The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1) Read online

  Darach studied Stuart. His brother’s dark brown hair blowing across the chiseled serious face. “I cannot believe that. We have only to listen to them. To see them. To know how horribly they’ve been treated.”

  Stuart straightened his shoulders and held his head high. “We can argue every point of how things have been done in the past. It will not help those people now,” he said, motioning toward the house. “What matters right now is that we help them. Set a new standard. Blaze a new trail.”

  Pushing his shoulder-length blond hair away from his face, Darach met his brother’s unwavering gaze. “Only with ye and our family beside me can I do this.”

  Stuart’s lips curved. “With each day that passes, ye become stronger. Ye will be a great leader, Darach. I have little doubt.”

  “So, a bit of skepticism remains then?” Darach asked with a pointed look.

  Stuart returned the look with a lift to his right eyebrow. “Ye are far from perfect, brother. If one were to search for utter perfection, one has to only look at me.”

  Unable to keep from it, Darach chuckled. Albie, hearing his laugh, raced to him dragging a long branch.

  He bent to take the branch from the dog, broke a smaller piece from it, and threw it for the dog to happily retrieve.

  “Let us head back.”

  Last meal in the family dining room was a quiet affair. In the great hall, the people who had been invited to remain so that their qualms could be heard the following day were fed a simpler fare.

  “Duncan and Caelan should be here,” Ella, the youngest of the siblings, said, referring to their brothers. “Duncan should be helping ye.”

  Darach gave her an indulgent look. “They have their own responsibilities in their region. There is the threat from Clan MacNeil and the fact the people there are also revolting upon learning of our father’s death.

  One of the things Darach was thankful for was that there were seven of them—six brothers and one sister with whom he could divide the burden of what they had been left with.

  “What of Clan Uisdein?” Stuart asked, his hazel eyes flashing angrily. “They are refusing to allow me to visit and returned my messenger with threats of harm if we send him back. I am set to marry Fenella Uisdein in the spring.”

  Gideon let out a bark of laughter. “I would not count on the marriage taking place. She is no doubt relieved, do ye not think?”

  Everyone was silent and awaited Stuart’s response. Of all the brothers, he had the least fiery temperament, and the possibility of him losing control was low. However, Gideon knew exactly how to goad his brother to anger.

  Stuart’s chair crashed to the floor when he pushed back. He quickly rounded the table and wrapped his hands around Gideon’s neck. “Ye talk too much.”

  Undaunted by his brother’s attack, Gideon punched Stuart in the stomach twice stealing his wind with the second hard punch.

  Stuart released Gideon’s neck and bent forward blowing out. Just as he was to straighten, Gideon’s fist connected with the side of his face.

  “Bastard!” Stuart yelled, flying at his younger brother, who tried to flee but failed when Stuart grabbed his tunic.

  When both landed on the floor, their mother had had enough. She picked up the pitcher of ale and poured it over them. “Stop this at once.”

  Lady Mariel Ross was not at all shocked or distressed by her sons’ actions. Instead, she returned to her seat and continued eating. She gave Darach a warm look. “I have every trust in ye, son. The obstacles before ye may seem overwhelming but know that ye have the family’s support.” She slid a look to Stuart and Gideon. “Each and every one of us.”

  Gideon also returned to his chair to eat, but Stuart, drenched in ale, remained standing. Obviously, their mother knew who needed to cool down.

  “I do have news,” his mother said in a tone that made his stomach sink. Her face softened. “It isn’t anything bad. Perhaps just a bit distressing.”

  “God’s foot, Mother,” Ella exclaimed. “Tell us already.”

  “I received a message today from Lady Macdonald.”

  “What about?” Darach asked. His mother and Lady Macdonald were childhood friends, both born MacNeil’s, they had maintained correspondence even when their husbands were at odds.

  “She wishes to visit with me. Either she comes here, or I go there. I know it isn’t the best of times, but I do wish for a reprieve.”

  Darach shook his head. “Ye cannot go there. The Uisdein is threatening our northern shores. I have not heard from the Macdonald in months.

  “I do not care,” Lady Ross said, lifting her nose. “I will meet with Aileen. She can come here.”

  “It is much too unstable a time, Mother. If they come here, the Macdonald will learn of the discord with our people. He could use the information against us.”

  Stuart spoke next. “Ye cannot travel there, we cannot afford to lose the guardsmen to escort ye right now.”

  When Lady Ross and Ella exchanged looks, Darach let out a groan.

  “What?” Gideon asked. “Why are ye making a sound of pain.”

  “Do ye not see it?” Darach asked. “Lady Macdonald is already traveling here. Am I correct, Mother?” He glared at his mother.

  “Arrangements were made. I couldn’t very well tell her not to come.”

  He let out a long breath not wishing to yell. “Ye very well could have.”

  His mother brightened. “This is actually the perfect time for ye to get to know her daughter Beatrice, who comes with her. A marriage between our clans would be very beneficial.”

  Laird for only half a year, he’d not had time to think of much more than the mountain of troubles his father had left him with.

  “It took me this long to convince the clan they would not be punished for bringing their issues to me. I still have to work on what is needed for the villagers, farmers, and guardsmen. I am much too busy to begin to consider marriage.” Darach shook his head.

  Stuart, who’d calmed, lowered to a chair. “Besides, we should concentrate on my marriage.”

  “I am not sure we should align with Clan Uisdein as yet. Not until I understand where their loyalties lay.” Darach met his brother’s gaze. “Be patient.”

  Stuart nodded; his jaw tight.

  Darach was tired but couldn’t rest. He paced the length of his bedchamber, too restless to get into bed. The rap at the door brought welcome relief to his tangled thoughts, and he called out for whoever it was to enter.

  Upon the door opening and the woman entering, Darach considered what to do. In truth, he was in no mood for lovemaking. The woman Lilia had often shared his bed, but as of late, their times together had become less and less frequent.

  “My laird.” Lilia neared, her gaze sliding down his body. “Today has been most tiring for ye, has it not?”

  “It was. But I am not sure I want to be…” He stopped talking when Lilia’s hand clutched his shaft through the fabric of his breeches.

  Immediately his body responded, ready for relief in whatever form it came.

  “Lilia…I cannot possibly satisfy ye today,” Darach said despite obviously going hard, the rest of his body felt as if stones were tied to his ankles and hung from his wrists.

  “Allow me to put ye to bed then,” the woman cooed. Lilia was well versed in seeing to a man’s needs and had been his lover for the last year.

  He was sure she slept with others but Darach turned a blind eye, as he didn’t care what she did when not with him. The way he saw it, Lilia was intelligent enough to know he would never offer marriage. Other than ensuring she was provided for, he allowed her freedom.

  Voluptuous, with waist length brown hair, Lilia was enticing. Her almond shaped eyes that lifted at the outer corners, gave her an exotic look. She poured water into a pot by the fireplace and turned the lever so that it hovered over the fire to warm.

  Taking Darach’s hand, Lilia guided him to sit on the bed and then kneeled to remove his boots and stockings. “Ye sho
uld not allow yerself to become so exhausted. There are others who could shoulder some of yer burden.”

  Darach nodded. “Ye are correct, but as laird I must see to all my responsibilities.”

  As she often did, Lilia preferred to distract him from worries of the day, so she smiled, her plump lips then pursed and motioned for him to hold his arms up.

  She made quick work dispensing with his tunic and breeches until he was completely naked.

  “Just a moment,” Lilia said. Then she went to the hearth and returned with a bowl of warm water. She grabbed a thick piece of cloth and dipped it into the bowl. She wiped his face, arms, legs, and chest. Purposely waiting until last to cleanse his midsection.

  “Lay upon the bed, Laird,” she instructed, and Darach did. While she saw to his thighs and hips, his eyes became heavy.

  However, when she began to wash his sex, his breath hitched, and there was little he could do to avoid getting hard again.

  “Ye are good to me,” he murmured.

  Her wet hands slid up and down his shaft until he got even harder. “I see ye need relief, my laird,” Lilia purred, her lips tightening over the tip of his sex, then she took him fully into her mouth. It wasn’t long before he came, his head pushed back into the bedding at the release.

  If he was tired before, now he was spent.

  Sprawled naked on the bed, the cool air of the room fanned over his heated body, and he realized he had no desire to move. Lilia pulled a blanket over him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Sleep well, my laird,” she whispered in his ear and left.

  Chapter Two

  “Must I go?” Isobel Macdonald asked her mother, who flittered about her parent’s huge bedchamber directing servants to pack enough gowns and shoes as if they were traveling to visit royalty.

  Lady Macdonald looked at her, patience radiating from her gaze. “Do not forget yer gift for Ella, Isobel.” She then turned to the door. “Where is Beatrice?”

  “She is packing,” Isobel said, annoyed at not being heard. “Mother, I would prefer to remain here. I have much to do and there is no reason for me to go. It is Beatrice who Father wishes to marry off to a Ross.”

  Her mother looked at her as if she were daft. “There are three other single brothers who would make a good husband for ye. Due to yer unfortunate situation, we cannot offer ye to the new laird, but the next eldest, Duncan, I believe would make a good match for ye.”

  Isobel tried a new tactic. “Father is not going; therefore, I should remain with him. What if he becomes unwell? He will certainly be thankful for one of us to remain here to care for him.”

  “One of yer brothers can take care of him.”

  “It is not the same and ye know it.”

  Her mother wrinkled her nose in thought and Isobel became hopeful.

  “No, ye will go. I will ensure Maura looks after yer father,” she replied, referring to the housekeeper.

  Rounding her shoulders, Isobel gave up, walked out of the bedchamber and headed down the corridor to her own. It was smaller than Beatrice’s, but she’d chosen it because in her opinion this room had a much better view.

  From her window, she could see both the forest and a small inlet along which bìrlinns were lined up ready to be sailed off to sea, or in most cases across the inlet to the Isle of Harris.

  Annis, her maid, hurried in dragging a small trunk. “Miss Isobel, yer mother said ye get only a small trunk as there willna be room since she and Miss Beatrice have packed so much already.”

  It didn’t matter to her since she rarely took time with her appearance. Isobel had no desire to court or to marry anytime soon. Her plans were many as yet, only a very special man could convince her away.

  “I forgot to ask Mother how long we will remain. Do ye know?”

  Annis nodded. “I believe we are to stay for the remainder of the summer season.”

  “I cannot possibly be gone that long. Father needs me,” Isobel grumbled.

  “Just a few weeks is all,” Annis, ever cheerful, replied. “It will be a nice change.”

  “I suppose,” Isobel said. “We must pack my sketchbooks, pencils, and chalks. It will give me something to do.”

  It did not take long for her packing to be done as she only took four dresses, two nightgowns, and a few undergarments. Other than a brush, mirror, and a set of ribbons, she had no need to pack more. It was best not to stand out, as her sister was who her parents planned to marry off.

  Leaving Annis to continue sorting through her things to ensure it all fit in the small trunk, Isobel rushed out to the great hall. They were not to leave until the next day, which gave her a few more hours to plead her case against traveling.

  In the great hall, she found her father. He no longer sat at the high board, but in a wide chair that was made comfortable with blankets. His feet were elevated on a footstool that had been fashioned for comfort. As he watched over the day’s activities, he lazily ran his hand over a large orange cat on his lap. Although afflicted by an ailment that kept him from moving about easily, her father remained clear of mind and continued to lord over the clan. With light brown eyes, and a trim gray beard that covered his square jaw, he remained attractive.

  At seeing her, his lips curved, and he motioned for her to come sit next to him. Her eldest brother, Evander, shook his head, obviously annoyed at the interruption.

  She waited as the council discussed the upcoming harvest and division of duties. It was a mundane daily activity that had always fascinated her.

  “Should ye not be seeing about the midday meal?” Evander whispered in her ear.

  Isobel gave him a droll look. “Should ye not be out somewhere sticking yer sword in a straw dummy?” The double entendre was meant to annoy him as he was currently embroiled in a situation with two women, both of whom were demanding his attention. It was not the first time.

  Their father had become too lenient as his illness progressed. Evander should be married and settled by now, but he had managed to talk their father out of ordering him to do so.

  “What is on yer mind daughter?” her father asked when the council finally took a break from the discussion.

  She leaned into his ear. “May I remain here with ye and not go with Mother and Beatrice to visit Clan Ross?” She didn’t give him an opportunity to reply before continuing, “Ye will be left alone, and I should be here to keep ye company.”

  “Aye, ye should,” he said with a teasing grin. “However, yer mother told me that if ye came to me, I should remain firm in our decision that ye must go.”

  “It is Beatrice who will garner the new laird’s attention. One look upon her beauty and he will not hesitate to agree to marriage.”

  Laird Macdonald studied her for a long moment. “Do ye not have a looking glass Isobel? Yes, yer sister is quite bonnie, but ye are as beautiful. It is not because of her looks that we present her for marriage.”

  “I know Father,” Isobel said, quick to reassure him. “I am not bitter about it. It is no one’s fault that I cannot be first choice.”

  Evander huffed, his two-colored eyes flashing angrily. “It certainly is someone’s fault, and that bastard is lucky to still be alive.” Her brother was a handsome younger version of their father. The main difference were Evander’s eyes. The right one brown like their father, the left hazel, like their mother. Despite the curious feature, it did not keep lasses of all ages from seeking a tumble with him. And he rarely turned them down. Which was one of the reasons he found himself in a tangle of two women demanding his attention.

  Not sure how much he’d overheard, Isobel turned to her brother. “Mother says either ye or Padraig will take care of Father while we are gone. I am trying to convince Father to allow me to remain. I know ye are both much too busy.”

  Her brother’s eyes narrowed, and he stroked his chin in thought. “Maura will stay behind, will she not?”

  The battle was lost. Isobel gave up trying to come up with another argument. She was to go
to South Uist, the home of a new laird she barely remembered.

  “I require yer help,” Beatrice said as soon as Isobel entered her sister’s room. Gowns, shifts, and other various articles of clothing were strewn everywhere. On the floor, next to the two trunks, sat Annis looking quite defeated.

  The room was bright because the balcony doors were open allowing sunlight to stream inside. Her sister’s blond hair was loose, framing her heart-shaped face with a riot of curls, making her look like a wild fae on a quest.

  “Whatever are ye doing?” Isobel asked lifting a gown from the floor and inspecting it for tears. “Ye must allow Annis to complete the packing. We leave first thing in the morning.”

  Her sister sank onto the bed and fell back, blending into the piles of clothing. “I do not wish to go. I do not wish to marry the ogre.”

  “Why do ye say that?” Isobel neared the bed, lifted a pile of clothes and placed them atop one of the trunks. She nodded at Annis, signaling that the servant should pack them.

  Immediately, Beatrice began to cry. “Because he is terrifying. Ye did not go with Mother and me last time we visited. Ye should have seen him, he is like a wild beast. Huge and overwhelming.”

  Isobel did her best to imagine the slender blond young man she’d met years earlier and could not fathom he would have changed so much.

  “Darach was quite kind to us when he visited last. He whittled a horse and gifted it to me.”

  Beatrice sat up and glared, her beauty not marred by the expression. “That was over ten years ago Isobel. Ye have no idea how much he has changed. He is not the same person. His brothers are just as beastly. They are all huge and bulky.”

  “Evander is huge and bulky,” Isobel said softly. “He is not scary.”

  “Yes he is,” Beatrice insisted, her blue eyes glistening. “Not to us because we are used to him, but to others, they find him quite intimidating.”

  Thinking back to the last visit by Lady Ross, the sons who’d accompanied her, Stuart and Gideon, had been large men, who’d gotten along well with Evander and Padraig. She’d not had any opportunity to spend time with either one, as they’d kept their distance from her and Beatrice.