Page 18 of Never Marry a Highlander (Highland Rules #1)

18

T he Gibson sisters arrived at his castle with their mother and brother a day of the feast. Archer’s heart spiraled with tingles when Maeve ran out of the castle to greet her sisters.

She nearly tripped, and he caught her by the arm. “Careful,” he cautioned, his eyes raking over her face, so he could admire the color on her cheeks and the vibrant rosy shade of her lips.

When he sniffed in to fill his lungs with the scent of roses that clung to her, his guts twisted into a million flutters. Archer caught his aunt and Quinn smiling mischievously at him as he released Maeve, and she continued towards her mother.

“Mama,” she called and flung herself in her mother’s embrace.

Watching them reminded Archer of his own mother. He barely remembered her these days because he spent most of his time working to make sure the clan survived. The images of her lying in a pool of blood at his father’s feet still tormented him some nights.

Archer’s throat tightened as he watched Maeve hug her sisters then Laird O’Kane too.

He caught Maeve’s mother Blair glaring at him a second later, and he also did not miss the cold look in Maeve’s sisters’ eyes as they looked his way too.

Archer tucked away the unsettling knot in his stomach. He did not expect any of them to like him. He hadn’t even expected a Maeve to like him. But each passing day brought a wave of passion between them, and it was growing harder to stay away from her like he resigned himself to do.

“Laird O’Kane,” Archer greeted and shook Flynn’s hands. Laird O’Kane’s man at arms, Ashton, also shook hands with Jensen. “It is a pleasure to have ye here once again. Devlin shall be yer home for the next few days, and I only wish ye feel at peace here.”

“Isn’t this the mad clan?” one of Maeve’s sisters suddenly asked, and Archer looked to see the younger one jab her elbow into her side. “That hurt! I am right…They say yer clan started the mad war. Yer faither stared the mad war, did he nae? Ye are called the Devil Laird also.”

“Ayda,” Maeve cautioned next, her cheeks flaming as she turned to Archer. “I am so sorry. Ayda does not know what she speaks of.”

“I do,” Ayda said in a louder tone.

“Ayda,” Blair called this time then motioned for the girl to come to her side. “Apologies Laird Devlin. My daughters must have forgotten their manners.”

Archer sensed the tension in the air even as Maeve stepped forwards and tried defending him again. “The mad war happened a long time ago. Nae one here is mad, Ayda. It is rude to call anyone that!”

Ayda grumbled, and so did Maeve’s younger sister. Archer watched as Flynn pressed his lips together and said nothing to defend anyone as the scene unfolded.

“Welcome to Devlin,” Lauren finally spoke and interrupted the cold seeping into the air. “I am told that Laird O’Kane loves hairst bree, and I have made sure the kitchen prepares the best of that for yer welcome. Please let us all head inside, and the servants will show ye to yer chambers. The other Highland clans shall arrive soon.”

Archer still stared in silence as Maeve moved to her mother’s side and smiled at her. “Let me show you to your chamber, mama. It is right next to mine. I want us to be close.”

“I want that too, my bairn.”

She led them inside, but her sister, Ayda, kept staring at him with wide, inquisitive eyes that made him frown.

“If ye are really the Mad Laird, then ye are skilled with a sword are ye nae?” Ayda asked as she suddenly paused in her strides. “Ye are, right?”

“Ayda!” Both Maeve and her mother called out.

Archer felt a smile sprout up on his lips as he watched the girl. She was fearless, and he liked that. “I am nae mad laird,” he answered her this time, “but the rumors call me that. I am Archer, Laird Devlin.”

He extended a hand to her, and she did not hesitate to shake it even though her mother jerked like she was about to step in between them.

“Ye must teach me. My brother willnae teach me since I returned. I am sick of playin’ the piano forte and crocheting. My fingers hurt because of all the embroider needles, too.”

Her whining made Archer laugh again, and he shook his head as Flynn interrupted his sister this time. “Head to yer chamber, Ayda, and quit the talks about swords. Laird Devlin and I must attend to business.”

Her lips formed a pout, and Maeve’s apologetic eyes landed on Archer’s before she finally led her sister away.

“She is a bold lass. Ye would do well to teach her to defend herself, Laird O’Kane.”

“She is too young,” Flynn answered dismissively. “And she has already been through enough torture. All I shall do is protect her.”

They marched towards Archer’s study, and once the door closed them in, Archer motioned to Jensen to bring them some brandy.

“Thank ye for acceptin’ me invitation, Laird O’Kane. It means a lot to me that ye attend this feast. I am hopin’ the other Highland clans will attend too because of yer influence. This might finally be the turnin’ point for my clan.”

Archer was hopeful, and as he sipped from his brandy, he noticed Flynn’s remorseful gaze. Archer lowered his quaich as it dawned on him that the Laird had news.

“What is it?”

“I am afraid the other Highland lairds willnae be attending’ yer feast, Laird Devlin,” Flynn announced.

It took a long moment for his words to settle in fully. “What do ye mean?” Archer asked even though he understood fully what the Laird was saying to him. “I sent out the invitations, and ye are here.”

“I wrote to them tellin’ them of me intention to visit and me sister’s marriage to ye. They shunned me, Laird Devlin. I have lost two allies who boldly stated that if I dinnae revoke my alliance to yer clan, then I have made an enemy of them forever. The Highland lairds are unforgivin’, and I am afraid it will take more than a well-planned feast to sway them to yer side.”

Archer squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment. He did not know how best to react to the news, so he stayed silent for a long time and nursed his disappointment.

“I am sorry,” Flynn continued. “I thought ye might take this news better hearin’ it from me. Ye should call off the feast, Laird Devlin. No one is comin’.”

Archer nodded slowly. He dragged in a deep breath to fill his heavy chest and rose to his feet. “Tell Lauren to cancel our plans,” he said to Jensen and turned towards his study door. “Thank ye for yer help, Laird O’Kane. Ye are free to leave if ye must.”

“Nae,” Flynn said. “I came here to see me sister not just to feast, Laird Devlin, and if it is all right with ye, then me family and I would like to stay regardless. We would like to stay for a few days.”

“Maeve missed ye all,” Archer answered. “So, aye, please stay…It will make her happy.”

He left the study after that, headed straight for the stables, and rode out on his best mare. Archer had no destination in mind, but he rode for a long time, ignoring the chill biting into his skin and the shivers wracking through him.

For Maeve’s sake, he had dared to dream that things would take a better turn for his clan’s fate. Archer wanted more than anything to provide for her and protect her.

Just like the rest of his clansmen, she was his family now, and he had failed all of them. As the heaviness in his heart grew, he started to think he was not good enough to lead his people.

Like his father he excelled at war and nothing else. The biting fear that had ruled Archer since the day he killed his father rushed to the front lines of his thoughts, now.

What if he was no better than his late father? What if he truly was nothing more than the Mad Laird?