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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“Do ye think she will be forgiving?” Duncan asked, sitting. “Ye must know her enough to discern.”
“I have not been married to her long enough to be able to assume anything about my wife. She is kind, but this has wounded her deeply.”
“All ye can do is wait and do as Mother says.” Duncan changed the subject. “Darach, I am returning to my home after last meal tomorrow. I will spend a day there to prepare for travel and hope to head to North Uist by mid-day the day after.”
On his desk, two letters were already written. “Come and fetch the missives before leaving. One is for the Macdonald, the other is for the ship captain that ye are meeting. Ensure he is aware we are to be the only investors in his shipment and should be informed immediately upon his return.”
“I will,” Duncan replied. “One more thing. Yer wife’s sister does not wish to leave. She is sending a letter to her parents requesting to remain longer. Wants to be here for yer wife.”
“I am not surprised.”
“I am sure this will resolve itself over time. For now, be on yer best behavior, brother.”
Trudging up the stairs, Darach did not look forward to sleeping in his empty bed again. However, it was too soon to ask for Isobel’s company.
When arriving at his door, he looked to his wife’s and took a step toward it. And then another.
Chapter Twenty
Isobel tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Her mind raced over the events of the last few days. So much had changed between her and Darach, while at the same time everything else remained the same.
There were tasks to see to. After all, the keep would not run itself, and Lady Mariel had begun the process of handing more responsibilities to her. Starting the next day, she would no longer hide in her room.
She had nothing to be ashamed of.
If her husband was unfaithful and disloyal, it was he who should be embarrassed by his actions and lack of propriety.
It didn’t matter that her heart was broken, or that sadness filled her. One day it would become normalcy. There was only one way to continue. With dignity and bravery. If Lady Mariel had shown her anything, it was to turn one’s focus elsewhere. To pursuits that gave satisfaction and joy.
She considered the beautiful art items that Darach had purchased. She would have to ask the peddler to purchase duplicates. It would be too much of a reminder of what he did, to use the ones he’d bought.
Turning to her other side, Isobel closed her eyes and tried to calm her thoughts, but immediately, she pictured Darach across the corridor. Sleeping in the large bed they once shared. How long before he shared it with another woman?
The door opened with a soft creak. Isobel didn’t bother to look. If Annis or Beatrice came to check on her, she would pretend to sleep. They would then leave satisfied she was well.
Moments later, Darach came to view as he rounded the bed. Isobel made sure to keep her eyelids lifted just enough to watch him through her lashes.
He paced in front of the fireplace as if trying to decide what to do. Then he sat in a chair and began removing his boots. After that, he removed his breeches, remaining only in a tunic.
With measured moves, he neared the bed and lifted the bedding.
The warmth of his nearness almost made her move away, but she persisted in pretending to sleep.
Darach laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Then ever so slowly, he picked up her left hand, held it against his chest, and promptly fell asleep.
If she were to snatch her hand away it would wake him, so instead, she lay still as his breathing evened out. Under her palm, the steady beating of his heart and heat soothed her. Despite herself, Isobel inhaled his familiar scent, realizing she’d missed him terribly.
With a herculean effort, she held back tears that threatened and forced sleep to come.
The door closing woke Isobel, she lifted her head to look and confirmed Darach had slipped out. Sighing she fell back onto the bed. She would have to inform him, he was not welcome to sneak into her bedchamber. Why bother with her own room if he was to intrude at will?
Admittedly, upon his coming to her bed, she’d fallen into the first deep sleep since the last time they’d shared a bed. However, she was not about to allow sentimentality to sully her convictions.
Annis entered moments later with a cup and saucer in hand. Behind her, a maid walked in with a pitcher of warm water for Isobel’s morning ablutions. It had been necessary when sharing a bed with Darach as they’d made love so often. Now, however, the additional washing was not as necessary.
Nonetheless, she did not say anything and went about preparing for the day.
“How would ye like yer hair today Lady Isobel?” Annis asked pulling her hair up and meeting her gaze in the mirror.
“Whichever way yer please. Something simple is fine.”
Once she dressed, again in a serviceable dress, as she planned to spend time reviewing the gardens, she lifted her shawl and opened the door.
Darach stood beside the door to his bedchamber. He leaned on the wall but straightened upon her appearance. Something in her stomach fluttered at seeing him.
“May I walk ye to first meal?”
“Yer mother has invited me to break my fast in her sitting room in the mornings.”
“It is customary for ye to eat with me,” he replied in a soft tone. “But if ye wish to eat with my mother, I will go with ye there instead.”
Isobel was at a loss. “Yer mother is expecting me.”
Taking her elbow, he guided her to the end of the corridor and then to the right where his mother’s quarters
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