Chapter 26

26

A rcher greeted Laird MacGuire with a slight bow of his head, then shook his hand. "It is a pleasure to visit yer clan, Laird MacGuire," he greeted. "I am grateful for this chance."

The older laird, Collin, nodded and offered Archer a smile. Archer hadn't expected an entirely warm welcome from the Laird's clansmen. MacGuire had suffered greatly at his father's hands during the mad war. There was never a possibility that Laird MacGuire would ever forgive that.

"Ye are welcome to me castle," Collin said to Archer and led him past the walls of his drawbridge into bis main keep. "We shall feast and celebrate," he continued with a smile. "We look forward to our future as allies too. I hope this is what ye want."

Archer spared Maeve a glance at his side, and her expectant smile lifted his spirits.

"Indeed, Laird MacGuire," he answered. "Our clans shall be such great allies." Archer believed that.

The feast began later that day. Archer spent his time staring at his beautiful wife, and every time she met his eyes, his heart fluttered in ways it never had before.

They shared a dance while Jensen nursed his wine and enjoyed the musicians' performance. Laird MacGuire's daughter and her new husband also joined on the dance floor to make the moment enjoyable.

"I have never been to a feast like this," Maeve whispered to him when they took a moment from their dancing to sit down again, and he fed her some of the berries served on their table.

"We shall attend more of these in the comin' days," he told her with a smile then let his eyes sweep over her face for a bit. Maeve wore her hair with a thousand pins holding her strands in place, and the rosy shade on her cheeks matched the color of her lips.

Archer found that he could not get enough of her. During their long day journey to MacGuire, he had craved her every single moment. Even now, he thought of the things he could make her feel.

Her moans and the sweetness of her hot breath as she cries out from pleasure.

"What did ye do most of yer time in England? Did ye nae attend balls and promenade for suitors like the English ladies are made to do?"

Maeve's full lashes fluttered to hide her eyes from his, and he sensed she did not feel comfortable telling him from the pale look that appeared on her face.

Archer covered her hand with his immediately. "Ye dinnae have to tell me if ye dinnae want to," he whispered. "It is all right."

"I want to," she answered in a rush and shook her head. "But not here. I want to tell you everything."

Her solemn voice made his heart melt. Archer suddenly was not so interested in the feast anymore. Laird MacGuire enjoyed his time with his men, and Archer spotted Jensen and some of the MacGuire men enjoying their ale together to.

"Take a walk with me," he said to Maeve, extending a hand to her, so they could leave the grand hall together. They started a walk around the MacGuire castle and found the exit door leading to the garden after a while.

Archer took off his wool coat and placed it around Maeve's shoulders to keep her warm then he smiled at her again when she whispered thank you. They walked in silence for some time before she finally glanced towards him. "When Lord Hampton first took us, he made us believe he would care for us. Then he slowly began to poison our minds towards our family and home."

Archer did not fully understand her at first. "Poison yer minds?"

She licked her lips nervously. "He told us that the Highlanders were brutes…Never speak to a Highlander; never wed a Highlander… A proper lady never disobeys rules either. We learned to speak like the English; he taught us to read their books and receives guests in his drawing room…

"He displayed us to his guests like ornaments acquired during one's travels, and we were meant to like it." She slowed her pace and drew in a shuddering breath. "The Earl did all this but he never hurt me. At least not at first."

Archer did not know what to say to her, so he held his breath and waited till she found the courage to continue. "After the first year, Flynn fought to free us, but Lord Hampton's men outnumbered his, and he retreated wounded. That first attack left Lord Hampton furious…It was the first time he…" she hiccupped, her eyes rounded with the tendrils of fear, and Archer knew what she was going to say.

"It was the first time he hurt ye," he muttered, facing her now so he could draw her close. Once in his arms, he hugged her tightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Every other time after that, I had to protect Ayda and Erin. His son, Gilbert, enjoyed kicking me because I insisted on protecting them. He would whip me, make me kneel for hours, and vow to hurt them if I said a word to his father or asked for the physician's help."

The tears in her eyes made Archer's resolve to end Lord Hampton stronger. Once his clan had all the backing they needed, he would make sure to end the man's tyranny.

"Nae one will ever hurt ye again," he pledged against her neck then he kissed her there too. They stayed in that warm embrace for a long time and only parted when they heard the steady beats of someone approaching.

Archer held Maeve's hand in his as Laird MacGuire came into view. "Laird Devlin," he began, his words slurring a little to show he had drunk too much wine. "Do ye nae enjoy my feast? Why have ye come out here with yer wife instead?"

"We shall return to the feast now," Archer said, and smiled at the Laird. "We only needed a moment to—" Archer's words were cut short by the thwack of an arrow fired that sped towards the Laird and landed right in his heart.

Maeve screamed in the same moment, and Archer sprang into action immediately. Laird MacGuire dropped to the ground before Archer could catch him. He knelt beside the Laird and tried to take out the arrow lodged in his heart.

Laird MacGuire coughed. "Dinnae…" he stuttered as blood spluttered from his lips. "Get away from here, Laird Devlin," he managed as he released a wheezing breath and clutched Archer's hand tight. "They will blame ye…Me men will blame ye for this. Ye must take yer wife and run, now!"

"I willnae let ye die," Archer refused and pressed down on the wound on the man's chest. His throat tightened as pain tunneled through him.

Maeve knelt by Archer's side, and tears rushed down her cheeks too. "What do we do?" she asked as he pulled the arrow out and placed his hands on the Laird's bleeding chest.

Laird MacGuire's wide eyes held the fear Archer did not allow himself to feel. "Laird Devlin…hurry and…" Laird MacGuire's jaw went slack before he could finish his sentence, and he coughed one last time before his eyes went round.

Archer felt the last beat of Laird MacGuire's heart as he knelt in the pool of his blood soaking into the grass.

"He's dead," Maeve cried out and fixed her panicky eyes on Archer's. Archer's vision blurred as the first bouts of anger rushed through his temples and made them pound hard.

He rose to his feet right then, drew his sword, and looked around the garden to find their attacker. Whoever killed Laird MacGuire did it to frame him and ruin his clan's reputation. Archer could not have that!

"Stay here; I shall find whoever did this," he ordered Maeve when he heard rustling in the leaves around them.

"We do not have time, Archer…We must get out of here," Maeve called out in a pleading voice as he headed farther into the gardens. He picked up his pace, determined to find who lurked in the shadows.

There was no one in sight, and when he heard the thuds of soldiers approaching the garden, he hurried back to Maeve, pulled her to her feet, and shielded her with his body from Laird MacGuire's men.

Their leader's jaws snapped hard once he saw his laird on the ground. "What have ye done?" the man growled, the strength of his voice crackling with tension in the night's air. "Ye are nae better than yer faither, are ye? Ye turn yer back and stab a man who opened his castle to ye when nae other highland clan would? Ye traitor!"

"I dinnae kill him." Archer defended himself. His eyes dropped to the blood on his hands, and he looked back at the soldiers again. "Believe me…I dinnae betray yer laird."

They had no reason to believe a word he said, and he knew what would come next as a weighted knot sank deep into his guts.

"Hide," he ordered to Mavee, shoving her away from him before Laird MacGuire's men drew their swords and lurched towards him.

Everything else blurred as they began a dance of steel and a battle for survival. Jensen and the rest of Archer's men arrived at the garden and joined in the fight. Men surged forward with determination in their eyes as they swords glistened in the bright moonlight's glow.

Archer took down his attackers with primal fervor, but he was careful to make sure Maeve stayed safe where she hid in a corner of the garden. Pain slicked through him when a soldier's blade cut through his arm. Jensen stepped in and took the man down, nodded once, then he swung his sword over his head to continue the fight again.

The MacGuire feast became a horrific haunting melody of shouting commands and pained cries of warriors. Archer managed to get Maeve out of the garden alongside Jensen and a few of his men that weren't killed in the battle.

They headed out, knowing he had to make it back to Devlin and prepare for the coming war. MacGuire men would not rest until they avenged their laird's death, and he would not rest until he found out who sabotaged his clan's bettering reputation.

Archer's bleeding arm did not hurt compared to the throbbing anguish resonating through him. How can we recover from this?

The Highland clans already hated him, and no one would believe his innocence once word of what transpired in MacGuire tonight spread to the other Highland clans.