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

“Ye must meet him when ye go to deliver my letter. He does not like the feature and complains about it. Although I have to admit, women seem to find it quite attractive.”

Duncan frowned, which told her that he didn’t agree with the statement. “If he is there, I will meet him.”

“Good,” Beatrice replied, and when she looked back up, he was already walking out. “A man of few words.”

It was strange that she’d felt at ease with Duncan Ross. While speaking to him, she’d felt as if he would be protective of her. Unlike most men who considered her no more than a spoiled doll, he’d not looked down at her with disdain or forced patience.

Beatrice blew out a breath and lifted her quill. What could she say to convince her mother, who would then talk her father into allowing her to remain at Keep Ross longer?

Her family had plans for her to marry soon, so it would take a very good reason for them to allow her to remain longer. However, her mother was keen on her marrying a Ross.

Her lips curved. She would tell her mother that one of the Ross men was courting her. It was possible her mother would return, but it would not be right away.

But who?

One by one, she considered the single brothers. “Stuart seemed brokenhearted over the breaking of his betrothal. Gideon was too much like her, brash and without care. Caelan was distant and in her opinion a bit aloof. She considered Duncan last. He was older and if she were to be honest, the most handsome. It was hard to picture him in a romantic way. Not that he was off-putting at all and beneath the hard-muscled façade, she sensed vulnerability.

He would be a good choice, being he did not live there in the keep, it would be easier to keep her mother from accidentally running into him alone. The fact he would be delivering the letter would help it seem true.

Excited to remain there longer and provide comfort to her sister, she began writing.

His mother walked into the study and Darach pushed the ledger away.

To his astonishment, his mother went to the sideboard and poured whisky into a glass and drank from it.

“Whatever were ye thinking son?”

Of course, he instantly knew what she spoke of. “Mother, I need yer counsel. What can I do to make things right?” Darach followed suit and also went to the sideboard to pour a whiskey.

“I do not think ye can do anything at this time to change things. The damage is done. Ye have publicly proclaimed to hold yer mistress in higher regard than yer wife.”

The words were like lashes to his bare skin. He’d made a horrible mistake and now he paid the price. Isobel paid a higher one. Humiliation and pity followed her.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Darach standing by the sideboard and his mother in a chair. She motioned to her empty glass and he refilled it and handed it to her. This time she took only a sip.

Her gaze pinned him. “I am not sure what can be done at this point Darach. What do ye expect me to tell ye? That all will be well? That yer marriage is not beyond repair? If ye would not have allowed yer passions to direct ye, then perhaps yer wife would not be humiliated as such.”

“I went to find out about the bairn. Lilia is not and has not been my lover since before Isobel came here. I made a mistake going there. I am very aware now. I am not used to thinking about a wife first.”

When his mother looked at him with disappointment, Darach wished to be back at Uisdein’s keep, not knowing his fate. It had been a dark moment when he’d considered that he might not live. That he considered he might not leave a descendent was not unnatural. And yet, in truth, he could have waited to find out.”

“Mother, I beg of yet to intercede for me with Isobel. Help me make this right, or at least as much as possible.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Son, ye are a young laird. Yer father never gave ye neither advice nor example of how to be a good leader. I am proud of ye, for the way ye look after the people.”

He waited for what she’d say next, hoping for enlightenment.

When she sighed, his hopes were dashed. “The only advice I can offer is that ye give her time. Do not press her to forgive ye. Remain near at all times and do yer best to remain pleasant to her. It may be difficult as she will not make it easy for ye.”

The room seemed to close in on him after she walked out. The silence made the humming in his ears sound louder. He wanted to race up the stairs and find out Isobel’s reaction to his gifts. However, if he were in her place, the gifts would probably make things worse at this time.

When Annis, Isobel’s companion rapped at the door and stood there with a bundle, his thoughts were confirmed.

“My laird, Lady Isobel requested that I bring this here,” she said with a hint of disdain in her voice. “Where should I put them?”

He motioned to the table where he and his council sat around to hold weekly meetings. “On the table.”

With measured steps, she placed the bundle down with care and walked back out.

He drank the rest of the whisky and slammed the glass on the sideboard just as Duncan entered.

His brother looked at the glass that his mother had left. “Drinking with a ghost?”

“Mother was just here.”

“If she drank, she must be very cross with ye,” Duncan said lifting the same glass and pouring more amber liquid into it. “What does she advise?”

“That I give Isobel time and be patient.” Darach raked fingers through his hair. “I should have thought this through.