The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1) by Hildie McQueen (ereader for android .TXT) 📕

get a better view of the surroundings. Hitching up her skirts, she began climbing and did not stop until breathless. Then she turned and inhaled the salty air that was as familiar as any part of her body.

From where she stood, she could see a loch and the sea that spread across the horizon circling the land. In the distance to her left, she caught sight of the small, thatched roofs of cottages on the edge of what had to be the nearest village.

She lowered onto the ground, then pulled her knapsack open. It was hard to decide what she’d sketch. So many beautiful views and so different from back home.

It was a long time before she stopped and studied her drawing. She’d drawn the opposite side, away from the village. It was the portion of land that looked uninhabited, untouched by man. Mountains provided a beautiful background for the sloping hills where sheep grazed lazily in the sun. A lone herder meandered about, his staff in hand as he watched over the flock.

For a long time, she wondered about the man’s life. Did he have a family? Where was his home as she could not spot one? Once again, she looked to her sketch and began to add the last few details. Such as the way the sun cast shadows from each animal, showing the way it shined on the side of the hills.

So enthralled in her drawing, she wasn’t aware someone was just below until the deep voice called out. Isobel looked down and groaned.

Darach stretched, his hands up over his head. A dark dog ran in circles around him barking and frantically wagging its tail.

When the dog brought a stick to his master, Darach took it and threw it. At once, the animal raced after it.

She could not look away, it was the first time she’d seen him so relaxed.

There was something different about the way he stood there, his arms down by his side as he looked out to the sea, the wind blowing his golden tresses sideways. He didn’t seem to mind that his shoulder-length hair whipped about his head as he didn’t try to tame it. Instead, he crouched down and welcomed his dog against his chest when it returned with the prized stick.

Hugging the animal, the sound of his laughter wafted up to where she sat, and Isobel smiled at the sound. Even an unfriendly man like Darach seemed more approachable when alone outdoors.

Still, she did not care for him. Like Beatrice had said, he’d changed and was no longer the nice young man she once knew.

Darach, his dog beside him, raced in a large circle several times. The dog’s happy barks the only sound. He fell to the ground and again laughed when the dog pounced on him and began licking his face.

Isobel prayed they’d remain in that position as she hurriedly sketched. It was probably a rare moment for the new laird to be granted time alone.

From the side door of the home, two men emerged. Both Ross men. Stuart and Ewan, who were of similar build with broad shoulders and dark hair, approached their older brother. The stark difference in coloring between the two who approached and Darach was striking. And yet, all three had similar features.

As they began speaking, Darach pulled out a strap and tied his windblown hair back. He assumed a stiffer demeanor, his head bent forward as he listed to what his brother said.

A few moments later, the three walked toward the keep. The dog followed, its stick in its mouth but his tail no longer wagged.

Once the men disappeared into the house, Isobel again studied the surroundings. Soon the sun would disappear behind the trees and the day would end. She made a mental note to come back to the same spot another day at sunset.

For now, it was best she returned inside. Even though her mother and sister were used to her disappearing to spend time alone, the Ross women were not, and she did not wish to come across as rude.

Moments later, in the bedchamber, she put her knapsack away, rinsed her face and hands in the basin, and went to the sitting room.

The women were drinking honeyed mead and discussing the festival. It seemed she’d not missed much.

“There ye are,” her mother said with a smile and looked to her hands. “I’d hoped ye would bring yer sketchbook so Lady Ross could see how talented ye are.”

Isabel’s stomach lurched, and she was thankful to have dropped off her bag. Otherwise, they’d see the sketch of Darach and his dog.

“I only did a bit of sketching today. I promise to do something wonderful and gift it to ye, Lady Ross.”

Settling into a chair next to Beatrice, her sister filled her in on what was planned so far for the festivities. She loved seeing her sister so animated and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Beatrice chose to ignore the fact that she was there to find a husband.

Not only had Beatrice not spent time with Darach, but she acted as if there was nothing to worry about.

“I must apologize for my son,” Lady Ross said, looking at Beatrice. “Darach is so busy, he has not made an opportunity to spend time with ye.”

At once, Beatrice’s countenance changed. With a sharp inhale, she then forced a smile. “I do not mind at all. I am here to spend time with ye and the other members of the family as well.”

Lady Ross frowned and exchanged a look with her mother. “Ye are gracious. However, it is time for my son to marry and it would make me so happy if he were to choose ye or Isobel. Yer mother and I have been friends since childhood, we want our families bonded.”

At her name being mentioned by Lady Ross, Isobel’s mouth fell open. She looked to her mother, but she was smiling and nodding with a warm look to Lady Ross.

Perhaps her mother had not