Sienna stretched her limbs and glanced sideways, the corners of her lips tilted upwards, and Violet felt even more indignant. “And what made ye think such?”
Ladies in McLeod tartan rushed and retrieved Keira’s gear and then Violet’s, leaving her shoulder feeling stiff.
“It was what was implied.”
When Sienna had put on her gear and come to stand by her side, Violet had been positively surprised. Up until that moment, they were by each other’s side, and Violet had told Sienna about her excitement over the archery match.
It was a mixed event where men and women competed with one another for the highest points. Because it required no strength or skill, albeit good aim—which Violet possessed—she had anticipated a favorable outcome. And she had shamelessly said that to Sienna, who had been a good sport allowing her to brag.
“Are ye implying ye would have been better prepared if you kent ye were going against me?” Sienna cocked an eyebrow. “Ye lost because ye underestimated me.”
No, Violet lost because Sienna was a better shot. She had scored sixty-four points—which was impressive, considering half were center shots—while Sienna had scored ninety-six points.
“She was bound to lose.” Then there was Keira with eighty-one points. “She couldnae even beat me.” She jerked forward just in time to dodge a whipping by Violet’s kerchief.
Later, Violet would have to give her a lesson on loyalty and humility.
“To think you two can become such proud peacocks,” Violet scoffed, feigning vexation.
“Humility is for losers…” Sienna started.
“… and we are winners,” Keira finished, then they clasped hands and—like them gently bred ladies—and ran away from her, their medals swinging.
Violet would have chased them if her feet didn’t feel glued to the ground. It seemed the winners had an extra burst of energy that she did not experience.
The games progressed around her, with the clans toasting their champions. Ruaridh had won multiple games already, but had refused to come back to them to celebrate. It was as if he was avoiding her, but that couldn’t be it.
She touched her lips, recalling their kiss a few hours ago. He surely wasnotavoiding her.
Callum had come up to them to congratulate Sienna on her win before Logan promptly appeared and pulled him into the McMahon tent. Still, there was no sight of Ruaridh.
It might be silly of her, but Violet missed him. She had been so engrossed the entire day that she had forgotten about him, then she remembered his intense gaze as he watched her, and she did not want to exist without being by his side.
How delusional, she had believed a kiss was enough to soothe the ache of his absence.
In her defence, she had expected him by her side as he had been during the hammer toss. Maybe she would have performed better if he had been present for every other thing she attempted. A dutiful instructor guiding her delicately and teaching her intimately.
She was tempted to turn around and find him wherever he was, but then decided against it. If he wanted to come to her, he would.
By the time she reached the McLeod tent and took her place beside Grannie Ava, they had filled her in on their conversation.
“If it makes ye feel any better, I was rooting for ye the entire time,” Grannie Ava tried to cheer her up, and the sincerity in her voice almost worked.
“You must have been sorely disappointed.”
“Of course nae, me great-granddaughter came third.” She cupped Keira’s cheeks, who was on her left, and squeezed them proudly. Keira did not fight the assault.
Violet felt even more indignant.
“Daenae be sour, ye beat me in the race,” Sienna reminded her.
Indeed, there was the race.
Keira hadn’t been allowed to participate as per Grannie Ava’s strict orders, which she did not complain about, but she had cheered for Violet’s competitors during the race.
Violet believed the little girl assumed that she was, by association, responsible for her banishment, which necessitated some sort of revenge. She had felt great when she had come first despite Keira’s lack of support, but she did not fully enjoy the win.
“That was all my horse.”
