Page 6 of A Fierce Archer

“Ye almost died,” Catriona said as if sensing his gaze. “Perhaps this time, ye will remain abed until the healer gives instructions otherwise.”

As much as he wanted to argue the point, Ewan decided it wasn’t the time. “What day is it?”

“It has been five days since the day ye were found, and two days since ye acted so foolishly and left yer bed.”

Two days. Ewan blinked, noticing that his eyesight was normal. One good thing had come from being asleep for two days. Hopefully, it also meant his memory would return.

He let out a breath, grateful that it brought only slight pain. Not only that, but that he could breathe easily.

“Why are ye caring for me? Ye should not fret, a servant can care for me.” Ewan hated to say the words. As much as he wished to spend time with her, he didn’t want to be responsible for doing or saying something that would bring her more distress.

“Tell me, why did ye kill Laird Mackenzie?”

Chapter Two

Catriona waited, knowing that Ewan was scrambling to come up with a reply. She had so many questions. Why had he killed the Mackenzie? Why did he remain there at Clan Fraser when he had no reason to? Also, his family was on the Isle of Uist and yet he lived either at the Ross’ to the north or at Fraser Keep.

As much as she detested to be near any male, there were a few, in actuality, who didn’t bring her distress. Laird Fraser, Keithen, Broden and the healer. All of these men she’d grown up knowing her entire life. It was different with Ewan. Although she wished to flee each time he was nearby, she fought against it. Something about him called to her on a very basic level. It was as if they had shared a common experience before. In actuality, she’d only just met him. Nothing about what she felt when she was near him made any sense.

It was doubtful someone like Ewan Ross could begin to understand what she’d been through. She doubted that even if a man witnessed it happening to someone they cared for, it would never possibly be the same as actually experiencing it.

And yet, there she stood in front of him, wanting to know answers to the questions that had been swimming around in her mind for weeks.

“Why do ye think I killed him?” Ewan’s deep voice cut through her thoughts. “I had no relationship or interaction with the man that would make me wish to kill him.”

Catriona pinned him with a direct look. Upon his hazel eyes meeting hers, the urge to flee became hard to resist. And yet she planted her feet firmly and looked away for a moment so that she could speak freely.

“It was clear at the archery competition. Several of the Frasers commented on the fact that the late laird had been pierced by three arrows that had hit him simultaneously.” Once again, her eyes met his gaze but she quickly looked away. “Ye can shoot three arrows at once with extraordinary precision.”

When she lifted her gaze back to him, his eyes were closed tightly, as if he was trying to avoid pain. “I cannot answer yer question. Why won’t ye and yer people just be glad it was done?”

“The motive. What reason would ye have to do it?” Catriona persisted. “Tell me.”

The man had been cruel. He had killed hundreds of innocents without cause. There were hundreds of reasons anyone would wish him dead.

“Whoever killed the laird did the world a favor. The man was cruel to hundreds and deserved death. Should there be a clearer reason than the devastation and overtaking of small clans by killing, pillaging and destruction?”

She would not be deterred by what he said. There was truth in the words. However, like him, Catriona understood that there were always consequences, no matter how good an action was.

“Ye, however, were not a victim of any of those things. Which brings me to consider that perhaps there is another, more personal reason.”

His sharp inhale told her that she’d hit a sensitive spot. Sensing he would either admit to doing it or stop talking, Catriona decided it was best to ask one more question.

“Admitting what ye did will stay between us. I cannot explain the need to know, other than I detested the man with all my being and although his death does not erase...things...it helps me feel vindicated.”

When his eyes lifted to hers, they’d darkened. “There isn’t a better answer to why than that. The vindication ye and the other victims need.”

“So, then ye consider yerself a champion of the downtrodden?”

“I like the sound of it,” he replied flippantly. “However, I have not admitted to being who killed the late laird.”

When he closed his eyes this time, she left the room. It was best to give him time. The conversation was not over. She needed to find out why Ewan Ross had killed the late laird. The reason was important. Not only because she wanted to be appreciative to him, if he was indeed who killed the man, but also because she hoped it would help her move forward.

Upon entering her bedchamber, Lady Fraser entered right behind. Since they’d both been taken by Clan Mackenzie and kept as captives, Catriona and the laird’s wife had become especially close. Catriona had grown up spending more time at the keep with the laird’s daughter, Esme, than with her own family. Often, her parents come for meals, just to see her as she often refused to return home, fearful of missing her friends.

During their capture, Lady Fraser had been treated well, unlike her, who’d been sent to the dungeon. The laird had instructed the guards to do what they pleased with her. Catriona shuddered, willing the memories away.

“Darling,” Lady Fraser said. “Do ye feel up to traveling to the village with me tomorrow? Flora is set to return, and I thought it would be a good outing. We can fetch her and perhaps pick up a few things at the village square.”