Before she could decide either way, Archer spoke once more. “Spend the night with me again.”
River blinked in surprise. “Tonight? Are ye certain?”
A faint smile touched his mouth, softening his expression even more, and he nodded. “If ye’ll have me.”
The answer came easier than she expected.
“Happily.”
16
River could not settle that night. She tried reading. She tried brushing out her hair longer than necessary while Layla rambled about some argument she had overheard between two servants downstairs. She even tried convincing herself that the restless feeling under her skin was simple exhaustion, though it was far from it.
“What is it, me lady?” Layla asked as she prepared her bed. River hadn’t dared share with her that Archer was to come to her chambers that night. Though she had begun to tell her pretty much everything about her life, and she had mentioned Archer coming to her chambers before, this time, it felt different.
She remembered the last night they had spent together in her sitting room. She remembered the way he had kissed her, the way he had held her, the way he had touched her where no one had touched her before. He had been patient with her. He had been, God help her, romantic, and that was one word she would have never used to describe him before this sudden change in him.
Laird O’Douglas, a romantic...who would have ver thought? Certainly nae me.
The mere thought almost made her burst into giggles, momentarily forgetting her fright at the thought that Archer would come soon.
“Naethin’,” she told Layla with a soft shake of her head. “I’m fine.”
With a sigh, Layla came to sit next to her, perching on the edge of her vanity as River sat in front of it. “It’s the attack, is it nae?” she asked, and though she wasn’t entirely right, she wasn’t entirely wrong either. River was not only stressed about the visit that was to come, but also about the fact that this seemed to be the second attack now, and it could only mean someone was after Archer and wanted to take his life.
“Aye,” said River through a dry throat. “I just...I cannae imagine how it could have possibly happened twice in such a short time.”
“Well, everyone thought the first time was an accident,” Layla pointed out. “It is only natural that they werenae as careful.”
“Well, they should have been more careful,” said River through gritted teeth, and the frowned to herself. Even she was surprised by the fervour with which she spoke those words.
Archer had become too important to her, too fast. This was only their fourth night together, and yet River had already become attached to a man who didn’t even really exist a week prior.
Was it a mistake? There was a voice deep in her head that told her it was. There was a voice she couldn’t ignore that told her she should have been more careful, that she should have kept her distance, that she should have refused any advance Archer had made from the start.
But it had been so difficult to stay away from him. River had been so lonely in this castle, spending her best years without a real husband. When it finally seemed like she had a chance to connect with him, she grasped it before she could even think of it twice.
“I’m sure the Laird will recover, me lady,” said Layla kindly. “He’s a very strong man. Always has been.”
River smiled a little, despite herself. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“It’s good to see ye happy,” said Layla as she jumped off the vanity and finished making the bed for her. “I used to see ye when ye first came here...ye were never this happy and I always wondered why.”
River didn’t really know what to say to this. Layla had a way of disarming her, as well as everyone else around her, by saying precisely what was going through her mind with seemingly no filters at all. On the one hand, River found it as endearing as she found it refreshing. Not that many people in the castle saidthe truth like she did. On the other hand, it often brought her to moments like this, when she had no idea what to respond to her.
For a while, Layla worked in silence, and then she told River goodnight. The moment she finally left for the night, silence flooded the room, and River was left to wait idly for Archer.
This was the fourth night. It was strange how quickly it had become something she anticipated, though she didn’t yet know if it was something she looked forward too. There was too much apprehension in her excitement. There was too much fear that she was doing something wrong, that she would soon regret all this.
A soft knock sounded at her chamber door and her pulse betrayed her instantly. Of course a part of her was looking forward to this, especially after the last night they had spent together.
“Come in,” she called, trying—and failing—to sound unaffected.
Archer entered a moment later. He had changed from his earlier clothes into a simple blue tunic, the collar slightly open at his throat. The white bandage around his head stood out sharply against his dark hair, though he moved with enough ease that most people would assume he had fully recovered already.
But River knew better. The moment the door shut behind him, her gaze flicked immediately to the healing wound, and Archer noticed, of course.
His mouth curved faintly into a semblance of a smile. “Ye’re starin’.”
