“Lady Macdonald, I must compliment yer cook. The meal is delicious,” Stuart, ever the diplomat told the hostess, who beamed with pride.
“Her name is Willa; she is actually quite young. However, her cooking is beyond reproach and the reason why we are visited again and again by people hoping to taste what she serves.”
The woman studied Duncan for a long moment. “My daughter writes and informs me that she had occasion to spend time with ye.”
Stuart along with Evander and Padraig all turned to him with curious expressions.
“Aye, we spoke in the parlor once. She noted that Evander and I have the same trait. Eyes of two different colors.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Lady Macdonald leaned forward studying his face. “Ye do.” She whirled to her son. “Evander, did ye notice?”
“I did Mother,” her son replied giving Duncan a knowing look.
Lady Macdonald studied them each again. “Evander’s eyes are blue and brown, where yers are the Ross hazel in yer left eye and brown in the right. How delightful,” she exclaimed.
He and Evander looked at one another for a split second, a sort of bonding over their trait forming.
The Macdonald looked from his son to Duncan. “A MacNeil trait I believe.”
“Aye, it is,” Lady Macdonald said with a wide smile. “My own father had two different colored eyes. One brown and one hazel, like yers, Duncan.”
“I have met my grandfather and it was strange to see someone else who had the same eyes as me,” Evander said. “Now ye are the second person.”
Duncan didn’t like being looked at so closely. When people studied a person overly long, sometimes they noted the hidden things.
Thankfully, just then musicians entered to entertain, and everyone returned to their meals.
Duncan rushed to his room as soon as he could without seeming rude. He was not comfortable with so many people he didn’t know, and the music didn’t help settle him at all. As a matter of fact, most times he found it to be an annoyance.
He paced the bedchamber as familiar aches began. The torment was not only physical, but it was mental as well. His mind would go to dark places and there was little he could do to stop it. This was a most inconvenient time as the episodes of despondency would sometimes last two or three days. At home, he’d work until too tired to move or he’d lock himself in his room and keep away from people. Here neither option was a possibility.
“Not now,” he gritted the words out loud through a clenched jaw.
Knocks on the door made him want to scream for the person to go away. If it were not that he was somewhere unfamiliar, he would have.
“Come in.”
Lady Macdonald appeared holding a tray with two cups upon it. “Herbs for yer head. Yer brother told me ye suffer from headaches. I do not wish to disturb ye but would like a word in private before ye retire.”
Forcing himself to settle, he motioned to a chair and lowered to the one next to it. He picked up the cup feeling out of sorts holding the delicate item in his large, calloused hands.
The liquid was sweet and tasted of spices, he’d never had before. “What is this?”
“It is a spice called cinnamon that I purchased from one of the ships that stopped here for a while after suffering some damage.”
Duncan drank it down, enjoying how the fragrance combined with the boiled herb did indeed help him settle.
“Here drink mine as well,” Lady Macdonald pushed her full cup into his hands.
He drank, but this time slower. “What did ye wish to speak with me of Lady Macdonald?”
“Beatrice’s letter. I did not wish to say more in front of my husband and sons. She claims ye have expressed a desire to court.”
“Court?” Duncan looked into the cup wondering if he could ask for more. It was delicious and it would give him time to consider how to reply. “I am not sure what ye mean.”
Lady Macdonald chuckled. “Ye have a headache and I am sure this is not the most appropriate time to speak of such things. However, since ye leave soon, I find there is no other time.”
“Aye, of course,” Duncan replied focusing on the woman. “What exactly did yer daughter write that concerns me?”
With a look of confusion, Lady Macdonald pulled the letter from the hidden pocket within her dress folds. “She states that ye have expressed a desire to court her for marriage and that is why she wishes to remain there longer.”
Duncan waited for a moment hoping to come up with a suitable response. He didn’t wish to tell Lady Macdonald that her daughter lied. Could it be he’d said something that would have led the lass to think he was courting her?
“When we spoke, we did not come to any avowal,” he finally said.
“But ye do wish to court her? Or should I assume that my daughter has been otherwise compromised?”
His eyes rounded. “Not at all. We have not been alone, except for once, and only briefly.”
“I see.” Lady Macdonald lifted a brow. “Ye have not replied to my first question.”
Despite his lack of being part of any courting ritual in his life, Duncan knew enough about mothers to keep from angering Lady Macdonald in any fashion.
“I find Miss Beatrice to be exquisite. In truth, I do not believe to have ever met a woman as beautiful. It would be an honor to court her.”
Duncan was satisfied he’d replied correctly without compromising himself. It seemed Lady Macdonald was not as happy with his reply. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him for a beat longer than comfortable.
“We shall discuss this further upon my visit to South Uist. It will be at least a sennight until I arrive, hopefully not more. I must wait until after the MacLeod’s visit. Hopefully, they will not extend their stay past two or three days.”
She took the empty cup from his hand and the other one and placed them back on the tray. “I will ensure to pack some of this cinnamon for ye to take. Let yer cook know it must boil in the water until the aroma rises.”
When the woman walked out, Duncan was too preoccupied with what Beatrice had written that he didn’t notice the episode that had threatened was gone.
Why would the lass write such a thing? If anything, he was the one she’d spoken to least of all his brothers. From what Stuart had said, she’d spent a great deal of time with Gideon.
He considered their conversation in the parlor. She’d held a journal and had prepared quill and paper to write to her mother about her desire to remain at Keep Ross longer.
Everyone knew the reason. Isobel, her sister and Darach, his brother, were going through a rough time. Isobel was not in good spirits and Beatrice wished to be there to comfort her sister. It was the second time she’d extended her visit, which was good news for both Isobel and Duncan’s sister, Ella, who’d become very close to Beatrice.
Obviously, Lady Macdonald had been misled to think he was to court Beatrice.
Duncan sighed and looked around the bedchamber. The Macdonalds did not spare expense in furnishings. Nor in any other manner from what he’d seen. The men were dressed in fine fabrics and Beatrice’s dress, the day he’d spoken to her, had been exquisite.
They were wealthy and had no need for an alliance, other than to ensure future peace. It would be in his clan’s interest to remain closely bonded with this clan. However, he was not the right man to marry the beautiful Beatrice.
Never once, since his escape from capture, had he ever considered courting a woman with the intent to marry.
As a matter of fact, he didn’t allow himself to dream of a normal life, with a wife and bairns. That was not to be his reality.
Courtship to a laird’s daughter was an impossibility. One did not court such a woman unless with the intention of marriage. And the one thing Duncan was sure about was that he would never marry.
Chapter Two
Dún Láidir, Keep Ross, South Uist
Beatrice Macdonald paced the parlor impatient to know what would happen upon her mother opening the l
etter she’d sent. It had been four days since Duncan and Stuart had gone to North Uist and they were expected to return this day. The next day at the latest.
If her mother returned with them, she wasn’t sure what would happen. Of course, she’d immediately inform her that she’d not been truthful in stating that Duncan was courting her. No sooner had he left with the letter than she’d realized what a dreadful mistake she’d made.
What if her brother read it and demanded Duncan marry her immediately? Or if her mother returned with him and insisted there be a wedding? Goodness, the things she got herself into by being so impetuous.
“I have been searching for ye everywhere,” Ella Ross said as she walked in and came to stand next to Beatrice. “Should have known ye would be here, as much as ye like the view from these windows.” Ella reminded her so much of her brothers with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She was tall for a woman, but unlike the muscular Ross men, she was curvy.
“How can ye not?” Beatrice replied with a smile. “The waves are mesmerizing.”
“Indeed,” Ella said following her line of sight to the darkening waters as the sun had recently set. “I do love it. However, I am not here to speak of the view, but to make plans for our traveling to the village tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
Ella gave her a quizzical look. “There is to be a festival at the village square, and Gideon has agreed to escort us.”
“That is wonderful,” Beatrice replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “It will be a distraction from worry. I am so very anxious to hear what Mother’s reply will be. I know she will be displeased at me for extending my visit.”
“Bah!” Ella exclaimed with a wave of her hand. “I am sure she will be glad to come to fetch ye as she and Mother enjoy spending time together.”
“If she comes right away, yer mother is gone. The only ones here are ye and I.”
Laird Darach Ross, Beatrice’s sister Isobel, and Lady Mariel Ross had all gone to the Isle of Barra to visit Clan MacNeil. They were not expected to return for at least a sennight, perhaps longer.
It was best to make the most out of her time there Beatrice considered. “Tomorrow we go to the village and we stay as long as we wish because if Mother arrives, my freedom may well be over.”
“Ye fret too much. I am sure yer mother will not mind traveling here. Duncan and Stuart return soon and once they do, ye will see that all is well.”
Her friend studied her for a moment and then smiled. “I bid ye a good night.”
Once Ella left, Beatrice settled into a comfortable chair and continued her perusal of the darkening view. Her friend was right. Other than her mother possibly being annoyed with her; she’d spend a few days there and then she and her mother would return to North Uist together.
The thought of returning home made her sad. Not only would Isobel not be there, but she’d be without her new friend Ella.
Her acquaintances back in North Uist would provide a good distraction. Although in fairness, they did little more than gather for tea, needlework, and walks.
For some reason life at Keep Ross was much more entertaining. There were the morning visits from villagers, a parade of peddlers, the siblings’ interactions at dinnertime. They squabbled and always debated different topics over last meal.
In comparison, her home life was more what she would describe as peaceful. Her brothers and father kept from discussing anything of importance at the table. Usually, it was her mother who carried the conversation, which centered on what needed to be done around the keep.
At Keep Ross, the views of the sea from almost every window were enchanting. The beauty of it never waning. Beatrice could spend hours just looking out at the never-ending ebb and flow of the waves.
Once in bed, Beatrice looked up at the ceiling and considered what would happen if her mother approached Duncan about her letter. The poor man would be caught by surprise and would probably give away the fact he had no intention of courting her. Not only that, but he would probably inform her mother it was a lie as well.
Because Duncan Ross did not live at the keep, she’d not gotten to know him well. The conversation they had in the parlor prior to him leaving had been their first and only one. He’d come offering to take her back home since he was traveling to North Uist.
It had been after that conversation and a strange feeling she got from speaking with him that made her choose him as being the one courting her.
At the time, it had made sense. Her mother would come to fetch her and would probably not run into him since he lived elsewhere. The plan had merit, except for that she’d not considered that he’d be delivering the message.
Poor Duncan, he did not deserve for her to put him in such a spot. He was already a quiet man, surely her mother’s questioning would put him ill at ease.
There was an ambiguity about him. Even when his siblings referred to him, it was as if they held back a secret, something that they kept hidden within the family.
Despite his large size, muscular build, and elusiveness, she’d found herself drawn to him. It could be because he had two different colored eyes like her brother, Evander; or that despite his quiet nature, he seemed kind. Admittedly with his dark brown hair he kept pulled back and tied with a strap and the dark shadowing on his strong jaw, he was particularly handsome. He had a dangerous allure that attracted Beatrice.
So much about Duncan Ross made her curious to find out more. Perhaps she’d ask Ella questions during their ride to the village the following day.
After all, she expected there would be a conversation between her and Duncan upon his return. She would be seeking him out to apologize for misleading her mother and implicating him in her schemes.
A shiver went through her at the thought of the huge man becoming angry. What would his reaction be?
She closed her eyes and the image of his face appeared. He was handsome, his mannerisms so measured it was as if he fought for control of each movement and word he spoke. Beatrice turned to her side and listened to the sounds of the ocean until it seemed to permeate everything in the bedchamber.
The next morning, first meal was a hurried affair as Beatrice and Ella were anxious to prepare for their day and head to the festival.
Having ordered a carriage be prepared, all that was left for them to do was to fetch their shawls and ensure Gideon was ready to escort them.
“Where is my brother?” Ella exclaimed with an annoyed huff. “I hope not to have to wake him.”
Beatrice studied her friend. They decided to wear serviceable gowns, so they’d not stand out too much. Ella wore a dark brown dress, her vest just a shade lighter and her wavy hair had been brushed back and braided. A single braid hung down her back to between her shoulder blades. Beatrice wore her hair pinned into a bun at her nape, her dress was a light tan with a tartan vest and sturdy boots on her feet.
“Must I go fetch him?” Ella started to stand when Gideon strolled into the dining room.
He looked to them and yawned widely. “I could have slept much longer,” he announced.
“I am glad to see that at least ye are dressed. Do not forget ye promised to take us to the village this morning,” Ella reminded him while looking him over.
Gideon yawned again. “I wish for nothing more than to return to my bed.”
“If only we could all take such luxuries,” Caelan said as he walked in. Unlike his brother, he looked to have been up for a while. Every strand of his reddish hair perfectly in place and dressed in what she could only describe as English attire, he lowered into a chair, stretched out his legs, and crossed his booted ankles.
A maid entered, and he asked for a cup of tea. “I have already eaten,” he explained to them.
Caelan took both her and Ella in. “Good morning Miss Beatrice. Sister. What are yer plans for the day?”
“Good morning,” Beatrice replied and looked to Ella.
“We are going to the village. There is a festival and Gideon is e
scorting us,” Ella informed her brother. “Would ye like to come with us?”
“Ye know I cannot,” Caelan replied with a droll look. “There is nothing about a festival that interests me.”
“What does interest ye?” Beatrice asked and took a bite of bread.
Gideon huffed. “Long boring conversations with old men about the political state of the country and such.”
“Ye should take heed and pay more attention to such things.” The older brother gave Gideon a sharp look and then met Beatrice’s gaze. “I prefer pursuits such as hunting, competing, riding, and yes, I do enjoy conversations about topics that affect us.”
“Such as?” Beatrice was intrigued.
“The monarchy’s ever-changing mandates and philosophy,” Caelan replied.
The man was not like any highlander she’d met. The only men who seemed to enjoy topics of philosophy and such were often older men, lowlanders, or Englishmen, which she preferred not to hold company with.
“Interesting,” Beatrice replied.
“He is not a true highlander,” Ella said shaking her head. “Spent too much time studying in the lowlands and doing whatever it is his mother insisted he do.”
Caelan gave Ella a patient look and then met Beatrice’s gaze. “Mother wished for me to be educated. She believes in the expansion of one’s mind, Miss Beatrice.”
“We of small minds must prepare to go,” Gideon said standing. “Brother, I informed Ewan that I’d be gone to the village today. He will be here shortly to assist ye in whatever tasks necessary.”
Caelan was serving as clan laird since his older brothers were gone. As a bastard son, most families would not consider it. However, Darach Ross had insisted that Caelan be treated the same as the rest of them were. Therefore, being third born, he took the duty of laird in Darach and Duncan’s absence.
It seemed to Beatrice that Ewan and Gideon didn’t mind one bit.
“If Ewan does not appear, I have the council,” Caelan replied lifting a cup to his lips.
A proper gentleman Caelan stood when she and Ella did. He remained silent as they hurried out.
The Beast Page 2
