Page 23 of The Beast

Beatrice placed a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. Her lovely eyes lifted to his. Upon their gazes clashing, Duncan felt a kinship with her and considered that he should marry her, and all consequences be damned. The thought of her with either Caelan or Stuart made his blood boil.

“I do not know what is wrong. In a way, it probably is not my secret to know. However, I have caused ye trouble and for that, I beg that ye forgive me.”

The urge to pull her close and comfort her was strong, but Duncan managed to keep his arms against his sides. “Ye have nothing to apologize for.”

“It seems I have learned a valuable lesson. My rashness causes problems for others and I should have known better. I am no longer a young lass that can act without thinking.”

Her expression changed and he knew she’d come up with an idea. When she slid a gaze to the view outside, he inhaled sharply. “I hope ye do not plan to go on a sea voyage alone. If the trek to my house was dangerous, that would be perilous.”

“I am not going anywhere,” she quipped. “However, I do have a brilliant idea.” When her lips curved, for the first time in his life, Duncan wished he could see it every day.

Without thought, he took her face and pressed his lips to hers.

Realizing what he did, Duncan pushed away abruptly with so much force Beatrice stumbled backward.

Both of them wide-eyed stood facing each other for a long moment.

“I-I…” he stuttered, unsure what to say after having done something so impulsive.

“First ye see me bereft of clothing and now ye kiss me. What is next?” Beatrice huffed, crossing her arms.

“Why did he see ye with no clothing on?” Isobel’s voice sounded behind him.

Duncan closed his eyes. The day had just gotten worse.

When he opened them, Beatrice was gone, she’d rounded him to go to her sister. “Ye should not be lurking about eavesdropping.”

“Did ye not think that small detail should have been disclosed?”

“He did not do it on purpose. I thought he was gone when I was naked.”

Isobel glowered at Duncan. “So ye were undressed as well?”

“Goodness.” Beatrice let out an annoyed breath. “We were soaked, had to remove our clothes to dry them or catch our death. He did not see me undress.”

“Ye just said he saw ye bereft of clothes.”

“Aye, when I was dressing, I thought him gone. My fault entirely to have removed the plaid without noticing he was there.”

Isobel sized him up. “Duncan is a huge man, how could ye not notice he was in the room?”

“I had just woken up. I thought he’d slipped away while I slept.”

It was difficult to keep up with the discussion between the sisters. Duncan found himself looking from one to the other, not needing to speak as they seemed to have forgotten he stood there.

Just then his mother walked in. “Excuse us, please ladies. I must speak to my son.”

As the sisters walked away, Isobel insisted Beatrice retell what happened from the beginning.

His mother motioned for Duncan to sit and he lowered to a chair opposite her. Of all the rooms at the keep, the family parlor was his favorite. Keep Ross was over three hundred years old, and his family had made many changes. One of them was to tear down walls and construct a large room for family gatherings other than the great hall. Here in the parlor, the drapes were routinely pulled back to allow the sunshine in.

There were seating areas, shelves laden with books, and several pieces of furniture that reminded him of his childhood. During his father’s constant absences, he and his siblings spent many a day in that room, either playing as children or as young men discussing what they considered to be items of dire importance.

His mother had assured them a good life and for it, he’d be forever thankful.

Now her expression was serious. The questions she was going to ask were difficult, but he understood.

“Tell me why ye think ye should never marry? Yer anger can be controlled, ye can remove yerself to another room or go outside.” Her gaze was warm, while at the same time cautious.