The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1) - Hildie McQueen (best novels to read in english .TXT) 📗
- Author: Hildie McQueen
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She nodded without speaking.
Walking closer, he pulled her arm turning her to him. “Isobel when I vowed to be forever faithful and loyal to ye, I meant it. Ye never have to question it. Do not ever feel as if ye cannot come to me and question what I do and where I am at all times.”
“I am not sure I’m able to discuss this right now. What burdens me…” Isobel sniffed and tried to turn away, but Darach pulled her closer.
She leaned wearily against his chest. “If that bairn is yers, yer first child will be with her.”
“I doubt it is mine. I never…finished inside her.”
Her eyes lifted to his, they were hopeful and wary. “Can ye do that?”
Her innocence was endearing. “Aye, I can. Although not a certainty, it is a good way to keep from unwanted consequences.”
When she let out a sigh and leaned against his chest, it was as if a burden lifted from his shoulders. “Thank God. I do hope it worked then.”
“As do I. Mother is sending a midwife to see about what Lilia claims. I have not laid with her since before ye came to visit…”
“I saw her coming from yer bedchamber, just before the festival.” Isobel looked up at him. “She was in her nightclothes.”
He shook his head. “She may have been skulking about. Trying to spy on us. I do not know why else she would be about.”
The days passed swiftly and soon it came time for Darach to depart and head north to meet with the Uisdein. Although not a reassuring welcome, the man had sent back a message stating his visit was expected.
The trek to Uisdein was just over a day, travel was over land until arriving at the northern shores of South Uist. From there they would be transported across by ships that were sturdy enough to include the horses.
Upon arriving, Darach and his ten guards were allowed past the gates into the courtyard. It had been a long time since he’d been there, only once had he accompanied his father, who’d traveled there several times, but never brought him or his brothers along.
From the entrance to his home, Laird Uisdein greeted him, along with who he assumed were councilmen.
Once in the great hall, he was invited to sit at a table that had been prepared for him. There were platters of food and pitchers filled to the rim with ale. Breads and cheese trays were placed on each end of the table along with plates of fruit.
“Welcome, young Laird,” The Uisdein said, his words not exactly warm. The man was quite a bit older than him, with red hair, bushy brows, and cold assessing blue eyes. By his girth, he seemed to enjoy food and rest quite a bit. The man’s round stomach protruded so much he seemed to lean back when standing and walking.
“Thank ye for yer hospitality,” Darach replied sitting, but not touching anything on the table. He caught several of the men, exchanging conspirator glances, which gave him pause.
“My men will remain outside the gates. They bring their own provisions.” Darach had instructed the men, not to venture from their horses and keep his close as well.
“Of course,” the laird said motioning a servant nearby. “I assure ye, we can house them and their steeds.”
“They will sleep in the field just outside the gates,” Darach said. “We do not wish to burden ye with having to house us and our steeds as this will not be a long visit.”
If the man was insulted at his refusal of hospitality, he did not show it. “Very well.”
Once everyone sat, the Uisdein met his gaze. “Yer father and I had come to several agreements that he and ye have not held to.”
The man did not waste time and in a way, Darach was glad for it. He was not in the mood to play political games. “I am not aware of any agreements. Father did not tell me, or the council about it.”
“Then allow me to enlighten ye,” the man said with a scowl. “Yer father agreed to provide a hundred men. We were to fight against the Macdonald and overtake them. It seems interesting to me that ye married one as soon as yer father died.”
Darach slid a look to the door, two guards stood in front of it. On the opposite side of the room, another pair of guards blocked that exit.
“As I said, I was not aware of any kind of agreements. Ye ended my brother’s betrothal with yer daughter without explanation. Ye sent messengers back without any word.”
The Uisdein shifted in his seat, his narrowed eyes moving from the food to Darach. “Do ye reject the offerings?” The man motioned to a servant who poured ale into everyone’s goblet.
Only after the man next to him drank did Darach. The motion did not go unnoticed by the Uisdein who sneered.
“If ye and Father were to overtake the Macdonald, what would my father have to gain from it? Yer lands border theirs, we are further south.”
When the man chuckled, it was as if he considered Darach to be too daft to understand. “Rights to an entire Isle. Rich fishing, hunting, and plenty of access further north.”
Once the man spoke, Darach knew that unless he swore alliance, he would not leave with the knowledge of what the Uisdein planned to do.
With the four guards by the doors and the six men at the table, it would be impossible for him to get away. Four men, he could fight and perhaps have a chance, but ten was too many.
“I do not agree with what ye plan. My marriage to a Macdonald has nothing to do with any of yer plotting.”
“Yer father was a traitor. Or perhaps the marriage was part of the plan. Since he fell ill and his messenger never came, we will never know.”
Darach’s gut tightened.
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