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

let out a breath. “Ye do not have to lie. I saw her this morning. I ask that ye not continue to do it in the same bed I will sleep on.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked to where Lilia was. “Very well.”

“Must I remain for the rest of the games?”

“Aye, ye must. As my betrothed, it is good for our people to see ye here, with me.”

Isobel nodded and turned away to climb the steps back to her seat. Her heart was heavy in her chest. Now she understood why so many women looked so burdened. The fact all control over their life was gone, was weighty indeed.

With all the wedding preparations, the days flew by and despite her trepidation of her mother and sister leaving, Isobel did her best to present a happy disposition.

The last thing she wanted was to cause worry to either of them, but her insides churned at noting that not only had the woman not been sent away, but she acted bolder than before, even sitting near the high board for meals.

“According to Laird Ross, yer father was in good spirits during their visit,” her mother said while watching Annis brush her hair. “I only wish he could be here for this day.”

“Me as well, Mother,” Isobel said.

The door opened. Beatrice and Ella, who seemed to have become best of friends, entered. “I have news,” Beatrice said. “Ella has invited me to remain here for a bit longer and I think I will.”

Their mother’s eyebrows flew up. “Whatever for Beatrice? We have to plan marriage arrangements for ye. It will not be possible if ye are here.”

“I could as easily find a husband here,” Beatrice quipped. “There are many handsome men about.” Her eyes sparkled.

That her sister was not as worried as before about Isobel’s marriage to Darach, was because she’d convinced her sister all was well. Keeping the farce going longer could prove to be impossible, especially if she and Darach were not compatible in bed.

“Despite agreeing with Mother,” Isobel started. “I do not think ye can choose a husband without Father’s approval. We do not have that kind of freedom.”

Her mother gave her a sharp look. “Isobel do not be so glum. Ye are about to marry a rather bonnie man, who I am sure will make ye very happy. Yer sister will also have a good match. I will ensure it.”

“Beatrice,” her mother said. “Ye and I will discuss future plans after the wedding. For now, we must ensure yer sister’s grand day goes off splendidly.”

The day did in fact proceed without issue. The ceremony in the family chapel was intimate and lovely.

Despite herself, Isobel wept upon reciting the vows, while looking into Darach’s eyes. He wiped her tears with his thumbs as he recited his. To everyone looking on, it was a sweet gesture. Isobel, however, fought to not bat his hands away.

In the great hall, the celebration was attended by only theirs and a few local families. Since the festival had just been held, the Ross’s decided to keep the wedding smaller.

In the following days, Darach and Isobel were to ride into several villages ensuring all were aware of the marriage. It wasn’t at all what Isobel envisioned, but it was exactly what she wanted. No fanfare and throngs of strangers there to see her and their laird marry.

Every table in the great hall was filled. Either the families or guardsmen joined in the wedding feast.

Each brother stood and gave a toast to them, poking fun at Darach, who took each barb with good humor.

As the hours passed, Isobel became anxious. The wedding bed loomed, and she couldn’t help but visualize Darach without clothing. They would become husband and wife with their bodies; a bond that could not be broken. At least not by her.

He slid a look in her direction. “We should dance.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the area that had been left open for dancers and the musicians began a soft ballad. The familiar words of a man yearning for love was sung beautifully by a young man. They circled the room and were joined by several couples.

Isobel felt small in Darach’s arms. Her new husband was an accomplished dancer, as she’d learned at the festival. He kept her close as they circled around with the other dancers.

“I will always remember this day Isobel,” he whispered. “Ye look beautiful.”

Shocked at his words, Isobel looked up at him. There was warmth in his gaze, and she wanted to believe that they’d be happy together. “It is a wonderful night.”

When the song ended, he kissed her lightly on the lips, much to the delight of those in attendance who clapped happily.

They returned to the high board just as a group of dancers began performing.

“Ye should go prepare for bed. Ye look quite tired. There is only one thing left and then ye can sleep.”

When she met his gaze, he had the audacity to smile.

Something fluttered in her stomach and she met her mother’s gaze, who motioned with her head toward the stairs.

When Isobel stood, the room went silent, every set of eyes following her to the stairs. It was then she realized Lilia was not present. To make sure, she looked over her shoulder to where the woman usually sat, and she was not there.

Perhaps Darach had kept his word and sent her away after all.

Her mother and Lady Ross came to her and walked with her up the stairs. No one else would be present when she prepared for bed, as she’d asked that only both mothers be there. It was embarrassing enough having to walk across the room as everyone speculated where exactly she went.

When she walked past the room she’d shared with Beatrice, Isobel blew out a breath. Tonight, her life would change. She was to be the new Lady Ross, taking her mother-in-law’s place.

“Will I be sharing his bedchambers after tonight?” Isobel asked, having heard that Lady Ross and the