As the summer months were ticking on, the heat crept up higher and higher, and the men were dying to drown themselves in drink. Especially at the end of a long day of fishing and providing for their families.
It was something that Archer was more than happy to oblige.
“We’ll need to make certain to get to the distillery in Thrums, though,” he said, making another note. “We’ll need to inspect the new reserves.”
Marcus nodded, turning to say something to him, but something in the corner of the room grabbed his attention. Marcus glanced to his left, a look of amusement flickering across his face.
Just as Archer began to follow Marcus’s line of sight, small, slim arms wrapped around his middle.
“There ye are,” a high, female voice purred, giving him a quick squeeze. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for ye.”
Archer jumped back, his mind immediately scrambling as he tried to figure out who on earth was touching him.
“What are ye—” but his voice died out as his eyes landed on who it was that had snuck up behind him.
Emilie was standing before him in a dress that was almost the exact color of her eyes. He recognized it immediately as one of the ones he’d just had made for her.
Archer had ordered them before he’d ever even seen her, as her parents had been the ones to send him her measurements. And, never in his wildest imagination could he have imagined how stunning she would have looked in it.
“What are ye doin’ down here?” he asked gruffly, trying to stamp down on his admiration of her.
Stepping away, Archer gave her a stern look. It did not matter how beautiful she looked; he did not want her touching him. Not like that.
“I came lookin’ for ye, ye silly duck,” Emilie said, cocking her head to the side.
Archer stared at her for a moment. Was there something different about the way she was speaking?
He searched his memory. He could have sworn that, the day before, when she’d been talking to him in the carriage, and even once they had arrived at the castle, her voice had been deeper.
It had been raspy and lovely.
Not like the high-pitched, giggly voice of the woman standing before him now.
Why would she be doin’ that on purpose though? Mayhaps she was just nervous yesterday, and that caused her to talk more softly?
Archer did not think that was the case. But he couldn’t figure out any other reason why she would be changing the sound of her voice now.
“What do ye need?” he grumbled, eager to get back to his work.
She cocked her head to the side, blinking her cornflower eyes at him.
“I just wanted to see how ye were doin’?” she chirped. “See how yer night was, especially since I dinnae see ye this mornin’.”
She beamed at him, but there was tension in her eyes. It all came together to muddle Archer’s mind.
What on earth was she doing? Just the day before, all the way up until right before they’d fallen asleep, Emilie had seemed like she’d wanted nothing to do with him.
She’d seemed too afraid of him, too worried about other things to pay him any attention whatsoever. But now? Now something had changed.
And that something had Archer on edge.
“What do ye mean ye wanted to ask how me mornin’s been?” Archer grumbled, gritting his teeth as a wave of irritation started to wash over him.
“I think what Arch is tryin’ to say,” Marcus said, stepping forward so that he was standing between the new man and wife. “Is that we are currently workin’ on somethin’. So, is what ye’re needin’ an emergency?”
His tone was light and cordial, and Emilie gave him a winning smile as she turned her attention to the man-at-arms.
“I recognize ye,” she beamed. “Ye were at our weddin’. And sittin’ next to us at the head table.”