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

the back of the bìrlinn, under a thick covering that was made to give privacy, Isobel held a journal on her lap, her fingers rubbing across the top of the leatherbound book as she peered out a side opening. Her home became smaller and smaller as they sailed away, and she prayed for her father and brothers that they remain safe.

Her mother met her gaze. “I am glad ye came. Too long ye have remained cloistered at the keep, rarely venturing farther than the walls.”

“I am happy with my simple way of life, Mother,” Isobel insisted. “Ye worry for naught. I promise to be content with my life.”

With a dubious look, her mother let out a sigh. “I believe that ye believe it, Isobel. However, ye used to hope for so much more. To travel and see other lands, to find beautiful places to sketch, and ye ached for a family.”

Angry words sprung to her lips and yet somehow Isobel managed to keep them from sprouting forth. “Everyone has the same desires. To experience, to explore, and to love. But not everyone will achieve them. It is the reality of life.”

“I wish to live in a beautiful home, married to a handsome young man, who indulges me,” Beatrice quipped. “I will inform Darach Ross of this upon meeting him.”

“Beatrice, ye must not say anything of that nature,” Lady Macdonald replied. “I forbid it. Ye must be amicable and hold only a light conversation.”

“How will that help them get to know one another if the only subject that is allowed will be the weather?” Isobel quipped. “I would certainly wish to know him better and see if we were compatible. It is important to know what his expectations are.”

“That comes in due course,” their mother replied while pinching the bridge of her nose. “I must rest. We shall speak about this more at another time.”

Beatrice and Isobel exchanged a knowing look. Their mother had hoped the subject would be dropped permanently.

“I have an idea,” Isobel told her sister, once she assessed that their mother was asleep.

“What is it?” Beatrice asked, with a curious expression.

“Since ye will not be allowed to ask Darach Ross direct questions, what if I do it for ye?”

Beatrice started to clap but stopped before her hands collided and looked to their mother. “I have a better idea,” she said, keeping her voice down in case their mother stirred. “Ye must tell Laird Ross that I have no desire to marry him. Or anyone else for that matter. Not as yet.”

It was doubtful there was anything Isobel could say to the man that would put him off marrying her beautiful sister. She certainly could not aspire to draw his attention away.

Today, Beatrice’s hair had been pulled back into a long braid. The braid was then wrapped about her head and pinned in place. Ribbons were added to stabilize it. Even a sea storm would have no effect on Beatrice’s hairstyle. Dressed in a dark blue velvet gown that brought out the blue of her eyes, she appeared to be royalty.

Isobel peered down at her plain muslin brown dress and knew she would instantly blend into the background when compared to her sister.

However, if he was to court Beatrice, the best she could do would be to ensure that Darach Ross was a good match for her.

The bìrlinn cut through the water easily, the sea was calm this day, and Isobel was grateful for it. Despite living by the sea, she preferred to travel over land. However, it wasn’t possible to go to another isle other than by bìrlinn.

Moments later everyone including Annis had fallen asleep, Isobel pulled a blanket over her companions and looked across the water to the second bìrlinn that accompanied them. On that one was mostly guardsmen and their trunks. She huffed annoyed that her chalks and sketchbook were packed. The view of the other vessel would have made for a nice rendering.

The sun was warm, the smell of the salty air and the breeze provided a perfect setting to lull one to sleep. But Isobel could not rest. Her mind kept going over what Beatrice has said, that Darach Ross had somehow morphed into a beastly angry man. They lived too far away to know much about the circumstances of what happened at Clan Ross. The late laird had left behind a powerful legacy. Their army was large, their lands vast, and from what she recalled, the keep where the family lived was enormous and quite beautiful.

She leaned against the side of the boat and gazed out to where the cloudless sky and the sea met. Perhaps one day she would find a way to travel, to see many things. If nothing else, this was an opportunity to explore new surroundings and become reacquainted with Ella, the youngest of the Ross siblings.

After all, Isobel had freedoms Beatrice did not. Since her parents were not in any particular hurry to marry her off, she could afford the luxury of enjoying her visit.

Chapter Three

From where Darach stood atop a hill, he could see far out to sea. In the distance, two bìrlinns came into view. He signaled with his arms letting those below know. Deciding to remain above the others, he wished to get a good look at the visitors before riding down to the shoreline.

Only Lady Macdonald and her two daughters were to arrive, along with eight or ten guardsmen and a servant. The Macdonald bìrlinns would return to North Uist after a day of rest, so the accompanying men would be hosted at the keep for two nights.

Despite what his mother said, this was more than a trip for two old friends to get together. The reason for the visit was for him to get to know Beatrice Macdonald and become betrothed. From what he remembered from her last visit, she was beautiful and somewhat fragile looking. The young woman had done her best to avoid him, and the one time they’d