Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(86)

“Let me dress and collect my bow and arrows, and we’ll find a place to practice,” Genevieve said.

Rorie clapped her hands in delight. “We’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs. Don’t be long, Genevieve! We have much to do this day.”

Genevieve smiled. “I’ll need only a few minutes to ready myself.”

“What in God’s name are they doing?” Graeme demanded.

Bowen and Graeme had gone in search of Genevieve, Rorie, and Eveline when no one could report where the lasses were and they had been conspicuously absent the entire afternoon.

When he and Graeme climbed the hill overlooking the river, there in the distance were the three of them, shooting arrows at a flimsily constructed target.

“Do we want to know?” Bowen asked dryly. “I think Rorie is quite infatuated with Genevieve. She was most impressed by the fact that Genevieve felled four warriors during battle. She’s recounted the tale to anyone who will listen.”

“The very last thing Eveline needs to learn is how to shoot a bow,” Graeme said. “Think you I want her filling my hide with arrows when I anger her? I’m blaming you for this, Bowen. ’Tis your lass who is corrupting my wife. There’s no hope for Rorie, so ’tis pointless to complain about her wayward habits.”

Bowen sobered. “She isn’t my lass. Not for long.”

Graeme went silent, his expression full of regret. “Forgive me. I did not mean to bring up a painful topic. I know you dread the day when the McInnises arrive.”

“I’ll never love another woman as I do Genevieve,” Bowen said simply. “And because I love her, I must be willing to do what is best for her. She is not fully happy, though she is well content to be away from the McHughs. She misses her family, and she’ll never be complete unless she resolves things with her clan. She may well hate me for what I have done, but I know ’tis best. I can live with her hatred if I know she’ll find happiness.”

Graeme clasped Bowen’s shoulder. “Come, let’s see what the lasses are up to.”

The two men strode down the hill toward the women. Bowen rolled his eyes, because the first rule of battle was to be aware of your surroundings at all times. He and Graeme could have sneaked up and deprived them of their weapons, for all the attention they paid.

The lasses were so focused on their task that they never saw or heard him and Graeme approach. Eveline had good reason, of course, but Rorie and Genevieve should be more alert.

When they were but a few feet away, Graeme cleared his throat.

Genevieve and Rorie immediately spun around, while Eveline continued to fiercely concentrate on her target. She let her arrow fly, and it fell just short of the kill spot Genevieve had marked.

She turned, excitement blooming on her face, and she jumped up and down, the bow falling to the ground.

“I did it! I did it!”

Graeme smiled indulgently at Eveline’s joy, but then she took in the fact that Bowen and Graeme were present and clamped her lips shut, looking guiltily in Graeme’s direction.

Genevieve bent to retrieve the bow, dusting it off and smoothing any marks made by the fall.

“I see you’re quite busy this day,” Graeme drawled. “Pray tell, what enemy are you slaying?”

Eveline rushed to greet her husband, leaning up as far on tiptoe as she could to offer him a kiss, then she patted him on the cheek, leaving him befuddled and speechless.

Bowen smothered his laughter. Eveline knew well how to handle her husband. A kiss, a few touches, and he was completely in her thrall.

Genevieve’s eyes were full of worry as she glanced nervously at Bowen, as if she feared reprisal for instructing Eveline and Rorie on how to use a bow.

He held out his hand, not caring if the others saw. He had only a few days to be with her, and damn what anyone thought. He would take these days and savor them. Hold them close to his heart and remember them when he was old and gray.

He’d left her to rest the night before, knowing she was weary from her travels and from the anxiety of coming into a new clan where she was unsure of her welcome. But tonight she would spend in his chamber, in his arms, and every night until the McInnises arrived to bear her home.

He’d hold dear every single moment he had remaining with her, and those memories would sustain him his life through, because he knew he’d never love another as he loved Genevieve.

She shyly slid her hand into his, glancing nervously at the others for their reaction. He cared not. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his heart swelling with emotion. God, he did not want to let her go.

The selfish thing would be to keep her here with him. To never let her family know that she was alive. To keep her close and by his side and never share her with anyone.

He wanted so much. Love. Children. To wake every morn with her curled into his side. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, but, above all else, he wanted her to be happy. She’d been denied so much, and she’d endured so much pain and humiliation.

He had to let her go so she could soar and be the woman she was meant to be. Even if it killed him. And it may well do just that.

Genevieve blushed when he pulled away and glanced hesitantly at the others to gauge their reactions, but Rorie was grinning like a fool and Eveline wore a soft smile as she took in the tenderness between Bowen and Genevieve.

“Genevieve is teaching us her skill at shooting a bow!” Rorie said.