The Beast

by McQueen, Hildie

“Nay.”

  Beatrice sat up. She’d never met someone who planned to end up alone. “What about when ye grow old? Ye will be alone.”

  He gave her a droll look. “I have six siblings. They will marry and have children. Surely one of their offspring will look after an old uncle.” His response was flat as if he didn’t believe it. How sad that someone would give up on life and all that it might bring and expect to end their time here alone.

  “Ye are still young. There is time to change yer mind,” Beatrice told him, more to make herself feel better than for his benefit.

  “Why are ye avoiding returning to North Uist?”

  Lifting to sit, Beatrice considered her answer. “I do not wish to be used as an object, to be traded to a man in exchange for some sort of agreement between clans. My father plans to marry me off to a MacLeod. I prefer to choose my own husband.”

  “Ye have known all yer life it was not a possibility,” Duncan told her what she already knew. “Why rebel?”

  “Because I have to. Ye of all people should see that. I wish to marry a man I admire and am attracted to. Someone who I can share how I feel and who listens to me. Truly listens. I imagine the MacLeod’s to be much the same as most men.”

  Duncan shrugged. “I am sure they too have been groomed to marry someone that is chosen for them and perhaps have accepted it.”

  For some reason, sadness enveloped her and Beatrice closed her eyes as tears threatened. “I wish that things were different, but I cannot change my future. I cannot be a disappointment to my parents. Yer right. I should just accept my lot.” She wiped at a tear and drew in a ragged breath.

  “Are ye crying?” Duncan leaned forward and studied her face.

  “No,” Beatrice lied. “Smoke from the fire got in my eyes.” Once again, she settled onto the pallet and in her mind pictured that the abandoned house was where she and Duncan lived. She imagined where she’d place furniture and that they often had long conversations before retiring for the evening.

  He would envelop her in his strong arms at night and keep her safe from the outside world. Nothing or no one would dare interrupt their life.

  “Ye will be well,” Duncan said lowering next to her and pulling her against his chest.

  It was then Beatrice realized she’d been sobbing. His actions only made her cry harder in the knowledge that once her mother arrived, she would return home and be quickly married off. Her freedom and life would be forever changed.

  Duncan was silent. He didn’t try to soothe or calm her, but his quiet strength gave Beatrice comfort, and she finally stopped the tears.

  “Thank ye,” she whispered and let out a shaky sigh. “I know what I must do and will return home once my mother arrives.” Instead of moving away, she snuggled against his warm body and promptly fell asleep.

  Duncan had never held a woman while she slept. The few times he’d been intimate had been a fast interlude. A quick pulling up of skirts and lowering of breeches, no romance, only physical release.

  The picture of Beatrice’s body was singed in his mind. He’d never seen a woman fully bereft of clothing and now he was sure he had seen perfection. Her breathtaking beauty stealing his breath and leaving him unable to warn her of his presence.

  Her creamy skin didn’t contain a single blemish or mark, and her breasts were pert, with dark pink tips. She had a slender waist that flared out slightly to hips, which led down to legs that were delicate like her. He’d caught sight of the patch of dark blond hair at the apex of her sex, a place that claimed his attention and caused an immediate reaction.

  When she stirred, he inhaled her hair feeling out of place while holding the slight woman against his large, scarred body. Someone like her should not find comfort in the likes of him. He was unclean, not just physically, but internally as well.

  Beatrice was to marry a MacLeod. He tried to picture the brothers. It had been years since he’d seen either of them at a competition. From what he recalled, the youngest was a rather large man. He’d competed against Duncan in the caber toss. But other than a few words, he’d not spent much time with him.

  The eldest he recalled a bit better. He’d become drunk and gotten into a brawl during the festivities. It had taken several men to pull him off the man he was beating. He hoped Beatrice would not be marrying him and be subjected to his horrible temper.

  It was hard to imagine the beauty in his arms married to either man. Neither deserved someone like her. Beatrice deserved a man who would allow her freedom to explore. With an impulsive nature, she would always be getting into situations, so the beauty did have to be kept protected, but not so much to hinder her adventurous spirit.

  If he could, he would marry her just to set her free to be and do as she wished.

  If only he could.

  However, the beast within would never allow it. A relationship of any kind could only bring disastrous results. And he could never subject anyone, especially not someone as special as Beatrice Macdonald to it.

  Chapter Five

  The storm had made it almost impossible to ride through the night. Thankfully the rain slowed to a drizzle and Farlan Reid got out from the makeshift shelter he’d made and stretched. The fact he’d spent a horrible night only made him more determined to find Duncan Ross and make him pay dearly for it.

  It may have taken him years to find his way to South Uist, but now that he was so close to finally getting revenge, he had to do his best to keep his wits.

  First, he’d find a tavern, eat, get dry clothes, and purchase a horse. Then, he’d track down Duncan. The man would not expect to see him, as he probably believed him dead.

  Farlan’s lips curved. “They did not kill me, Duncan Ross. Ye will wish they did.”

  After walking for several hours, he made it to a small village and walked into the tavern. Probably due to the storm and because it was still early, there was no one other than one man there.

  “What can I do fer ye?” the man inquired as soon as Farlan walked in.

  “Ale, and some food.” Farlan took the man in. “I would pay ye for some clothes as well.”

  The man nodded. “Aye, there’s some extra things upstairs in the room on the right. Help yerself to what fits.”

  Moments later, feeling better in dry clothes, Farlan returned downstairs and ate the simple fare the man provided as well as a cup of ale.

  When he started to pay, the tavern owner held up a hand. “No payment sir. I do what I can to help those in need. Now ye go and help someone who needs it.”

  Farlan wanted to laugh. The only reason he’d traveled so far was to find and make a man pay for betraying him. “Where can I purchase a horse?”

  After placing coins on a table surface, Farlan walked out to find the farmer, the tavern owner had spoken of. If the day continued to be as easy, perhaps he would find Duncan soon.

  He’d not asked the tavern owner where to find his old friend, because the last thing he needed was to alert the Ross clan that someone looked for them. No, he’d have to go forward with care. He was on Ross territory and it would be too easy to be caught.

  Thankfully, the rain had stopped, giving him a clearer view of the road ahead. It was only his second time on the Isle of North Uist, and he had to admit not caring for the surroundings. As much time as he’d spent at sea, when on land he preferred not to be surrounded by it. However, the familiarity of the salty air made him feel at home as he began his trek.

  One thing he remembered about Duncan Ross, was that he preferred to be alone. Especially given the years they’d been acquainted. The many days they’d spent alone, tied up in the belly of a ship, fed scraps, and whipped until half dead.

  Farlan shook his head in an effort to dislodge the memories. Then he took a breath and scanned the surroundings. No, it was best to keep the picture of the time with Duncan. How he’d grown to depend on the man, who’d taken beatings for him and shared what was left of their meager food in an effort to keep him alive. They’d shared so much. And
then he’d betrayed him. The day had finally come that freedom was within reach and Duncan had abandoned him. Escaped alone and never returned for him.

  That he lived was a miracle. After being starved for days, the ship’s crew had taken great delight in tossing him overboard.

  He’d finally found freedom, although he’d expected it was in death.

  By some miracle he’d survived. Someone aboard the ship had taken mercy on him and tossed a plank of wood overboard. He’d clung to the wood for an entire night and been rescued by a group of fishermen.

  Now, as he stared at the surroundings, Farlan contemplated his drive to seek revenge. He had nothing to live for. His family was gone. Upon returning to his home, he’d found an empty cottage; the villagers told him his young wife and bairn had been taken years earlier. He’d found them in a grave not far from the village. They’d been either killed or died of exposure.

  Then upon seeking his sister, he found out she and their parents had succumbed to a horrible illness. Too afraid to catch what they’d had; the others had allowed them to die.

  If he’d been free, if only Duncan had come for him, he would have been able to help. He would have been there to protect his family, his wife, and child.

  Yes, it wasn’t directly Duncan’s fault, he was not so bitter that he didn’t realize the crew that kidnapped him were the ones directly responsible. Ultimately, Farlan had dispensed his own justice. Killing them one by one. Waiting at the docks, taking his time to hunt them down, and ensuring they suffered before dying.

  Those he didn’t personally kill, were dead by other means. Now he only had one left. One person he held directly responsible for keeping him from saving his own.

  A bird cawed overhead, pulling Farlan from his musings, as he spotted a young lad tugging a goat toward the village he’d come from.

  The boy ignored him until Farlan called to him. “Aye, lad. I have a coin for ye, if ye help me find a friend.”

  “Sir?” The lad stopped and stared up at him.

  “Do ye know where Duncan Ross lives?

  The lad nodded eagerly; his gaze locked on the coin Farlan held up. “In the big house next to a loch.” He pointed in the direction he’d come from.

  Farlan tossed the lad a coin. “Go on now.” The boy grinned up at him. “I can tell ye where the rest of the family live.”

  At the words, Farlan’s breath hitched. It could be he was thinking of his revenge in the wrong manner. Taking what mattered from Duncan Ross first could be something far better than just killing the man.

  “Where?”

  The lad hesitated and Farlan dug out a pair of coins and tossed them at the lad. After picking them up the boy scratched his head.

  “Past the big house in the next village.” He pointed. “That way.”

  “No one must know we were alone together, we must ensure it,” Beatrice repeated as they neared the keep. “My sister will be mortified if she were to find out that I was gone overnight.”

  Despite knowing nothing happened between them, Beatrice worried about how her sister would respond to knowing she’d done something so reckless. Goodness, sometimes she was appalled at her own behavior.

  Duncan was quiet as he guided the horse. It was strange how despite the long stretches where he didn’t speak, she found herself understanding what he thought by the way he held his head or how he looked at her.

  “I think my sister will be most cross. Hopefully, by the time she returns, there will be enough of a time span that no one will inform her about this.”

  He gave her a look and she blew out a breath. “Yes, I know, it is wishful thinking on my part.”

  The gates opened and upon entering, Ella and Caelan hurried from the front of the house to them.

  “What happened?” Ella looked her over, no doubt noticing her crumpled dress and mussed hair. “Where did ye go?”

  Stealing a glance at Duncan, Beatrice swallowed. “I went to speak to Duncan and upon my return, alone, I ended up having to find refuge for the night when the storm hit.”

  Both Ella’s and Caelan’s eyes narrowed. It was obvious they didn’t believe one word she’d uttered. Except perhaps that she’d gone to speak to Duncan.

  It was more obvious when Ella spoke again, each word pronounced slowly. “Ye allowed her to return unaccompanied?”

  “Then why did ye arrive together?”

  Duncan gave Beatrice a droll look, giving her the opportunity to continue with her story that would surely hit upon unbelieving ears.

  She slumped and let out a breath remaining silent.

  The brothers seemed to have a silent communication. Caelan took his brother’s appearance in, then slid a look to her.

  Finally, he motioned to the front door. “We must speak.”

  The great room was empty. It was too early for villagers to come and seek an audience. Then again, since Darach was gone, there wouldn’t be as many people coming.

  “Where are Stuart and Gideon?” Beatrice asked.

  Ella shrugged. “Gideon has not gotten out of bed. I suspect, he was up late partaking in too much whisky. Stuart is gone to Ewan’s house to help with whatever is needed. Since Catriona is not well enough to get out of bed yet, Ewan must remain close to home.”

  It was a relief that the only ones at home were Ella and Caelan. Beatrice took her friend’s hand. “My sister cannot know that I was gone all night. She will be most cross.”

  “Ye cannot expect to keep it from her,” Ella said. “Too many people are aware of it. We searched the house and alerted the staff to look for ye. We learned ye had gone in the direction of the village when we questioned the guards.”

  “No one came looking for me.”

  “A villager told us ye arrived at Caelan and Duncan’s home. When the storm began, Caelan supposed ye were sheltered at his house.”

  Beatrice sighed. “It is hard to remain secretive around these parts.”

  “It is,” Ella replied with a chuckle. “People are very curious. Especially when it comes to someone they are not familiar with.”

  They went through the great hall and up the stairs to Beatrice’s bedchamber. Once there, she quickly washed up and changed clothes into one of her more colorful gowns. She made a mental note to have a seamstress make her a pair of dresses in more muted tones. The light colors made her feel frivolous.

  “What truly happened?” Ella asked as Beatrice brushed the tangles from her hair. “I know my brother can be somewhat… difficult.”

  “It was so thoughtless of me to seek him. I had to know what exactly happened when he delivered Mother’s letter. What she’d said to him. I planned to find out and return immediately. Then that horrible storm hit.”

  Ella waited for her to continue.

  Beatrice relented. She had to tell someone. “We were traveling back when the storm began, and we found shelter in an abandoned building. Yer brother made a fire for us and we slept until morning.”

  “Did anyone see ye go there? Alone? Together?”

  “I am sure that if they did, the news will reach the keep soon enough. After all, ye did say the people about here are curious.”

  Ella wringed her hands. “Hopefully the rain kept the curious away.”

  “What do ye think will happen when Darach finds out?” Beatrice asked. “I am most fearful of his reaction.”

  By Ella’s surprised expression, her friend had not considered it. “I honestly do not know. He has been laird for such a short time. He is being careful about every decision. We should go speak to Caelan and Duncan. I am sure they are having the very same conversation we are.”

  They went back down to the main floor of the keep. People had begun to trickle in, mostly it seemed to get a meal and sit about in the warmth of the indoor space. Many people, especially those who traveled, did not make accommodations and hoped to garner the favor of a place to rest there at the keep.

  As they made their way to the family dining room to look for Caelan and Duncan, a boy hurried
to Ella. He handed her a message and waited, his gaze darting to the tables.

  “Go get something to eat. I will find ye later to give ye a coin.” Ella smiled as the boy scampered off.

  “Who sends ye notes via a child?” Beatrice asked, intrigued.

  Ella shook her head. “Usually, it’s my aunt who lives not too far. She often sends a boy to invite me for a visit.”

  “They have not visited since I’ve been here. Why?”

  “Because she is my father’s sister and like him is not kind to anyone. For whatever reason, she seems to enjoy my company. She and her spinster daughter are always eager for news of what happens with the family and the clan.”

  Upon entering the dining room, Caelan and Duncan looked up. When Duncan’s gaze clashed with hers, Beatrice felt a flutter in her stomach, her hand moving over the area.

  “We must discuss what we will say to Darach and Isobel about this incident,” Ella began immediately. “Someone may have seen them riding here and seeking shelter.”

  “It was storming,” Duncan said. “I did not see anyone.”

  “That does not mean no one saw ye and Beatrice leaving this morning,” Ella insisted.

  Caelan motioned for them to sit. “Ye should eat. The food grows cold.”

  Once seated, Beatrice took a piece of bread and waited for Ella to pour the tea. She then slathered butter on her bread, lifted a thinly sliced piece of meat, and placed it atop the butter. When taking a healthy bite, she noted that Duncan watched her with a frown.

  “Ye should try it. Very tasty,” Beatrice said and took a second bite.

  Ella emulated her and took a bite of her slice of bread. “It is indeed,” she said between dainty bites.

  “We will tell them the truth,” Duncan said, with a challenging gaze at Beatrice. “There is nothing to hide from. We sought shelter and nothing untoward happened.”

  “It is not that simple and ye both know it,” Caelan informed them. “Just the chance someone will report what happened and word gets to the Macdonald, could make things very complicated.”