The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1), Hildie McQueen [reading books for 5 year olds TXT] 📗

bothered him was that there was so much to do, so many problems to take care of. The last thing he needed was for his mother to be playing matchmaker at a time like this.

If he was to marry, the arrangement did not need to include him at any level. He would choose a woman, and as far as he was concerned, his mother and whoever else could take care of the rest. Silly that they thought he could take time at the moment to court.

“Laird, the council waits,” his valet stood by the door, the older man’s eyes scanning over him. “Do ye plan to dress today?”

Putting down his cup, Darach gave him his best glare. “No, Ramey, I plan to stroll about the keep naked.”

Ramey had worked for their family for decades. The older man had become Darach’s valet after a heated argument between the valet and his father. The only reason his father had not sent the man away, was because the man had been in the family’s service since a young lad.

“What do ye think about our recent visitors, Ramey?” Darach began as he allowed the man to help him dress. “Mother thinks I should marry the flowery creature that has been floating about the keep since yesterday.”

“Yer mother is correct in that it is past time for ye and yer brothers to marry. All of ye, except for Gideon, are over thirty years of age.”

“There is no time limit for marriage.”

“Most lasses prefer to marry someone that is attractive and has all their teeth,” Ramey replied with a stern expression.

Darach slid him a side glance. “What of the lass? I know ye have an opinion.”

“Is it not yer opinion that counts most?”

Sitting down to don his boots, Darach nodded. “The sister, Isobel. She dresses like a servant. I actually thought her to be one. Her dress is drab as if she does not wish to garner any attention. She seems the more intelligent and far more beautiful of the two.”

“Then marry the drab dressing one,” Ramey said. “Do not complicate things.”

Darach’s lips curved. The man had a way of setting things straight.

Upon entering the great hall, there were not as many people about like the day before. He stopped to speak to a group of sheepherders, who were there to complain about land distribution. Darach called to Stuart, who along with a group of guardsmen, had been riding out to inspect the lands.

“Ride out with these men and review their land allotments. Ensure they each have the same quarter that buts up to the river.”

Stuart studied each man in turn with so much intensity that they began to shrink back. “I was just there, speaking to ye less than seven days ago. What has changed?”

“Nothing, sir,” one finally said. “We were told to come and ensure the laird agreed.”

Darach whirled to the group and shouted. “My brother’s word is my word. Do not ever question it.” He curled his hands into fists. “If anyone here brings up something that my brothers have already given a decision on, I will throw ye in the dungeon.”

The room emptied.

Stuart pressed his lips together and gave him a droll look. “That worked.” His gaze moved past Darach to a doorway and he turned to find Isobel standing there, her journal in hand, eyes wide.

“I suppose her father doesn’t threaten his people with a dungeon first thing in the morning,” Stuart quipped.

Darach let out a breath. The last thing he needed were delicate creatures that had to be coddled every other moment.

Just then a woman dragging a child behind rushed past him. She grabbed a man who stood by the doorway. “Ye have nothing important to tell the laird. He is much too busy for yer whining.”

Darach frowned while unsure what to do.

The family hurried out.

Then to his surprise, laughter rang out.

Isobel was laughing so hard, she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Oh, my goodness, this is the most entertainment I’ve had in years.”

She walked into the great hall and turned in a circle. “Ye managed to run off even the dog.”

“My dog is probably in the kitchen,” Darach grumbled.

Stuart went to Isobel. “What do ye have in that book of yers?”

When she smiled at his brother, she transformed, becoming even more beautiful. “I write my thoughts. Although, for the most part, I have to save my thought until later, since I do not carry ink and quill. But it gives me comfort to hold it.”

He was about to ask her about her choice of dress but couldn’t find a way to word so that it would not be insulting. Just then his mother and the other women appeared.

They descended the stairs as Darach walked back toward the kitchens.

“Darach,” his mother called out.

“I must find Albie,” he said, turning on his heel and hurrying away.

Once he found his dog—who was, in fact, in the kitchen—he and the animal went out the side door to where the guardsmen practiced. Already warriors warmed up by swinging their swords with one arm and then the other.

They were learning the trick of tossing the sword from one hand to the other and completing mirror maneuvers. His brother Ewan, who’d returned from mainland Scotland, taught them the motions. Ewan stood in front of several men, explaining how it worked as the men tried to do it. Many times, swords fell to the ground; other times, the men managed to catch it but could not complete the motions.

Darach strolled to where the men were and watched as Ewan demonstrated several times before trying it himself. The first few times, although he managed to catch the sword, he could not complete the movements exactly the same with his right hand.

Before long, he was sweating from the exertion but was able to complete the maneuver.

“Darach, people have gathered in the great hall,” Cairn called out from a safe distance. “Ye should come and listen.”

“Is Stuart not there?” he responded, annoyed at the man, who’d