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end and servants rushed in to fill goblets it seemed as if most of them had finished eating.

“I apologize for my lateness,” Darach said while looking around the table. “I became lost in my work.”

When he looked at Beatrice, the lass seemed to shrink back. It was hard to keep from looking up at the ceiling with annoyance. It was obvious the wee lass found him either intimidating or unlikable. Probably both.

“How fare ye today, Miss Beatrice?” he asked her.

“Well, aye. Well.” She gave her sister a pointed look, so he turned to Isobel.

“Have ye found enough to keep ye busy, Miss Isobel?” Darach asked, expecting to get the same reply as her sister’s.

Isobel nodded, and her face brightened. “Today I went out to sketch. I too lost track of time, sketching the scenery. Although my reason cannot possibly compare to yers, I understand how it happens.”

“What did ye sketch?”

“Well, I did the view of the road that I presume goes toward the village. It is quite lovely, with the forest on one side, the sea on the other.”

“Indeed.”

He had to admit to enjoying conversations with Isobel Macdonald. Her keen intellect was as interesting as her fiery retorts when she was angry with him.

“Have ye spent time with any of my brothers?” he asked, genuinely curious. Perhaps she’d piqued Stuart’s interest. His brother needed to find another woman, as it was obvious his betrothal to the Uisdein lass had been permanently ended.

Isobel considered his reply for a moment and then looked to Ewan. “Yer brother Ewan, his wife Catriona, and I went for a walk by the seashore.”

“We did. It was enjoyable,” Catriona said.

Darach wondered how Ewan had managed time away for something as leisurely as a walk. As far as he knew, the only time they’d broken from the barrage of visitors was when he’d stormed outside angry, after Cairn had contradicted him in front of a villager.

During his walk outside, he’d not seen anyone walking along the seashore. Then again, he’d been concentrating on playing with Albie, who always managed to alleviate his bad moods.

“Perhaps we can go for a walk after this meal? A bit a fresh air before ye return to work.” Isobel’s request shocked him. He was fairly sure she did not like him, that she asked him to spend time was interesting. Then he realized, she probably did it to keep him from her sister.

At the other end of the table, his mother bore holes into him. Obviously, she’d heard the request.

“I would like that very much,” he replied.

Isobel gave him an incredulous look and he chuckled. The lass was up to something. It could be that once again she would attempt to talk him out of marrying her sister.

“What about ye, Miss Beatrice? Would ye like to join us?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I find that I do not feel well. I hope not to have caught whatever Mother is ailing with.”

“Mother has a headache,” Isobel said with a droll look. “Ye should come for a walk, the fresh air will solve yer problem as well.”

The young lass paled and slid a look in his direction from under her lashes. “Stuart!” she exclaimed, much too loudly. “I am an avid reader, could ye help me find something in yer library?”

His brother turned from a conversation he was having with Ella. “Aye, of course.” Stuart grinned and began listing the different selections. Beatrice seemed not at all familiar with anything he mentioned.

“Are ye an avid reader as well, Laird?” Isobel asked him.

“I am, although admittedly, I have not read anything in a long time. I kept very busy helping Father with his ledgers and such.” It actually surprised him to note that he missed quiet evenings spent reading.

When the meal ended, he waited for Isobel to gather a wrap, then along with Albie, they walked out the side door of the home to the same place he’d gone to earlier that day.

The dog instantly raced away.

“He will return with a stick,” Darach said. “Usually, one that is much too large for him.”

Isobel smiled, her gaze following the dog’s meandering.

Without preamble, she went to the situation at hand. “My sister has no wish to marry ye, Laird. I must ask that ye consider not courting Beatrice. She is a delicate person, who would be better suited for a quiet life with someone less…”

“Of an ogre?”

“I am sorry for that,” she said her cheeks coloring. “It was rude of me.”

Darach shrugged. “I deserved it.”

When Albie emerged from the woods dragging a branch, Isobel burst into laughter. The sound of it flowing through the air. She pointed at Albie, who wagged his tail vigorously, unable to stop her mirth. “He…he is so funny,” she exclaimed between bouts of laughter. “So very adorable.”

That she liked the dog more than him bothered Darach. He grabbed the huge branch from Albie, broke off a smaller piece, and threw it. The dog raced off after it.

“Laird?” Isobel began, her gaze lifting to his. “Perhaps ye can inform yer mother that ye will not marry Beatrice. Surely ye do not wish to force marriage upon an unwilling woman.”

“Has she not told yer mother?”

Hitching her chin as if in challenge, once again she met his gaze. “Ye know very well that women have little say in who we marry. Besides, she is not yer type at all.”

It was too tempting not to tease her a bit. “What, pray tell, is my type Miss Isobel?”

They walked where they stepped down and he held his hand up for her to take. Isobel took his hand not seeming to take much notice. However, the feel of her soft skin, enfolded between his fingers definitely affected him. As soon as she stepped onto flatter ground, he released her hand and clasped his behind his back.

“I would say,” Isobel began. “That ye would need a strong woman, who is not intimidated by ye. Someone who yer brothers and yer mother would accept, of course.”

“Of course,” he said so she’d

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