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

It mattered not to him if a woman was astoundingly gorgeous. If she was not at ease around him, then he could not bear to take such a woman as a wife.

There was an older sister, Isobel. He recalled that when barely ten and nine, he’d considered himself enamored of her. She would be visiting as well. However, she was not offered to him to marry. One of the first things he wanted to know was why.

Although it had been quite a few years since seeing her, they had gotten along quite well. Perhaps she was already betrothed. Her mother had mentioned something about a betrothal. It would have been better, in his estimation, to have the option of Isobel over Beatrice.

When the bìrlinns reached the shore, he urged his steed forward, the animal eager to get to the water, galloped down the side of the hill until upon the shore’s edge.

It was an unnaturally warm day and despite the breeze, he didn’t like the feel of his long hair down the back of his neck, so he pulled a leather strap from his saddlebag to tie it back.

He dismounted and allowed his horse to roam along the water, meanwhile with the strap between his teeth, he used both hands to sweep up the hair, then tied it.

For a moment he took in what happened. The women were helped from the bìrlinn, each one stepping onto the moor. All four carried something, one had a pillow, two held small bags, and another, who he assumed was the servant by her drab clothing, clutched what looked to be a journal.

They were greeted with hugs by his mother and sister, while he and Gideon were held back ensuring the trunks were all loaded onto the waiting wagon.

When his mother motioned for him to come closer, Darach held up a hand and signaled to his horse.

Gideon looked at him. “Are we to go meet them now?”

“Ye can if ye wish, I have to get my horse. There will be time enough to meet them back at the keep.”

His brother shrugged. “True.”

Once mounted, he and Gideon rode in front of the procession that would take them through a village to their home. It was not a long trip, perhaps an hour, but it was long enough that he brought twenty men as a show of force and a warning to any threats.

He did not take time to speak to anyone, but the murmur of the women’s conversation floated in the air to his ears.

Even though he wasn’t sure he cared to marry, Darach could not deny that he liked the sound of women’s voices. The familiar ones of Ella and his mother’s mixed with four new ones. A particular throaty voice sounded familiar, and he wondered if it was Isobel. He recognized Beatrice right away, her hair braided wrapped tightly around her head did not distract from the young woman’s beauty. And yet he had not noticed which one was Isobel.

“Do ye think Duncan and Caelan will be at the house?” Gideon asked.

Darach had sent a messenger to ensure all was well and received a curt reply that they would come if their duties allowed.

“If they are not, I will go to them. Hopefully, they are not trying to handle a situation alone that requires our help.”

His brother looked in the direction of the estate where their brothers lived. “It is possible the people of the village there have the same complaints as those that come to see ye here.”

The rest of the way Darach became more and more annoyed at his brothers. If neither Duncan nor Caelan were at the keep when they arrived, he would leave first thing the next morning and have a serious conversation with them. Just because they lived in a different home did not mean they could ignore him—their laird.

Once the party entered the gates, Darach dismounted and waited for the carriage to stop. The women had insisted on riding together in the tight space. He expected they’d be overheated in such a small, cramped area.

A guard hurried to the door to open it and sure enough when his sister popped out her face was flushed and reddened. Darach let out a breath. Women were strange creatures.

Although the conversation had been enjoyable, Isobel could hardly wait to get out of the cramped hot carriage. Lady Ross had insisted they always took one carriage in order to spend the first hour talking without the interruption of men. It seemed her mother was in agreement although both older women looked about ready to faint.

While the older women sat with a miserable Annis squashed against the side, talking the entire time, Isobel and Beatrice had enjoyed Ella’s non-stop chatter.

It was as if the Ross women were starved for female company.

Isobel had tried, without success, to ask about Ella’s older brother, but she’d been non-committal in her replies.

“He has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders at the moment,” was her reply to his temperament. And “Darach enjoys walks alone,” when she asked about his hobbies.

After the long ride to the keep, she’d not acquired any information to help in her quest to dissuade the man from marrying Beatrice.

After the older women exited the carriage, Annis fell sideways onto the seat. Her dramatics making both Isobel and Beatrice giggle.

Isobel allowed Beatrice to exit first as she was who should get the attention. After her sister was assisted down by a large man, Isobel was assisted down by a guard, who looked past her to the interior of the carriage. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Annis straighten and give the guard an eye roll.

“There ye go miss,” the guard said, leading her to the party that awaited her.

She kept her gaze down as Annis hurried to catch up. “Miss Isobel, I will see about unpacking and such.”

“No, ye will come with me and see about getting something to drink