“Hurry before Caelan decides we need tutoring,” Ella exclaimed tugging her toward the great hall. It proved impossible to stifle a giggle.
Much like most Scottish villages, the one nearest to the keep had a collection of two-story buildings that faced each other around a large square. From poles on the upstairs windows, colorful streamers waved gaily in the breeze.
Shop keepers had tied ribbons to their shingles adding to the colorful display.
People hurried up the center road, some pulling small wagons overfilled with items they hoped to sell or give out.
Lively music played and a few children held hands and danced in circles. Some older people joined in the melee as well.
Too excited to wait for Gideon, Beatrice and Ella hurried to the square wanting to see everything and to take part in all the games and activities.
As they made their way from one place to another, people greeted Ella, some asking about her brothers, others about her mother. Although studying her with curiosity, no one dared to ask who Beatrice was until Ella introduced her.
“We should shop first before finding a place to sit and enjoy the entertainment,” a breathless Ella exclaimed. “Time will go by fast and we must make the most out of each minute.”
They went from one stall to another. Ella purchased something from almost everyone, even if it was only something minute.
Several men gathered on the opposite side of the square. By their clothes, it was obvious they were not villagers, but perhaps landowners or from other clans.
Both she and Ella pretended interest in their purchases while studying the men from under their lashes.
“The one who just stretched is attractive,” Ella whispered as they made their way back to the carriage to deposit their purchases.
Beatrice wrinkled her nose. “He did that on purpose to attract attention. The one next to him with light hair. He is far more fetching.”
“Hmmm,” Ella turned over her shoulder and then gasped softly. “He caught me looking. Aye, I agree. He is quite bonnie.”
Finally, after dropping off items into the carriage, they went to find a place to sit and watch the festivities. A group of dancers performed a lively and complicated dance, their feet moving so fast, it was fascinating.
“I find it interesting that ye are so well-liked. I thought the people of the village did not fully trust yer family,” Beatrice said to Ella.
Her friend sighed. “Aye, it’s true. They do not trust my family. However, Mother and I have always spent time here in the village doing what we can for the poor and the widowed. No matter how badly Father treated the people, or perhaps because of it, we did our best to help where we could.”
“It must have been very difficult for ye,” Beatrice said.
“It was. Still is in a way. I find that without this work, I am not sure what my place in the family is.”
Beatrice believed that because she was the daughter of a powerful man and Ella the sister of one, they’d become close. Other than a future of marriage to whomever their family decided, neither she nor Ella had a true purpose.
Beatrice scanned the square, noting young women walking around the area, arms linked pretending not to notice the men who watched them with interest. Here and there a brave man would approach the women making small talk.
Most village women had a say in who they’d marry and form a family with. There was the occasional father who would orchestrate an agreement for benefit, but for the most part, it wasn’t so.
Upon noting a couple sitting together talking, the young woman blushing at something the man said, Beatrice felt a pang of sadness that she’d never experience the simple act of getting to know someone just because.
“Here comes Gideon,” Ella said looking around as if considering hiding from her brother. “I hope he does not insist we leave so soon.”
Upon reaching them, Gideon sat and looked across the square. Beatrice studied his profile. He had dark brown hair, an aristocratic nose, and a strong chin. And like his brothers, he was tall and quite handsome. Many women watched him, but he seemed oblivious.
Beatrice suspected he was fully aware that by walking across the square and sitting with her and Ella, he’d attract attention.
And not just that of the women, but also as a warning to any man who considered approaching them.
The hours flew by. They’d danced and laughed and strolled around the square. One man had actually spoken to Ella, which made them both giddy with excitement.
By the time they decided to head back to Keep Ross, the sun was setting and most of the revelers had headed to their homes. The only ones who remained were people who had enbibed too much ale.
“It was quite an enjoyable way to spend the day,” Beatrice said to Ella as they settled into the carriage. “I do not believe I’ve ever spent so much time at a festival before.”
Ella grinned. “We always spend the entire day. Gideon and I. Sometimes we drag Mother along.”
“What of Duncan? Do ye and he do anything together?”
There was an instant change to Ella’s expression. Something akin to sadness. “No, Duncan does not like crowds or large gatherings for that matter.”
“What does he do with all his time?”
Her friend met Beatrice’s gaze for a moment. “My brother is a kind and noble man… he is a loner, and it is something we have all come to accept.”
It was obvious that Ella changed midsentence what she was going to say. If Duncan had secrets that only his family knew, then Beatrice accepted they needed no reason not to share them with her.
She was anxious to ask what the man in the village had said to Ella, but she dared not ask in front of Gideon. The topic would have to wait until they were alone.
Upon returning to the keep, Beatrice realized that the Ross men had not returned yet from North Uist. She was both disappointed and glad.
One more night of not knowing what her mother’s response to her letter was a bit of an annoyance; however, it was best she get a good night’s rest because the next day, Duncan and Stuart would surely return.
The screams of gulls woke Beatrice. She sat up in the bed and blinked at the bright sunlight entering through the window. She must have slept in quite late by the tray of food that was set on a table by the fireplace.
After a long day at the festival, she’d been exhausted. Slipping from the bed, she hurried to the window. Although it was a distance away, it would be possible to spot if the Ross men had returned.
There was activity at the seashore. Horses and men meandered. There was a line of bìrlinns that had not been there the day before.
Duncan and Stuart must have returned.
Leaning forward and squinting, Beatrice did her best to see who mounted on horses, but it was hard to tell. However, it was obvious her mother did not travel with them as there was no carriage and her mother would not ride astride.
Beatrice let out a long sigh and turned away. She dressed hurriedly, wishing to head downstairs in order to find out what news they brought back.
A maid, Orla, hurried in and looked first to her and then the tray. “Ye did not eat yet miss. The food will be cold.”
“I just now woke. Thank ye for bringing it. I will eat a bit later. For now, I must dress.”
Orla had been assigned to her since Annis, her former maid now concentrated exclusively on Isobel. Her sister had taken Annis to Barra with her, so it left Beatrice to do for herself.
“Which dress would ye like?”
Beatrice eyed all the pastel gowns, they felt so out of place there at Keep Ross, where Ella and her mother, Lady Mariel, preferred earth tones.
“The green,” she said and removed her nightdress.
Moments later, she waited impatiently for Orla to finish braiding her hair. When the maid was finally done, Beatrice smiled widely. “I love it.”
The tray was cleared, and Beatrice took a deep breath before leaving her bedchamber. Hoping to find Ella, she hurried down
the corridor.
To her chagrin, Ella was nowhere to be found. Not in her bedchamber, the great hall, or the family dining room. Finally, Beatrice walked into the kitchen. “Has anyone seen Miss Ella?”
The cook, Greer, and the helpers all shook their heads.
“I believe she may have gone to greet her brothers,” a chambermaid said.
Beatrice hurried back through the great hall and out to the front door to keep watch. They would be arriving any moment and she had to know what would happen to her.
A thought struck. Perhaps they’d sent one of her brothers to fetch her. Beatrice lifted her skirts, ran through the great hall and back up to her bedchamber. She was not ready to return. Not yet.
As the party got closer, Beatrice took in each person. Stuart rode ahead, Ella beside him. There were several guardsmen who rode behind them, everyone riding at a slow leisurely pace.
Neither Duncan nor her brothers were with the arriving party. Beatrice let out a slow breath. Perhaps all was well. No one came for her and therefore her mother must have decided to let her remain for a while longer.
This would give her time to write another letter to let her know there was no courtship, and all would end well.
With a wide smile, she made her way down the stairs to greet Stuart and get information about her family.
Stuart entered, his hazel gaze meeting hers with a curious look. “My brother wishes to speak to ye. He had to go to his home, but will return in a day or two.”
“Oh,” Beatrice pretended to be surprised. “Why would yer brother wish to speak to me?”
Stuart shrugged. “From yer mother.” He handed her a wrinkled letter that he pulled from a sack he carried.
“Ye must see what yer mother wrote,” Ella said tugging her to the parlor. “I wonder if she is cross?”
“In all probability she is furious. I feel a bit guilty for not returning home,” Beatrice replied and meant it.
Before tearing the letter open, she let out a deep breath. “I hate to disappoint my parents.”
“Read it,” Ella prodded.
The letter was short. The words were troubling.
“She will come to fetch me shortly. She waits until after a visit from the MacLeod.”
Ella waited quietly, so Beatrice continued. “She is angry and points out that my overextended visit is very rude.”
“I am sure all will be well once she sees that we wished for ye to remain,” Ella said with a bright smile. “Do not worry yerself.”
When Ella left to see about a meal for her brothers, Beatrice continued reading the letter.
Yer father and I think it best that ye marry a MacLeod. Ye must put off any plans between ye and Duncan Ross.
For now, we will not discuss a marriage agreement while the MacLeod’s visit. However, once ye return it will be the first thing to be dealt with.
End things immediately and do not give Duncan Ross any reason to think ye and he will marry.
Beatrice stared at the words and pondered at marriage to a MacLeod. Which one did her parents plan to marry her to? She couldn’t picture what the MacLeod’s sons looked like. When younger, they’d been unremarkable.
The alliance between her clan and the MacLeod’s had become stronger since they’d united to fight against northern aggression. As expected, since Isobel had married a Ross, it was she that would be offered up to a MacLeod.
Like a form of payment, she would be offered as a token.
She’d speak to Duncan as soon as possible. Perhaps convince Ella to take her to his home the following day. It was best to clear things up and ensure there were no misunderstandings. Already she’d acted like a spoiled child by remaining at Keep Ross much longer than necessary. Now it was time to act like an adult and face the consequences of her actions.
Marriage in the coming months meant she’d be busy through the fall and winter as her parents would probably plan a spring wedding.
She let out a long sigh and stared out the window. When Duncan had come to inform her that he was to escort her home, why hadn’t she just accepted?
Now it felt as if she could not stand to think about returning. As much as she missed her parents and her home, the idea that she’d only be there for a few months prior to marrying was too finite.
A tear trickled down her cheek, sliding all the way to the edge of her face.
If only there was a way to be free. To live her life in North Uist at home, helping her mother, and spending the days doing as she wished.
Of course, once Evander married, it would be his wife who would work closely with her mother and be the one in charge of the staff duties. There would be no place for her.
Depending on who Beatrice married would determine what her place in a home would be. The thought of not knowing anything about her future was daunting.
Moments later, Beatrice found Ella sitting in the great room at a table surrounded by several servants.
“Ye should ensure the beds are made and bedchambers swept,” Ella instructed an older woman, who hurried off. “And ye, let the laundresses know that new linens should be placed on the laird’s bed as well as Mother’s.”
As the servants got their orders, they went off to do as told. Beatrice looked to the open book in front of Ella. It was a ledger of sorts.
“Hello friend,” Ella said greeting her. “I am afraid, to be very much behind in my duties because of yesterday.”
Beatrice sat across the table from her. “I understand. Sometimes I help Mother run the household because missing just one day will ruin an entire week.”
While Ella worked, Beatrice ate a light meal, in her mind formulating ways to escape the mundane life that awaited her in North Uist, or further north on the Isle of Lewis if her parents had their way.
It was time to take matters in hand. First, she had to speak to Duncan and find out exactly what was said between him and her mother.
“Ella? Where does Duncan live?”
Chapter Three
The emptiness of the large house was perfect. Duncan sat at a large table alone and ate a simple meal of meat and potatoes that Gara, the cook and housekeeper, served for him.
Other than a pair of servants, he and Caelan lived in the house alone.
There were few decorations on the walls or surfaces. What there was had been brought and placed by his mother and sister, who seemed to think a tapestry on the wall or embroidered pillow were a necessary item in every household.
Once a season, his mother and Ella would appear with a troupe of servants. They would scour the house top to bottom, airing out bedding and pillows and displacing every spider from their roosts in the corners.
His housekeeper would beam for days after, since she oversaw the servants who cleaned out the kitchens, dining room, and larders.
If Duncan had his way, he’d prefer to live away from even the few servants they had, not having to hide on the days when his attacks were so severe, he could not hear or see anything other than the horrors of his past.
“It is a beautiful day outside,” Gara announced. “I will be in the garden with Firtha if ye wish to find us.”
“Very well,” Duncan replied. “Do not worry about another meal. I will eat the same thing later if I become hungry. Caelan will remain at the keep for another few days.”
Gara was an older woman who’d worked at Keep Ross for many years before being offered the position there at his house. She was widowed and with only one daughter, Firtha, whom she’d brought along with her.
Quiet by nature, Gara was a perfect fit at his house. She and Firtha would spend hours gardening, sewing, or sometimes visiting in the kitchen with friends who would stop by on occasion. Often the woman proclaimed to having a rich life there and Duncan was glad for her.
Admittedly, both she and Firtha were given large well-furnished bedchambers. In Duncan’s estimation, they earned it, having to do all the work required.
There was a man name Creagh, who looked after their horses and th
e few livestock, but other than that, Duncan preferred to not hire more help.
He continued eating, enjoying the silence while considering if he would spend the afternoon working on a wall he was constructing or wait until the next day.
There was a light knocking sound and he turned toward the front of the house. He waited, but the silence stretched. He considered if perhaps an animal was testing the door to see if it could enter.
When the sound happened again, Duncan stood and walked to the front of the room. Peering out the window, he caught sight of a horse that had been tethered. The animal’s tail swished side to side, as it nibbled on grass.
It was Ella’s horse. Why would his sister ride out alone to see him?
Hurrying to the front door, he yanked it opened prepared to scold his sister. However, the pair of wide blue eyes peering up at him did not belong to his sister.
Beatrice Macdonald gave him a worried look and took a step back. “I need to speak to ye. It is very important.”
For a long moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. Invite her in or send her on her way. Of course, if he sent her away, he’d have to accompany her.
“Who escorted ye here?”
She shook her head. “No one, I came alone. It is a direct route. It was quite easy to find this home.”
“It is not safe for ye to be out unescorted. Why did ye not bring a guard with ye?”
Leaning to the side, she peered around him. “May I come inside?”
Duncan stepped back and motioned for her to enter. Then once again he scanned the outdoors, unable to believe the woman had traveled the distance to his home unescorted through unfamiliar land.
When he turned, she had removed her light cloak and blew out a breath. “It is unseasonably warm is it not? Then again, I am not familiar with South Uist… is it always this warm in the summer?”
When she eyed his cup of ale, he motioned for her to drink. “Ye can have it.”
“Oh, thank ye, I am quite parched.”
While she drank, Duncan looked her over to ensure she was not injured. Other than a tear at the bottom of her skirts, she seemed well enough. Her hair was a bit disheveled, the blond waves framing her face in a wild uncontrolled manner.
The Beast Page 3