Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Icannae read another letter from this woman.
Archer groaned, setting the parchment down on the table in front of him. He placed his head in his hands, closing them against the flickering light of the candle that was working to fight off the shadows of dusk.
“Did we catch ye at a bad time?”
Immediately, Archer’s head darted up, glancing at the doorway of his study. Marcus and his very pregnant wife, Paisly, were standing in the doorway, both of them staring at him with obvious amusement.
“Ye always catch me at a bad time,” Archer grunted, but he waved them into his study anyway.
The pair shuffled in, Paisly’s waddle making her look a bit like a duck as she moved to accommodate her ever-growing stomach. He smiled as he watched her, and despite everything, Archer found himself happy for the love his best friend had found.
“So,” Paisly asked, plopping herself down into one of the high-backed chairs on the other side of Marcus’ desk. “What were ye groanin’ and moanin’ about when we came in?”
Marcus hovered over his wife, lingering with his arms at the ready until she was settled safely in her chair. Paisly tried to wave him off, but Marcus would not move.
It had been like that since the day that Marcus had met the woman. Archer had seen the change that had happened in the man he’d known his entire life. It had been instantaneous.
He had been able to see it in Marcus’ eyes the moment they first landed on Paisly.
For a long time, Archer had doubted that this type of love was truly real. Especially when he’d seen the way his parents had always interacted with one another.
But with Marcus and Paisly in front of him, it had been nearly impossible to keep the disdain.
“Me head hurts, is all,” Archer murmured, shaking his head at the pair of them as Marcus took his seat as well.
“And yer head hurtin’,” Marcus chimed, scooting the chair closer to Archer’s desk. “Would that have anythin’ to do with the pretty new wife that’s been annoyin’ the shite out of ye since ye exchanged yer vows?”
Archer’s mouth popped open in surprise. Marcus had barely been around since the wedding, and Archer had deliberately been keeping him busy.
“How do ye ken about how things are goin’?” he huffed, unable to keep his curiosity under control.
Archer had leveled the question at Marcus, but it was Paisly who answered.
“The maids talk,” she explained. “The maids also ken how to move without bein’ seen. And they’ve seen everythin’.”
Paisly stressed the final word, and Archer felt his stomach plummet.
What did she mean by ‘everything’?
Ever since the afternoon before, when they’d shared the kiss at the cliff’s edge, Archer had been able to think of little else.
He hadn’t meant to kiss Emilie. But as the moment between them had unfolded, he had not been able to contain himself.
And, as much as Archer could not bring himself to regret the fact that his lips had tasted hers, he also knew that it was an act that couldn’t happen again.
As of yet, he had not found a way to bring it up to his wife, as he was certain that Emilie would demand an explanation. So, he had been trying to avoid her as much as possible ever since then and had been holed up in his study.
“What did they go blatherin’ about to ye?” Archer pressed, narrowing his eyes at Paisly.
She rubbed her stomach absentmindedly, giving him a wide smile.
“Everythin’,” she said coyly, prompting her husband to laugh and shake his head at her.
“We ken about the kiss,” Marcus said quickly, amusement evident in his tone. “One of the maids saw ye from the window and told Paisly all about it.”
Archer cursed out loud, shaking his head in exasperation. He knew better than to ask Paisly which maid it was that had reported this gossip directly to her. The woman was a vault when it came to protecting her friends.
And, somehow, despite the difference in their stations, Paisly had found a way to befriend every single one of the women in Archer’s employ.
They adored her, fawning over the woman every time she set foot inside the castle. And Paisly soaked it all up.
She also reported every tidbit of information that she gleaned to her husband.
“Ye gossip more than any woman I ken,” Archer groaned, shaking his head at the two people sitting across from him.
Marcus just grinned at him. He didn’t try to argue against the accusation. He couldn’t. They all knew that it was true.
“So,” Paisly pressed after a few silent moments.
“What happened? Tell us all about it. Marcus said that yer new bride came and found ye in the whisky cellar, tittering about paintin’ the walls and that ye seemed annoyed.
And the next thing we ken, we’re hearin’ all about ye kissin’ her face off by the sea. ”
“I wasnae kissin’ her face off,” Archer argued.
His head throbbed, and he glanced down at his desk. He rubbed his temples.
His headache had been bad before Marcus and Paisly had shown up. But now? Now it was nearly unbearable.
Archer didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to rehash everything with two of the people he loved the most. He didn’t need to. Archer was already well aware of what they were going to say.
“It was a weak moment,” he grunted, his attention still focused on the grain of the wood in front of him. “I wanted to kiss her, so I did. Can a man nae kiss his own wife in the comfort of his own home without gettin’ flack for it?”
“Nae when the man swore up and down he was only marryin’ her so she could be a maither to his bairns,” Marcus chided.
Archer raised his head, glaring at his man-at-arms.
“I should banish ye to scrubbin’ the piss pots,” Archer grumbled.
Marcus threw his head back and laughed.
“Ye wouldnae do that, and we both ken that well enough,” Marcus chided.
“Tell us, Arch,” Paisly said, her voice taking on a placating tone.
Archer’s eyes flicked to her, and what he found there shocked him. There was still humor dancing on her face, but there was concern there as well.
He sighed, knowing that even though he didn’t want to talk about it, Marcus and Paisly wouldn’t leave until he did.
“She did come see me in the cellar,” he admitted. “And she was actin’ like a blitherin’ idiot. But the thing is, I ken that she’s nae. We’ve had conversations, even right after the weddin’ when we were ridin’ back in the carriage. I ken she’s intelligent.”
“She grew up in a nunnery, right?” Paisly supplied.
Archer nodded, and the woman’s eyes glazed over while she thought. She made a few humming sounds, neither of the men interrupting her while she tried to figure out Emilie’s motives.
Finally, she leveled her gaze back at Archer.
“There arenae many men at a nunnery,” Paisly considered. “Mayhaps she simply doesnae ken how to act around them. Mayhaps that’s how she thinks she should be.”
It was something that Archer hadn’t yet considered.
“Mayhaps,” he admitted finally. “But yesterday, she took the bairns out for a walk when I told her they had their studies. And we had an argument about it.”
Marcus arched an eyebrow at him. “An argument that led ye to kissin’ her?”
“I’m gettin’ to that,” Archer grumbled. “Anyway, we were arguin’ about the bairns. And she asked what I would do if she dinnae obey me orders.”
“And that’s what made ye kiss her?” Paisly prompted, her expression mimicking her husband’s.
Archer didn’t know what else to say to that, so he opted to nod instead. He wanted to groan.
The problem with everything that happened went so much deeper than what he was explaining. He knew that it did. And he also was aware that they knew that it did.
But as they always did, Marcus and Paisly were going to force Archer to actually say it all out loud. There were two people who had always been of the mind that talking about things was the best way to get them out of the mind.
It was a sentiment that Archer vehemently disagreed with. But if he refused to talk now, they would just pester him about it later.
If he ordered them to leave, they would go. But then the next time he saw Marcus, the man would make snide comments and pointed jabs until Archer was forced to talk about it.
No, evading the conversation with the two of them never worked. Not when it was something that seemed to interest them as much as this had.
If Archer didn’t talk about it now, he would never hear the end of it.
“There has been tension between us since we got married,” Archer explained hesitantly. “Or, at least I’ve been experiencin’ tension since we got married.”
Paisly nodded. “She is a lovely lass. I can imagine that makes things difficult.”
“Ye daenae even ken her,” Archer huffed, but Paisly just chuckled.
“I mean her looks,” she corrected. “She’s rather bonnie. But daenae worry, I’ll be gettin’ to ken her soon.”
Archer didn’t want to begin to guess at what the woman meant by that. If Paisly and Emilie paired up, he was certain that he and Marcus would end up wanting to jump off the nearest cliff.
Actually, Marcus would probably love it. But Archer?
Archer would want to dive headfirst into the nearest, most tumultuous sea that he could find and allow it to sweep him away.
“She’s bonnie, aye,” he admitted, nodding a bit as he considered what to say next. “But it feels like more than that. I’m intrigued by her. She’s like a puzzle that I cannae seem to figure out how it all fits together.”
Marcus shifted in his seat, the wood groaning beneath his large frame.
“Ye’ve only known the lass for a few days,” Marcus mused. “Of course, ye daenae ken her well yet. That kind of stuff comes with time.”
Archer shook his head. “Ye’re misunderstandin’ me.
I hate that I’m interested in wantin’ to figure her out.
I want her to be dull. I want her to be dumb.
I want her to be nothin’ more than the woman I sleep next to at night and the woman that helps raise me bairns.
I daenae want, I cannae give, anythin’ more than that. ”
Marcus and Paisly shared a pointed look, a silent conversation transpiring between the two of them.
“Arch,” Marcus began, leaning forward to place his elbows on the desk. “Do ye think it’s time for ye to finally move past all of this? I have known ye for me entire life. And I ken what ye witnessed when ye were younger. I ken what yer faither did to ye, and I ken ye daenae—”
Archer held up a hand, a growl of protest rising in his throat that sent Marcus biting off his words. A worried glance flickered across Paisly’s face, and her eyes darted from one man to the other as Archer seethed at his best friend.
They didn’t talk about this. Never. Not once.
Not when Marcus saw Archer constantly push Martha away, keeping the woman at arm’s distance. Not when Archer knew that the couple had noticed the way he kept a distance from his own children.
And definitely not now, when a woman had come into his life and, for the first time, had started to make him wonder if perhaps he wanted things to be different.
They couldn’t be different. Archer himself couldn’t be different.
And if he allowed his wife and his children to get close to him, he ran the risk of turning into his father. That would do more damage to all of them than his keeping them all at arm’s length ever would.
So, he would not be having this conversation with Marcus. Not now. Not ever.
“Nay,” Archer growled, an order lacing his tone. “We willnae be bringin’ up me faither. It has nothin’ to do with what I’m goin’ through right now.”
The lie fell from his lips with conviction, but despite that, they all saw it for what it was.
His friends knew about Archer’s past. So they knew the lie the moment it was spoken. But something in either his tone or his demeanor had Marcus relaxing back into his seat, clearly accepting defeat and allowing the subject to drop.
“Well,” Paisly said, patting her swollen belly again and plastering a weary smile on her face. “We just wanted to stop in and see ye for a bit. But I can see that ye want to get back to work.”
She was extending him an olive branch, one that Archer gladly latched onto. He nodded at her, waiting while the married couple stood and slowly made their way back toward the door.
“I cannae wait to meet yer wife,” Paisly said, turning to give Archer an encouraging smile over her shoulder. “I’m positive that we’ll be great friends. And then, I can try to keep her out of yer hair.”
Archer just nodded, telling them to have a good evening as Marcus and Paisly disappeared from his view.
He was still for a few moments, the sound of their footsteps fading with each passing second as they made their way away from his study.
Soon, all was silent once more. Leaving Archer with nothing more than a pounding headache and thoughts that refused to focus anywhere but on his wife, and all the ways in which he could not have her.