Page 15 of The Beast

Beatrice was at a loss for words. In truth, if the roles were reversed, she would definitely be watching him. She’d never seen a man fully bereft of clothing. However, she suspected the man in the room had seen more than his fair share.

Instead of arguing further, she went back to where her clothes were and continued to get dressed. “We should head back to the keep. Everyone must be worried sick.”

He pointed to the ceiling. “It’s still storming. I am hopeful it will lessen enough at sunrise that we can continue there.”

“Do ye realize the implications if it is found out that we spent the night together all alone?” Beatrice fumbled with the ties of her bodice and gave up. At this point what did propriety matter, the man had seen her fully naked. “My family would demand ye marry me immediately.”

“We will not tell them then,” Duncan said, and for some reason it stung that he did not wish to marry her. There was nothing about a marriage between them that would be so horrible. The families were already tied, she would be able to spend time with her sister and best of all, not have to marry a MacLeod and live in the frozen north.

She let out an annoyed sigh and lowered back to the pallet. “And how do ye plan to explain us appearing at the keep together?”

“Ye left my house, without telling me. I was on my way to the keep and happened upon ye.”

His explanation had merit. After all, she was resourceful enough to have found an abandoned place to spend the night. In reality, she would have continued riding through the rain, ended up lost, and probably have caught her death from the cold. It was best not to think on that alternate outcome.

“Fine. I agree to that explanation.” Outside the rain continued to fall. By the sound of it, the storm was lessening. Beatrice decided to rest until they left, so she pulled the plaid over her and snuggled into it.

She looked to Duncan. “Who do ye plan to marry one day?”

There was a hardening to his expression. “I do not plan to marry—ever.”

“Ye must wish to have bairns and a wife to care for ye.”

“Nay.”

Beatrice sat up. She’d never met someone who planned to end up alone. “What about when ye grow old? Ye will be alone.”

He gave her a droll look. “I have six siblings. They will marry and have children. Surely one of their offspring will look after an old uncle.” His response was flat as if he didn’t believe it. How sad that someone would give up on life and all that it might bring and expect to end their time here alone.

“Ye are still young. There is time to change yer mind,” Beatrice told him, more to make herself feel better than for his benefit.

“Why are ye avoiding returning to North Uist?”

Lifting to sit, Beatrice considered her answer. “I do not wish to be used as an object, to be traded to a man in exchange for some sort of agreement between clans. My father plans to marry me off to a MacLeod. I prefer to choose my own husband.”

“Ye have known all yer life it was not a possibility,” Duncan told her what she already knew. “Why rebel?”

“Because I have to. Ye of all people should see that. I wish to marry a man I admire and am attracted to. Someone who I can share how I feel and who listens to me. Truly listens. I imagine the MacLeod’s to be much the same as most men.”

Duncan shrugged. “I am sure they too have been groomed to marry someone that is chosen for them and perhaps have accepted it.”

For some reason, sadness enveloped her and Beatrice closed her eyes as tears threatened. “I wish that things were different, but I cannot change my future. I cannot be a disappointment to my parents. Yer right. I should just accept my lot.” She wiped at a tear and drew in a ragged breath.

“Are ye crying?” Duncan leaned forward and studied her face.

“No,” Beatrice lied. “Smoke from the fire got in my eyes.” Once again, she settled onto the pallet and in her mind pictured that the abandoned house was where she and Duncan lived. She imagined where she’d place furniture and that they often had long conversations before retiring for the evening.

He would envelop her in his strong arms at night and keep her safe from the outside world. Nothing or no one would dare interrupt their life.

“Ye will be well,” Duncan said lowering next to her and pulling her against his chest.

It was then Beatrice realized she’d been sobbing. His actions only made her cry harder in the knowledge that once her mother arrived, she would return home and be quickly married off. Her freedom and life would be forever changed.

Duncan was silent. He didn’t try to soothe or calm her, but his quiet strength gave Beatrice comfort, and she finally stopped the tears.

“Thank ye,” she whispered and let out a shaky sigh. “I know what I must do and will return home once my mother arrives.” Instead of moving away, she snuggled against his warm body and promptly fell asleep.

Duncan had never held a woman while she slept. The few times he’d been intimate had been a fast interlude. A quick pulling up of skirts and lowering of breeches, no romance, only physical release.