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

“In thirteen days.”

Duncan gave him a confused look. “That is a strange number of days.”

“A part of my marriage agreement. That my new wife and I remain near each other for a fortnight.”

“Sounds like an intelligent rule. We should adopt it,” Duncan said, surprising Darach. “A good way to establish a relationship. Especially in an arranged marriage.”

Darach had to agree.

Five days later.

Darach went to the great hall to find food. It was past the midday meal, which meant he’d been in his study too long. He only stirred because his stomach growled.

He stopped when he saw Isobel sitting at a table with his mother, sister, and her sister. Since he was late to the meal, no one sat the high board. He went to sit next to her.

His mother beamed at him. “I am glad that ye join us for the meal, son.”

“It looks as if all of ye are finished,” he replied looking to their empty plates.

Isobel met his gaze. “We are enjoying conversation and will keep ye company while ye eat.”

The husky undertone of her voice brought an immediate reaction. Something in his stomach fluttered making him feel like an adolescent lad. Darach cleared his throat and motioned for a servant.

While he ate, he listened to them talk about practical matters that he’d not considered. Interesting how the women could be so aware of the people’s wants and needs. Things that did not include just food and housing. They spoke of visiting expectant women to ensure the midwives were aware of their upcoming births. The subject of clothing and blankets as well as basic schooling for both lads and lasses in the village was discussed.

Both Isobel and Beatrice spoke of the work they did back at North Uist caring for the elderly and the preparation of baskets with specific items that would ensure they were taken care of during the winter months.

As he listened, it became apparent how much his mother and the women of the keep did for others, while representing him. These works had not been done while his father was laird.

“Mother?” he interrupted.

Her gaze moved to him, lips curving. “Aye.”

“All of this that ye’ve started doing, where are the supplies ye need coming from?”

His mother paled and the other women became silent, their gazes locked to her. “I suppose from here, from yer coffers. I-I should have…”

“Ensure ye leave enough for those that come here to eat and request help. Perhaps some of those baskets can be prepared and stored here for those times,” Darach said and continued eating.

He didn’t look up as he wanted to allow the women to regain their composure.

When his mother’s hand covered his, he gave her a wink. “Ye do good work, Mother, I am very proud of ye.”

When her eyes teared up, he wondered if he’d done something wrong. At the first tear slipping down her cheek, he turned to Isobel.

She gave him a warm smile. “Ye should be proud. Lady Mariel has wonderful ideas for great work. We will not have spare time in the least.”

The women became animated; Ella appointed herself scribe rushing off to gather paper and quill.

Darach leaned over to Isobel’s ear. “Would ye like to go to one of the villages with me tomorrow?”

His wife nodded.

“I best go see what the needs of the people are today.” Darach pressed a kiss to Isobel’s temple and stood.

There were only a few people there to see him. A couple wishing to marry, several farmers, and a sheepherder.

A family came to stand before him with an elderly couple in tow. “We cannot house them any longer,” the woman said giving the elderly couple a side glance. “They are a bother, we have six bairns and no place to keep ’em.”

“What do ye suggest I do?” Darach asked, looking to the elderly couple. The man did his best to comfort his wife, who cried into a dirty handkerchief. Their clothing had been mended multiple times, their shoes barely holding together.

The man, at least, looked as if he didn’t wish to be there. He looked to the elderly couple with sadness. “My parents do not need much, my laird, a simple cottage.”

“We should be the ones to get a cottage,” the woman interjected, lifting a chubby bairn higher on her hip.

Darach looked to where Isobel and the women sat. They’d obviously not overheard. He motioned to a servant. “Bring my wife here.”

Isobel hurried over, her gaze falling on him, then to the family gathered. “What happens?” she asked standing next to the elderly couple.

“It seems,” Darach said. “That instead of honoring his parents, Seac defers to his wife, who wishes them sent away.”

The woman’s face turned red, and she glared at the couple as if it were them who’d done wrong by her.

“Laird, allow me to explain,” Seac said. “I do not want my parents sent off. It is just that we have many mouths to feed and not enough food.”

Holding back the urge to point out that he and his wife and the bairns looked quite plump, compared to the thin elderly couple, Darach met the man’s gaze until he looked away.

“They should remain here with us for a spell. We can ensure they have a warm roof and food until a proper cottage is built for them,” Isobel suggested. By her bright expression, she was anxious to get on with her first project.

“I agree,” Darach said, then looked to the son. “If not for yer bairns, I would strip all the farmland and livestock ye have been granted. I would have more respect for ye, if ye’d come to ask for help to build yer parents a proper home of their own. But instead, ye pay heed to yer wife’s evil tongue.”

The man paled. “I offer my apologies and true alliance to ye.”

“Yer land and livestock will be halved. A young family who came seeking a grant will be given the other half. Now be off.”

The couple exchanged a look of terrified alarm. When