Page 10 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
“Well...that’s certainly overdue.”
“Ye daenae wish for bairns,” River said, her tone gentle as she reminded him of the fact. “We agreed we wouldnae have bairns.”
She fought through the knot in her throat as she spoke those words. Once, she had craved to have a family of her own, but at least Arya and Colby had lessened the hurt of being childless. She had surrendered to her fate a long time ago—she would never have children of her own, but she would raise the two of them as if she had birthed them.
“That’s ridiculous,” said Archer with a disbelieving scoff. “Why would we agree to nae have bairns?”
River stared at him as though he was a fool and repeated, “Because ye daenae wish for bairns.”
“That’s unacceptable,” said Archer. “I am already in a vulnerable position, which puts the clan in a vulnerable position. Without an heir, if somethin’ happens to me...”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to. There was only one thing that mattered to this man: strategy. Even a child would be a pawn in his schemes.
“Ye better accept it,” River said, her lips pursing into a thin, disapproving line. “As I willnae be sharin’ yer bed.”
“Excuse me?”
Archer sounded as if he couldn’t even fathom that as a possibility. River, though, would have none of it. She wouldn’t let him use her for an heir. She wouldn’t let him use their child. Besides, who could say whether or not he would remember? If he recalled the past, then he would surely be cross with her for even attempting to fall pregnant.
“I said I willnae be sharin’ yer bed,” said River, even more firmly this time.
Archer’s eyes narrowed as he regarded her. Silently, he leaned even closer, until their lips were almost touching—until River could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheeks, until her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest.
“I bet I can change yer mind,” he said, his voice low and honeyed.
River drew in a steadying breath. “I highly doubt that.”
“Give me seven nights.”
“Ye have lost yer mind.”
Archer didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned even closer to her and kissed her—a quick peck on the lips that seemed to make the whole world around River slow down to a halt.
By the time she came back to her senses, Archer was already at the door.
“I shall see ye tonight, me wife,” he said—a promise or a threat—and he was gone.
And River was left to contemplate what she should do now that Archer had, quite literally, lost his mind.
This is the first time he calls me his wife.
4
The letters before Archer’s eyes swam on the page. The light in his study was dim, nothing but a few candles and the crackling fire to illuminate the room, along with the silver cast of the moon through the window. It was a balmy evening. The tapestries fluttered on the walls with the gentle breeze, and he wished he could be outside, on the terrace or the courtyard to enjoy the good weather.
But he had too much to do. The loss of his memory had burdened him with more work than he could ever imagine. He had to learn everything from the start—everything about his clan and his people, his alliances, his former strategies. No one could be allowed to think of him as incompetent and no one could be allowed to find out he had lost so much of his past.
With a sigh, he leaned back on his chair—a large, wooden armchair with intricate patterns carved on the surface, its seat and back covered in plush leather. Jenson’s concoction of peppermint and butterbur still filled the room with its fragrance from the small bottle that now stood empty at the very edge ofArcher’s desk. The potent liquid had done little to help with his growing headache, and now Archer regretted ever insisting that he was well enough to work.
A knock on the door forced him to quickly sit straight and chase the pained expression away.
“Come in.”
Keir opened the door, then looked over his shoulder before closing it, as if he feared there would be someone lurking behind it. He had picked up the habit in the past few days—or perhaps he had always had this habit, Archer thought. Either way, he wouldn’t know.
“Och, it’s ye,” Archer said and immediately relaxed on the chair. Keir was one of the people he remembered, along with Jenson and some of the servants in the castle, though he remembered them all much younger than they were now.
And he could trust Keir with his secrets as much as with his life.
