The Beast by Hildie McQueen

Chapter Seven

Lady Mariel waited for the maid to leave the sitting room before speaking. Beatrice almost told her not to by the pain etched on her face.

“This is a story every mother hopes never to have to tell,” she began. “To know the horrors my son suffered can never stop hurting my heart.”

Isobel leaned to the woman and took her hand. “Ye do not have to tell us. If it is something so horrible that it keeps Duncan from marriage, yer word is enough.”

“I agree,” Beatrice added. “We can find another solution to the situation. Even if it comes to me having to marry another of yer sons. Although I do wish to make clear, is not the option I prefer.”

Her lips curved as Lady Mariel met Beatrice’s gaze. “Ye would make a fine wife for Duncan. But he is damaged and fears intimacy.”

After a moment, she began to talk.

The grey skies did not promise an easy voyage and Duncan looked to his father, expecting him to call off the trip. He dared not say anything, else be backhanded in front of the others present.

They were to go to the shore of Skye to meet with a ship. According to his father, there was to be a valuable shipment and he would be one of the first to purchase items that would be resold for a fortune.

Two men had come in the cloak of darkness to inform his father about it, and now they were set to go and meet the captain of the ship.

Once onboard the bìrlinn, the sea tossed it this way and that. The vessel tipping so far sideways, Duncan was sure he’d fall into the deep water.

His father ignored him the entire time, excitedly speaking to the men about the purchase. With only four guards, Duncan wondered about the wisdom of going so far with virtual strangers.

By the time they arrived ashore it was hours later, and Duncan was so exhausted he could barely stand.

“Come along,” his father said grabbing him by the nape. “Do not dawdle. I brought ye to learn the ways of commerce. As second born, ye must have a trade. Do not make me regret it.”

Silently, he followed his father along the planks of the seaside village until they met with yet another set of men.

Duncan listened as his father argued prices and the amount he was willing to purchase at said price. It came to a point during an argument that the guards had to intercede to keep the men from hitting Laird Ross.

Finally, an agreement was reached, and they were escorted to a nondescript house. Once inside there were piles of goods spread out in the large main room.

His father’s eyes grew wide, and Duncan recognized the look of greed. Often his father had the same look upon seeing a woman he’d not noticed before, or when looking to acquire a new horse for the stables.

This time, however, the look was more intense.

“How much for that?” He pointed to neatly stacked fabrics. “I have never seen such colors.”

If not for the unsettling appearance of the sellers, Duncan would have laughed at the thought of his father selling merchandise, like a common peddler.

“They are not for sale,” a man replied. “They are already sold.”

“What of that?” His father then pointed to sacks. “What is it?”

“Sugar,” the same man said.

“I will take it.”

They began to haggle. The entire trip was to Duncan a waste of time. His father would purchase the costly items and probably not resell them but keep them for himself. Not that Duncan cared one way or the other. He was not learning anything.

His father and the merchant both turned to him at the same time. There seemed to be some sort of silent communication. Instantly, Duncan felt ill at ease and took a step toward the door.

Just then the pressure of a hand on his shoulder made him turn. One of the vendors motioned for him to follow. “We have other items for sale. Ye may wish to purchase one before yer father does.”

When he turned to his father, he waved him away. The expression of greed now joined with a curve of lips.

He walked behind the man until reaching a room. The man pushed the curtains aside and shoved Duncan through the doorway and then came to stand next to him. “Yer choice. Yer father agreed to pay.”

Women lay on pillows. Most of them barely dressed. Each of them took him in and Duncan felt himself shrink back. Women would not find a lanky boy of ten and four to be enticing, much less wish to lay with him.

He knew about this kind of purchase as his brother Darach and his friends often spoke about it. But he’d never seen it.

“I do not wish to purchase anything,” he said and turned on his heel.

Just outside the doorway, two large men stood with arms crossed. The man who’d shown Duncan the room shrank back. “What do ye want?”

“Ye are payment for very exclusive merchandise.”

There was an awkward silence, one of them holding Duncan by the arm. “Ye will come with us.”

“M-my father has much coin. He is in the other room making large purchases. Allow me to return to him . . .”

One of the men huffed and continued to block the way out. “Ye should take advantage of what is presented. It may be the last time ye will have the opportunity.”

Just then the doors opened and the merchant who’d been haggling with his father appeared. He looked Duncan over.

“I am sure he will fetch a fair price.”

As Duncan went to scream for his father, one of the men who held hit him in the stomach. The large fist taking all his breath.

The merchant narrowed his eyes at Duncan. “Take him out the back. Keep him silent, so as not to scare away other customers.”

While being dragged out, Duncan struggled with all his might. Kicking, biting, and swinging his fists.

“Enough,” one of the men said and punched him so hard, he could barely see for a few moments. The second hit sent him into darkness.

Upon coming to, the swaying of the ship and the smell of rotten fish turned Duncan’s stomach. He was somewhere in the bowels of a large vessel. By the swaying, it was obvious they were not stationary, but moving at a fast speed.

Scrambling to his feet, he raced to the ladder and climbed up. On deck were several men, including one who’d been at the merchant’s. The man turned to him, but then promptly ignored Duncan.

“Why am I here?” Duncan asked the man. “I wish to return home.”

The man gave him an icy glare. “Ye are home.”

Beatrice sat back. “He was taken at ten and four? How long was he gone?”

“Duncan was gone for ten years.” Lady Mariel sighed. “He returned broken and hollow. For a long time, barely speaking. Not used to large open spaces, he spent many days in a small bedchamber, only venturing out for short periods. It took years before he was able to have a somewhat normal life.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and Beatrice allowed them to overflow down her cheeks. “I cannot fathom what happened to him all those years.”

“He has told us a few of the experiences he went through. Many of them I cannot repeat. However, I will tell ye that he was tied to a post and whipped for simple misdeeds and left without food and water for days. As a result, my son has internal scars that may never heal.”

Beatrice’s heart broke for Duncan. She wished nothing more than to go to him and give him comfort. Although, he would probably not welcome it.

Her sister hugged Lady Mariel. “We should discuss Beatrice’s situation more. There is time. Mother will not arrive anytime soon. Hopefully, we can come to a solution.”

“I am going to rest. We should expect a lively last meal as the people wish to welcome Darach back,” Lady Mariel said as she stood. Her warm gaze met Beatrice’s “Do not worry yerself overly about this. It is not as bad as it seems.”

Left with her sister, Beatrice became animated. “Surely ye do not think I should have to marry. I do not wish to anger our parents further. Being married when Mother arrives will send her to madness. I am sure she is already furious at my staying here longer.”

“What explanation did ye give?”

Beatrice sucked in air. She’d forgotten about the excuse. “I told her I was being courted.”

“By whom?” Isobel closed her eyes for a moment and opened them slowly. “I hope ye did not say Duncan.”

When Beatrice didn’t reply, her sister blew out a breath. “Beatrice, ye wish to be taken seriously. Ye claim to be mature, but yer actions are not those of someone who considers the consequences of their actions.”

“Being impetuous does not make me immature,” Beatrice shot back. “I admit to making mistakes and am doing what I can to come up with a way to not have to marry and not anger our parents at the same time. If ye would stop scolding and help, I am sure we can come up with a perfect solution.”

“There is no other solution than for ye to marry. If not Duncan, then another of the brothers. Although displeased that ye do not marry a MacLeod, Mother at least will be pleased at a furthering of our attachment with Clan Ross. I am sure eventually she and Lady Mariel will be very glad for it.”

It was left unsaid that Evander and their father would not be as thrilled. They needed a strong bond with the MacLeod. The man had two sons and one daughter, who was to be married off to another clan.

“Do ye wonder how clans would become united without marrying off their offspring?” Beatrice said while tapping a finger to her chin. “If ye ask me, they should not involve us. They should trade cattle or something.”

“Beatrice, this is a very serious situation, we have to consider that we’d rather ye marry another of the Ross brothers than be forced into a life with a damaged man.”

The word made her cringe. “Duncan is not damaged. That is a horrible thing to say.” Beatrice blew out a breath. “Allow me a day, or two to consider things. I would like to speak to Stuart. I’d rather marry him than Caelan, mainly because he lives with Duncan and that would be… awkward.”

“Very well,” Isobel replied and stood. Beatrice was glad when she left, and she was allowed time alone again.

There was a solution they’d not considered. She could travel back to North Uist immediately. Her family would not hear about any rumors if they remained there. With her back, her mother would have no reason to come there for a few months.

At the thought of leaving and not seeing Duncan again, she became sad. In truth, she was very attracted to him and despite Lady Mariel’s revelations, Beatrice felt a kinship with him. Interesting since she’d never suffered any type of injustice and lived what one could call a sheltered life. However, something deep within called to him and she could only suppose it was that with him, she felt safe.

He’d kissed her. Perhaps it had been an impulse. Obviously, he’d been very shocked by his actions. Had he done to soothe her feelings and then realized it had the opposite effect? Whatever the reason, she wished it had lasted more than a second. In truth, it barely counted as a kiss.

Beatrice huffed and looked toward the window. How hard would it be to get him to kiss her again? Not because she wanted to force him into another awkward situation, but because the short interlude made her curious to know what his kisses would be like.

First, she packed all her clothes, and upon Orla entering, she instructed the maid to finish. “I will see about returning home in the morning. Ye should pack yer belongings as well.”

“Does Lady Ross know?” Orla said referring to Isobel.

“Not yet, I will inform her as soon as she is rested. I do not wish to disturb her right now.”

Once the packing was done, Beatrice went to find Ella.

She found her outside in the side garden looking off into the distance.

“What are ye doing looking so forlorn?” Beatrice asked.

“Do ye ever wonder what else there is to life?” Ella replied, her gaze still off into the distance. “I find myself growing weary of the same thing, day in and day out.”

Beatrice took Ella’s hand. “Come with me to North Uist. I have a grand idea. If I return immediately, my family will not learn of what happened. No knowledge, no forced marriage.”

For a long moment, Ella studied her. “I agree. It is a grand idea. We must tell Mother at once.”

“Allow them to rest. There is time. However, I do wish for ye to come with me. It will give ye opportunity to get away for a bit and to see different dull views.”

Ella burst into laughter. “Ye are a delight, Beatrice. I would very much love to travel with ye. There is nothing holding me here, if I am to be honest. A season away would be nice.”

Lady Mariel frowned,turning from Ella to Beatrice. “The idea has merit. Although I hate to keep anything away from yer mother,” she said pinning Beatrice with a pointed look.

“If ye do not come with us, then any blame will lay with me for not informing her,” Ella said. “Mother, we cannot force either Beatrice or Stuart to marry because of a weather mishap.”

“I will speak to Darach. If he agrees then ye both can travel immediately.” Lady Mariel let out a sigh and gave Beatrice a warm look. “If Duncan could marry, ye would be a perfect match for him.”

Her chest constricted at the thought of marriage to Duncan. He was so very perfect in every way. In her opinion at least.

“I would not protest to marrying him,” Beatrice replied.

An astonished expression crossed both Lady Mariel and Ella’s faces. Ella recovered first. “Ye really do care for him. That is so very endearing.”

“He will be here tomorrow. Ye can inform him of yer departure,” Lady Mariel told her with a warm smile. “I am sure he would like to know.”

Last meal wasas expected. The great hall was filled with village people who came to see their laird and lady, and to partake of the feast. Musicians played lively tunes and people danced after they’d ate their fill.

Beatrice and Ella sat at a table with a visiting landowner and his wife. Despite her situation, Beatrice was enjoying the evening. More than anything, she loved seeing her sister seated at the high board stealing glances at her handsome husband.

The laird did the same, ever so often touching Isobel’s hand or leaning into her ear to whisper. Her heart ached when considering she wanted the same—a love match.

However, it seemed it would not be her lot in life. Instead, she hoped to learn to care for the man her parents matched her with.

“Look,” Ella whispered into her ear. “Duncan is here.”

Across the room, Duncan walked along the perimeter of the room and sat at a table in a corner. A moment later, Stuart and Gideon joined him.

“I wonder why my brother returned so soon. He just left earlier.”

Beatrice shrugged. “Perhaps he forgot something.”

“It could be,” Ella studied her brothers for a moment. “I have to know.” She stood and hurried over to where her brothers were.

“I hear North Uist is beautiful this time of year,” the woman at the table, whose name she’d forgotten, said.

Beatrice smiled. “It is. However, not as warm as it is here.” She slid another look at the corner. The siblings continued talking, but it seemed not to be anything serious.

Finally, Ella returned. “He got word of a shipment and will be traveling north in two days. I informed him that ye and I wish to go.”

“Oh,” Beatrice looked back to where Duncan sat, “do ye think that is a good idea?”

“He will not be going to yer home. We will be traveling there alone with an escort of course.”

Hopefully, it would not turn into yet another complication. Beatrice nodded and looked to her sister. “I must speak to Isobel.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duncan slip out a doorway. Without a word, she stood and pretending interest in the dancers, slowly made her way out the same door.

Duncan stood with his back to the house. He peered up at the sky, his stance relaxed.

“I must speak to ye,” Beatrice whispered and walked closer until she stood beside him.

“What about?” Duncan replied, not looking at her.

“I-I am not sure how to express my regret for all of this.”

When he turned to face her, she felt small and insignificant. He was so beautiful under the moonlight. The dark waves of his loosed hair framed his strong face and his two-toned eyes flashed with something that she could not identify.

He took a step closer, and Beatrice considered if she should turn and flee. It was not what she wanted to do, she wished to stand her ground and be closer to him.

“Beatrice, ye should go back inside,” he said, his face just a breath away.

“And if I do not?” she replied breathlessly.

When his mouth covered hers, every ounce of her body filled with joy. Beatrice clung to his shoulders, kissing him back.

His arms surrounded her as the kiss intensified. He tilted his head, to deepen the kiss, their tongues entwining. She’d never been so thoroughly kissed and never had her body responded in the way it did in that moment.

Tingles ran down her arms and legs and she wanted to wrap herself around him.

Not wishing him to move away, Beatrice threaded her arms around his neck, not letting go when he broke the kiss. Instead of releasing him, she nuzzled her face into his neck pressing her lips to the pulse there.

Duncan moaned softly and ran his hands up and down her sides. Then he took her mouth again, this time lifting her off her feet. It was as if she floated in the air, only the night air and stars witnesses to the first time she’d felt so utterly undone.

The feel of his mouth on hers, his strong arms around her body, and the scent of him were intoxicating. She never wished it to stop.

“We must stop,” he finally said in a ragged voice and lowered her to the ground. Her knees barely held her up, so Beatrice leaned on him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“That was wonderful,” she said smiling up at him. “We should do it again.”

For the first time since meeting him, his lips curved, and he shook his head. “Ye are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

“I will take it as a compliment.”

“Go back inside, ye will be missed.” He tried to dislodge her arms from around his waist. “Beatrice.”

She looked at him. “Ye wish to marry me. I know it.”

A frown marred his brow. “Go inside.”

“Kiss me again and I will.”

There was warmth in his gaze. “Ye are a vixen. Quite hard to resist.” Their mouths met with a sense of desperation, the knowledge that it was in all probability the last time they would be alone.

Beatrice couldn’t help the moan that escaped, and she raked her fingers through his hair pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed against each other’s; she could not fathom another man feeling so perfect. He was so very strong. Moving his lips along hers, Duncan traced kisses to her jaw and down the side of her neck while she clung to him lost in the wonderful sensations.

“This is certainly not what I expected to walk out to,” Lady Mariel exclaimed.

With a gasp, Beatrice pushed away from Duncan. She swayed and he steadied her.

“We were just…talking,” Beatrice said pushing Duncan’s hands away. “Is that not true?” She peered up at Duncan, who fought to keep his breathing controlled.

The door opened and Darach stepped through. His keen gaze locked first with Duncan and then moved to Beatrice, locking on her swollen lips.

“Ye will marry her,” he said then turned on his heel and went back inside.

Beatrice didn’t dare look at Duncan. Looking to Lady Mariel, she let out a breath. “May I have a word with Duncan. I promise to come inside promptly.”

Duncan’s mother looked to her son for a long moment. “I will be right inside. Hurry.”

When she left, Duncan remained still as a statue, looking in the direction of the door. “I am sorry.”

“Listen,” Beatrice said tugging at his sleeve. “When ye travel in two days. Take me back to North Uist. My family will not know anything about what happened.”

“My brother will insist we marry immediately. I know him.”

“Oh.” Beatrice scrambled to come up with another plan.

Duncan took her by the arms and waited for her to look at him. “I will marry ye and ye will remain here at the keep, with my family.”

“What?” Beatrice shook her head. “We are to live separately?”

“It is for the best.” He rounded her and walked toward the courtyard.

When she went inside, Lady Mariel was standing in the doorway, prepared to go out.

Beatrice gave her an apologetic look. “Every time I try to fix things, I only make them worse. Now he hates me.”

“I am sure he felt quite the opposite,” Lady Mariel said hugging Beatrice. “Now tell me what he said.”

“That once we marry, I will remain here, and he will continue to live at the other house.”

“We will see about that.” Lady Mariel lifted Beatrice’s chin. “Come, I am sure yer sister wishes to speak to ye.”

“This has been the longest day,” Beatrice said sagging. “I want to go to bed and begin the day anew.”