Page 79 of A Fierce Archer

“Finished with what?”

“Acting like a fool. Pretending at marriage. Mistreating yer wife.”

Fury boiled and he held an arm pointing in the direction of the garden. “I did not attack her tonight. What happened is a result of before...”

“I am not speaking just of tonight,” Ruari snapped. “But of how ye have acted toward her. How in the bloody hell is she supposed to feel comfortable with ye? Do ye really think yer current actions are not what brought this to happen?”

When his stomach protested to his standing upright, Ewan threw up again. It was not the whisky nor the food that had him feeling sick. But seeing Catriona in such as state. Dirty and bloody, hair plastered to her face with the wetness of her tears. Surely, it had to be what she’d looked like when she was held prisoner.

Tears welled and he gulped back a sob. “What have I done?” He stumbled away from the house without a sure direction. “My God.”

He bent over, attempting to settle his stomach with long breaths.

Ruari’s feet appeared below and he realized that both of them were in bare feet and half-dressed.

“Ye are going to either vow to repair this, or she comes to live with us.” Loathing dripped from each word uttered.

Ruari walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A trickle of sunlight did little to brighten the room, but it was just right in Catriona’s estimation. For a few precious months, she’d been back to herself. And now the thought of stepping past the doorway terrified her.

In the three days since the garden, she’d only seen Esme and Maisie. A messenger had been dispatched to McLeod Keep postponing Paige’s visit, citing illness. It bought Catriona a couple weeks to regain control. Hopefully, it was long enough.

“That will not do at all,” Esme said, plopping down on a chair next to her. “The color is horrible.”

Catriona had been attempting to sketch but, in truth, her heart and mind were elsewhere.

“I think it matches the view perfectly.” She was drawing the window, dark curtains pulled aside, fabric pooling onto the floor.

Esme sniffed. “I suppose the view is dreary.”

Despite the sadness that pooled inside, Catriona managed a smile. “Ye do not like my taste in décor then?”

“I do,” Esme began. “But not in this room.”

They were in a small guest room, which is where Esme had directed she be brought from the episode in the garden. A small space would not be as jarring for her when in a fragile state. And although Catriona agreed, now she wondered if it would have been better to return to her own chambers.

“I am going to move to another bedchamber tonight, a larger one. I wish to speak to Ewan.”

For the last few days, he’d asked to speak to her, and she’d not been willing, considering her husband did not love her and had no interest in her other than her duties as wife. Some of her duties anyway. Those that did not include intimacy.

Esme gave her a concerned look. “There is something I must tell ye.”

There was no reaction in her mind or body. Catriona had stopped caring again. “What is it?”

“Ruari told Ewan that ye are coming to live with us,” Esme said, holding her chin up a notch. “I agree with him. It would help in yer recuperation.”

“I do not agree.”

“Ye must,” Esme replied. “It may be for the best.”

Considering all the plans she’d had for her new home, Catriona wondered what would happen if she left. “This is my home, Esme. I may be in a loveless marriage, but I took vows, and it is my duty as Lady Ross to complete my tasks. Many couples live separate lives in the same home. I will survive well enough. This episode...well, it was bound to happen.”

Moments later, after a rap on the door, Ewan entered.

She’d not seen him looking so poorly since he’d been injured and she’d nursed him to health. His jaw was bearded, there were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was uncombed. She paused for a moment, taking in his rumpled clothing.