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and eat,” Isobel said, pulling Annis forward by the arm. “Ye are as tired as we are. Come with me.”

Upon approaching the group, everyone walked inside. Darach stood beside a guardsman, who held the door open for them.

When Isobel looked to him, he met her gaze for only a beat. Her breath quickened at noting how very different he was. Beatrice had not exaggerated.

Darach had grown at least a head since she last saw him, and the span of his shoulders and chest must have doubled. His eyes were a color she couldn’t quite place. They seemed to go from green to blue. He looked between her and Annis and frowned but did not say anything.

Once in a large room, which she assumed was the great hall by its size, they walked to the front of the room where four men and one woman stood.

Lady Ross smiled at them and hurried to the line of people who waited. “It always lightens my heart to see all my children together,” she exclaimed.

“Her children are quite grown,” Annis mumbled, and Isobel pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Ella motioned to the men. “Isobel since ye have not seen my brothers in many years I will reintroduce ye.” She motioned to the first man. “This is my second eldest brother, Duncan.” She continued down the line. “This is Stuart, Ewan, and our youngest brother Gideon.” Each man nodded in acknowledgment in her direction.

Ella pulled a pretty woman forward. “This is Catriona, Ewan’s wife.”

Isobel smiled at the woman, liking her immediately.

“Do I not get introduced?” Darach grumbled walking to stand in front of his siblings, his gaze moved from her to Beatrice and finally to Annis.

Ella came to stand next to him, seeming to become shorter, “My brother and Laird Ross, Darach.”

“It is nice to see ye again. I still have the horse ye made me,” Isobel said.

When his gaze scanned over her, he did so in a cursory dismissive way. He then looked to Beatrice and her mother.

If he was comparing them, Isobel was sure he wondered how they could be sisters. In truth, they were so very different. Beatrice, a perfect delicate-looking creature; then her, a swan just before transforming.

“I am glad to hear it,” he finally responded. He didn’t look glad at all. If anything, he seemed bothered. Isobel and Annis took a step backward when he looked to them again.

He finally went to her mother and Beatrice. “Welcome to our home,” Darach said bowing over Beatrice’s hand, who visibly shook. Her eyes widened and she turned to Isobel as if asking for rescue. When he moved to their mother, Beatrice took a step away.

There was little Isobel could do for her sister at that moment. Especially when he invited everyone to eat and offered his arms to both Beatrice and her mother.

Catriona came up to her. “I know ye must be exhausted. We shall not linger over the meal and allow ye to plenty of time rest in yer bedchambers.”

“Thank ye,” Isobel said. “I am very tired, and also a bit hungry. I would appreciate the rest but expect Mother will remain up with Lady Ross visiting.”

Once in the dining room, everyone found a seat. Beatrice hurried to the opposite end of the table, away from Darach, and sat. Isobel looked side to side unsure where to sit.

“Sit next to me,” Catriona said, pulling her to the last chair on one side. Isobel wanted to groan out loud when Darach lowered to sit on her right.

“Isobel, ye have changed a great deal since I saw ye last,” he remarked. By the expression on his face, he did not mean it as a compliment. Actually, it was hard to tell how he meant it as he had a pretty blank look.

Doing her best to imitate him, she retorted, “Ye look quite different as well.”

Other than nod, he looked down the table to his mother.

Isobel couldn’t help but smile at seeing identical beaming expressions between her mother and Lady Ross.

“They are so happy when together,” Isobel said while still looking at them.

Catriona nodded. “Lady Ross has spoken of nothing else than the visit. She was anxious for her arrival.”

“They are childhood friends, who adore each other,” Isobel said. She did her best not to look to her right because she sensed Darach was studying her. A part of her wanted to speak to him, to begin the dialog that would hopefully take them to the point of her feeling comfortable enough to speak of Beatrice. However, at the moment she was tired and sure to look disheveled from the travel.

“Did ye have a smooth sail, Miss Isobel?” one of the brothers asked. She wasn’t quite sure of his name, but she guessed him to be Catriona’s husband Ewan by the way he looked at the pretty woman.

“It was quite comfortable. The seas cooperated perfectly. My only complaint was that I left my sketchbook and chalks in my trunk, so I could not capture the scenery.”

“Remarkable,” Catriona said. “Perhaps ye can sketch our bairn.” She smiled at the man across from her. Isobel had guessed right. He was Ewan, the fourth born brother.

Unable to keep from it, she slid a glance to the silent man beside her. He was certainly handsome and would make a good subject for a sketch. Every line of his face strong and prominent, from the square jawline to his slender nose. The shape of his mouth, surely it looked better when his lips were not pressed together so tightly.

Isobel fought to keep from looking at his eyes and realized she’d been studying him, while he glared at her. “Do ye have any hobbies, Laird?”

His brows lowered further. “I do not.”

Biting her lower lip to keep from telling him he was not good company, Isobel turned away. She had absolutely no reason to mind her manners or try to befriend the angry man. Each of the brothers, to a certain degree, could be seen as intimidating. Each of

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