Chapter 17

17

T he next afternoon, Maeve and Lauren went over a long list of names Archer and Jensen had approved for the invitations.

"Ye think this enough? What about the Northern clans?" Lauren asked Archer as she served him some tea. Maeve sipped from her cup and shifted in her seat because she felt Archer constantly glance towards her.

His eyes lingered each time and left a trail of heat on her skin. She loved the smoldering effect they had on her, and ever since their kiss the previous day, it seemed as if he had softened towards her.

"The Northern clans dinnae feast," Jensen answered before Archer could. "But we should invite them anyway. We must give every clan a chance to attend the feast. This is important to our plan."

"I have written to my brither," Maeve said and cleared her throat when she realized she had pronounced a word just like the rest of them did.

Quinn smiled first. "Ye are startin' to sound more like a Highlander. It is only a matter of time now before ye recall what it is like to be one of us." Quinn's smile dazzled Maeve, and she knew she ought to feel warmth, but those words only reminded her of rules she would rather forget.

Highlanders are savages. You must never speak like them or act like them. You are a lady, and there are consequences for breaking these rules.

The memory of the harsh voice sliced through her thoughts and made her whimper.

"Are ye all right?" Archer suddenly asked, dragging Maeve from the path her took thoughts a moment later. She gasped back to reality, and her shaky gaze met his. "What did ye remember?"

His voice was insistent, and his brows drew together in a frown. Maeve reminded herself to breathe then she cast aside the thoughts that came to her mind.

"I am all right," she answered, surprised she sounded steady. "I just need…I need to take a walk and clear my head."

She was aware of the curious eyes that followed her as she walked out of the room. Maeve hugged herself tightly as she made it out of the keep and headed far into the garden.

Maeve only realized Archer followed closely behind her when she heard him call her name again. "I am all right," she lied as she spun around to face him.

The castle grounds were covered in snow, and her earasaid dragged in it as she continued walking in the garden.

"Ye look pale. Did Quinn upset ye? Is it somethin' she said? How are ye feelin'?"

Maeve was not used the questioning or the caring. She spent most of her time caring for her sisters, asking the questions, and making certain they were all right.

Ayda and Erin were all she cared about for a long time, but all of that had changed now. Here in Devlin, she cared for herself and had Quinn or Lauren asking about her opinions or making her give orders to the servants of the keep.

Archer touched her when she reached a shrub, and she spun around to face him. "You do not need to follow me and make sure I am all right. I wanted to take a walk. I will not break or run away."

"I dinnae think that ye will," he insisted. "I just want to be sure that ye dinnae need anythin'. Ye are my responsi—"

"I am your responsibility now, I know," she interrupted, finishing his sentence before he got the chance to. When Archer's lips formed a thin line, she sighed and shook her head. "I did not mean to cut you short, I just…" Maeve laughed. "We are planning a feast, and I have invited my brother and sisters to come celebrate with us. A few weeks ago, we did not think we would ever see our home again, but now, we are here in the Highlands, and I do not have to worry about them anymore.

"I spent all of my energy worrying about them, protecting them, and …" Tears burned the back of her eyes, and she brushed a hand over her face before she blew air out of her lips. "I was a captive, and now, I am lady of a keep. I did not think I would ever see my home again, and, now I am plannin' a feast."

"I am sorry," Archer apologized and gently touched her shoulder. "I did not mean to take ye away from yer family. It was selfish and …"

"What?" Maeve gasped, and a tear slid down her cheeks before she burst into full laughter. "No, no… I am not crying because I am sad. I am overwhelmed because I am happy, Archer. I am free because of you, Archer, and that is what makes me cry."

She laughed when the frown on his face deepened further. His eyes searched hers for a long time before his brows softened again.

Maeve reached for his hand as her laugh died down. "I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. I just…" she hiccupped and sniffed. "I just need to take a walk."

Archer regarded her closely as she held his hand, and Maeve could not tell if she had offended him right then until he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her body.

She sank into the warmth of his arms and closed her eyes because she enjoyed being next to him like this.

Never marry a Highlander. They are savages…They are monsters. Those words circled around in Maeve's mind, but they did not matter to her right then. The sensations tunneling through her were all she focused on.

He pulled back after some time, stroked her cheek, then pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping away.

"Thank ye," Archer said to her.

"Why? You do not need to thank me for anything, Archer. It is I who should be grateful to you."

"Thank ye," he repeated. "For choosin' to stay by my side even after all I told ye. For nae runnin' or fearin' that I would hurt ye. I would never…" He swallowed hard, and she saw the conflicting range of emotions that flitted across his face briefly.

Maeve did not know what to say to him then, but she held onto his gaze for as long as she could, loving the warmth that reached deep in her core.

That moment with Archer made her forget the past. Every ache she felt over the years, every tear she shed. Her life had taken a turn from the moment she met him, and Maeve realized she was being swept by the tides of her growing feelings for him.

"Perhaps tonight after supper we can take a walk?" she suggested without thinking. The way he was looking at her sent a rush of desire through her. Maeve wished the moment could edge on forever.

Can it be just him and me in this moment? "You can show me around the castle. Quinn mentioned the ground floors have tunnels beneath, and there is rich history to learn from exploring them. She says your clan has gold—the best in all of the Highlands."

Maeve's smile widened, but Archer kept staring at her as he paled. When he did not return her smile or say anything, her heart sank under the weight of her disappointment.

"Archer?"

"I must take my leave," he stated flatly. "Jensen…I … I must meet with my clansmen and prepare for the feast. It is Yuletide season, and if we use up our resources for this feast without any profitable outcome and alliances formed, then the villagers might have naethin' to survive on for the long winter."

Maeve nodded. "I understand completely. You must get to that. It is important."

He nodded then he backed away, spared her one last glance, and headed back into the keep. For a second, she struggled to understand what had just happened.

One second, he acted as if he enjoyed her presence, and in the next, it was as if she did not exist. Maeve was still lost in thoughts when Lauren and Quinn came to find her.

"Me Lady," they chorused as they headed towards her, "come, the clans seamstress is here. We must fit ye for yer clothes for the feast, Me Lady."

"We do not need to go to the modiste for that?" Maeve asked absent-mindedly as they led her out of the garden and into the keep.

"The modiste?" Quinn questioned with a frown, and Maeve was reminded again that they referred to the modiste as a Sgeirdear here. ‘

"I am sorry," she apologized with a laugh. "The modiste is the Sgeirdear," she explained. "I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment."

Both women laughed, and Lauren hooked a hand in Maeve's. "It is all right dear; we do not judge," she said like an Englishman, and laughed some more.

Maeve's mood lightened up, and she spent the next few hours going over fabric choices and colors with the ladies while enjoying the sweet taste of the Fraoch served. The Scottish tea Fraoch made from the heather plant was Maeve's favorite.

Her mother had taught her to make it when she was younger, and in England, she had searched for the plant for years, hoping she could enjoy that.

I hated English tea.

Later that night while she stood by her bedchamber window, a soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Maeve turned around to see Lauren at the doorway, and she smiled tenderly when the woman walked closer to the window and offered her a vial she held.

"Quinn asked me to give ye this. She mentioned ye still dinnae sleep with ease."

Maeve's smile shook as she took the vial. "I try my best," she answered. "It is not easy being away from my family…my sisters. I miss them a lot."

"I left me home when I was younger than ye are," Lauren explained as she came closer to Maeve and touched her hand. "Me brither married me off to an older laird at eight and ten summers. He was nae a vile man, but he was nae my choice of husband either. He died while I was still very young, and his clansmen conspired to take his lairdship, casting me aside like I was naethin'. I chose to return to Devlin after I heard of me brother's death. His son…Archer…I knew he needed someone. He was all alone."

Maeve sucked in a deep breath. "He acts as if he does not want me here, and then in the next moment, it is as if he would rather have me nowhere else than by his side."

"Ye dinnae understand him," Lauren stated like she understood him perfectly.

"I do not," Maeve admitted with another heavy sigh. "He told me about his father and the war."

Lauren's expression dwindled a little as Maeve said the words. The truth was, she did not care about what happened during the war. She cared about the man she knew now.

"He isnae a vile man, Maeve…Ye neednae fear him."

"I do not," she answered in a steady voice. "I trust him." The words were true. "And I want to help out the clan in any way I can. This is my home now, too."

Lauren hugged her tightly after that, and Maeve felt most of her worries fade a little. It felt comforting to have someone to talk to. The hardest part of living with Lord Hampton was the loneliness. There was no one to share my pain and worries with.

Maeve stared at the dirk her mother handed her before the wedding for a long time after Lauren left. I do not need it. Somehow, she felt like she had a family here too. They were not savages or monsters like Lord Hampton had made her believe.

The Highlanders were humans too. Heaving out a deep sigh, Maeve walked to the window with the dirk and tossed it out of the window, hoping it landed as far away as it could.

She did not need the weapon anymore. Archer would never hurt her. She was certain of that fact.

Come morning, a new fate awaited them. Maeve hoped it would only bring good fortune.