The Beast by Hildie McQueen

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 the 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.

She was flushed from the ride, her cheeks bright pink and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she took in the surroundings.

“Yer sister told me ye would be here because ye rarely go anywhere. So, I took a chance to come and speak to ye. Now that I consider it, I should have asked for an escort. However, everyone is so busy at the keep. I hate to be a bother…” She stopped talking and met his gaze.

“I am interrupting yer meal. Please sit. Eat. I already ate before leaving.”

In truth he was hungry, so after motioning for Beatrice to sit, he poured more ale for her and lowered to his chair.

“What brings ye here?” he asked and began to eat again.

Beatrice let out a long sigh. “First of all, I wish to apologize to ye for writing to Mother and stating ye were courting me.”

“Why did ye?”

Seeming to realize that perhaps her hair was out of place, she brushed her hands over the strands, attempting to smooth them. “I had to come up with an excuse to remain longer. It was the only thing that occurred to me.”

“Why me?”

The question seemed to surprise Beatrice, her brows lowering as she considered how to reply. “Ye are never at the keep and I figured Mother would find ye too intimidating to question.”

Duncan gave her a dubious look. “Ye do not seem to have any hesitance to approach me.”

Lifting the cup and holding it with both hands, it was as if she tried to hide her expression from him. “I do. In a way find ye a bit… unapproachable.”

“I see.”

When he continued eating in silence, Duncan could feel her studying him. He had to admit it was a bit enjoyable to keep the mischievous lass wondering what he’d say next. “Yer mother asked my intentions.”

Duncan met her wide gaze, purposely not saying anything else. Her plump lips parted while she waited for him to continue.

“I told her ye were someone I’d be proud to court.”

“What?” Beatrice leaned forward. “She believed it then?”

“I could not very well tell yer mother, ye were lying.”

Her bottom lip disappeared when she bit it. “Oh, dear. Thank ye. Again, I apologize.”

Duncan nodded. “Now we must discuss how ye will return to Dún Láidir. Ye cannot go alone, and I do not have time to take ye.”

“I do not require an escort. I am an able rider. I will ride there directly. Do not bother yerself.”

The only plans he had was to work on the wall at the back of the property. Lifting and stacking the heavy stones not only kept him fit and strong, but also seemed to keep his mind away from dark things.

Not in the mood to travel to Keep Ross, he wondered if he should ask the stableman to escort Beatrice back.

“Would ye mind showing me about?” Beatrice asked. “This is a most beautiful home.”

If the minx was up to something, he did not detect it. She seemed genuinely interested in the house.

“Of course,” he said pushing his empty plate away.

They walked side-by-side from the main hall to the opposite side, where he showed her Caelan’s study and across the hall, a small parlor. Just down the corridor was two small bedchambers that were rarely used.

Next, he guided her up a stairwell where his and Caelan’s bedchambers were as well as a large room that their mother used when visiting. There was another guest room and a small chamber that could be used as a sitting room. Currently, there were only a pair of chairs in there.

Beatrice went to a window and peered out. “I find it interesting that ye do not live with a view of the sea. I do adore the views from the keep.”

It was best for him to not have such a view. The memories of time at sea were not ones he cherished. Unfortunately, many times his family business forced him to travel to other Isles, which meant going by bìrlinn. If he had his way, he would remain landside.

“I prefer the view of forests and land.”

Beatrice turned from the window and looked at a painting on the wall. It was a small depiction of a field. “Who did this? It is beautiful.”

“My mother.”

A wide smile spread over her pretty face almost making him smile in return. “I was not aware she was so talented.”

He looked at the painting, seeing it through her eyes. Flowers grew wildly in a field that had a cusp of trees in the distance. In the sky a pair of birds flew across the expanse, giving the illusion of unending space.

“Would ye like to see the outdoors?”

“I would,” Beatrice replied, tearing her eyes away from the painting.

He led her down the stairs and out the side door by the kitchens.

Gara and Firtha straightened, from their gardening, with shocked looks when seeing him with Beatrice. The housekeeper jumped to her feet and rushed to them. “I apologize Mister Duncan. I wasn’t aware there was a visitor. I will brew some tea…”

“Do not worry yerself,” Beatrice said with a soft smile. “I have already partaken of Mister Duncan’s ale.”

The housekeeper looked to Duncan. “Would ye like me to prepare a meal?”

“No, we are going for a short walk and then Miss Beatrice is leaving,” he replied.

The women remained still as statues, watching them as they walked away.

“Ye only have two servants?” Beatrice asked.

“There are two more. Creagh, a man who looks after the horses, and sometimes a lad comes and helps him.”

She looked up at him with curiosity. “I suppose ye and Caelan do not require much then?”

“My brother would have a much larger staff, if given the choice. However, he agrees with me that we do not have a need for so many people about.”

Duncan had to admit to feeling at ease as he walked Beatrice around the sides and back of the house to show her the land. Something about her was different than other women. She didn’t seem to want anything from him other than company. Her curiosity was genuine as she gazed across the area, leaning forward, and rising to her toes, she pointed to the wall he’d been working on for over a year.

“Why is there a partial wall there?” She looked up to him, her clear gaze seeming to see much deeper than he would prefer.

Uneven, some portions higher than others, the wall was not exactly a work of art. If anything, it was an eyesore, with its haphazard shape and piles of stones around it.

“I work on it for exercise. To keep in shape for the games. As ye may have seen, I compete in the caber toss and stone throw.”

Intelligent eyes scanned his face for a moment and then she turned to the wall. “I see. Ye should at least make it look somewhat straight. It is visible from the house is it not?”

He almost laughed. Only a woman would care how a stone wall looked. Especially one that did not serve any true purpose.

“I may actually move it to over there,” he pointed to an area to the left. “Use the stones to wall in the space so it can be an enclosed garden.”

Beatrice shrugged. “I suppose if ye use it for training, then it matters not where ye build it.” Moving away, she turned back to the house. “It is a pity ye do not have a larger staff and entertain. The house is beautiful. The land flat and perfect for a gathering.”

A shudder ran through him at the thought of having groups of people about. Even before he’d become reclusive, he’d never been one for crowds. As a lad, he’d been shy and not as boisterous as his brothers.

“Ye are not one for company are ye?” Beatrice asked. “Some people prefer solitude. Although I have a hard time understanding it, I accept that not everyone wants the company of others.”

She then looked up to the sky. “Goodness, I best be heading back. Clouds are gathering and I do not wish to be caught in a storm.”

“I will escort ye back,” Duncan said not quite happy about going back to the keep. He’d be forced to remain the night by the way the clouds were gathering.

“Ye will not. I have already put ye out. I assure ye to be fine. I will ride fast and be back at the keep before very long.” Beatrice lifted her skirts and hurried back toward the house, every so often looking up at the sky.

He followed walking slower and wondering why she found it necessary to come in the first place. He’d told Stuart to inform her he’d come there so they could speak prior to her mother coming and demanding he marry her.

Had they even come up with a plan? He couldn’t remember much as he studied the woman in front of him. She was beautiful. In all probability the loveliest creature he’d ever seen.

It only took a few moments to saddle his horse and by the time Beatrice emerged from the house with her cloak on, he waited for her.

Her eyes widened. “I keep telling myself to stop being so impulsive, but then I do something without thinking it through. Now I am infringing on yer time.”

“We have not discussed what we will do when yer mother comes,” Duncan said as he took her by the waist and lifted the woman to her horse. It was hard to ignore the feel of her body under his hands and the soft fragrance from her clothing as she arranged herself atop the horse.

Once he mounted, they began riding toward his family home. With each moment that passed, the clouds became darker and soon he realized they would not be able to outride the storm.

There were two options: attempt to ride through a downpour; or find shelter.

Duncan looked to Beatrice, who gave him a worried look. “There is a place just over the bend where we can find shelter from the rain. Hopefully, it will not last too long.”

They rode to an abandoned place that had often been used by men to gather or hide. He prayed there was nothing too unfavorable in the place when they entered.

The skies rumbled and as soon as they reached the empty building, a downpour began.