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

heard the second part of that sentence. “Mother, should we prepare for last meal?” Isobel said, hoping to draw her mother out of the room.

“Not yet darling,” her mother said with a dismissive wave. “Tell me, Mariel, why do ye think Darach is so reluctant to marry?”

“I suppose it must be the burden of his duty. Since before the late laird died, Darach has been shouldering the responsibility. My brave son has tried his best to keep our people happy. But it is a monumental task. Ye have been here just a few days and I’m sure ye’ve noticed how disillusioned our clan is.”

Isobel met the woman’s gaze. “Perhaps it is not his time to marry. With so many responsibilities, why add another.”

“My son will not be forced to marry,” Lady Ross said with a gentle smile. “I wish for all my children to marry for love. However, it is my belief that a love match will ease his burdens, not increase them.”

The woman’s statement definitely eased Isobel’s burden, she smiled widely at Lady Ross. The woman expected for Darach and the others to marry for love. The angry laird definitely did not love Beatrice, as he’d not even tried to make time to spend with her. And even better, he certainly did not love her.

Isobel let out a long breath, her lips curving. “I think we should discuss the rules for stoolball.”

“I could not believe my ears,” her mother said when they returned to her bedchamber. She’d insisted Isobel and Beatrice come into her bedchamber and sit so they could discuss what had been said. “Does Mariel really expect that her son will fall in love with someone and in turn said woman will be a beneficial match?”

Beatrice looked to Isobel; her eyes full of questions. “I am not sure what to think. But I am relieved. He is an ogre. I do not wish to marry him.”

“Ye have not even tried to get to know him,” their mother complained. “Today after last meal, ask him to take ye out to the garden for fresh air.”

Her sister looked as if her mother had just suggested she walk with a wild boar, her eyes round and both hands flat on her chest. “I will not.”

“For goodness sakes. Fine,” she turned to Isobel. “Ye do it.”

“I cannot possibly,” Isobel replied. “He and I do not care for one another.”

When their mother got to her feet and stood in front of them, it was a sign she was very displeased. “Since children, Mariel and I have promised each other not to be separated no matter what our husbands did. Even when our clans battled, we found ways to see one another. The marriage between one of ye and one of her sons will happen. I do not care who or how, but it will happen.”

“Mother,” Beatrice said in a squeaky voice. “Ye cannot force love.”

“I am aware of that,” their mother snapped. “Beatrice, ye will go for a walk with Darach tonight. I will see to it.” When her mother’s narrowed eyes turned to Isobel, it was obvious there was a task for her as well. “I believe Stuart likes to draw. Ask him about it, perhaps do something with him. Sketch him.”

Isobel almost laughed at the ridiculous idea that one of them would fall in love and be loved in return in the short weeks they’d be there. But not wishing to upset her mother further, she nodded.

Not giving up, her sister held up her hand as if their mother were a governess. “May I instead speak to Stuart?”

Their mother closed her eyes and sucked in air through her nose.

“Come Beatrice, we must dress for last meal.” Isobel grabbed her sister’s hand and practically dragged her from the room.

“I do not want to go out in the dark with him.” Beatrice’s eyes shined with unshed tears. Her sister was truly scared of Darach.

“He is not so bad,” Isobel said. “It is not like he will eat ye.”

Beatrice’s bottom lip trembled.

“Very well, I will ask him to go for a walk after last meal. Meanwhile, ye go find Stuart and go somewhere, so we are both gone and hopefully, Mother will not know who each of us is with.”

As they entered their bedchamber, Isobel considered that she herself was a bit scared of Darach Ross.

Chapter Seven

Darach sat back in his study, at least free from attending to public duties. There was so much to be done besides seeing to whatever issues people brought when coming to the keep. As important as it was to speak to people directly, there were many other matters just as important that had to be dealt with.

He looked up from a letter he was writing when Ewan and Stuart walked in. After being banished by their father and gone for years, Ewan had returned after the late laird’s death. It had been unfair to him, and Darach was sure Ewan would not soon recover from being betrayed by his own father and first wife. Though it had turned out well in the end, Ewan had married a woman that was not only beautiful on the outside but adored his brother dearly.

“Laird,” Stuart said by way of greeting. “Ye summoned?” After Stuart performed a low bow, Ewan sat.

Giving Ewan a droll look, Darach motioned for him to stand. “I did not give ye permission to sit.”

Ignoring his request, Ewan laughed and shook his head. “How long will ye keep this up, Stuart?”

“Keep what up?” Stuart replied pretending ignorance.

“I need yer advice,” Darach began, and his brothers instantly became serious. “There are summons from other lairds asking that I go and to meet with them. A request from the MacNeil to discuss issues pertaining to the Uisdein. And I am also penning a letter to King James to pledge our allegiance. It will hopefully not spur him to ask that I come in person.”

He paused and continued. “With the never-ending supplicants, I find myself with no