Page 3 of The Beast

Duncan nodded. “We are very much aware. Now that our clans are to be allies, we hope to also gain the trust of the MacLeod.”

“Well said young man,” the Macdonald stated. “Trust must exist for a true alliance to form. The marriage between our clans is a formality, but in truth, I am hopeful that we will gain a deeper friendship. I know it will make both my wife and yer mother very happy.”

Lady Macdonald nodded. “Indeed, it would. I do apologize for my daughter over-extending the boundaries of propriety when it comes to prolonging her visit, yet again.”

“My brother asked that we inform ye that she is more than welcome. It makes Isobel happy for her sister to remain and it is not an encumbrance in the least,” Stuart assured Lady Macdonald.

The woman looked less than convinced. “I cannot imagine what reason she gives me.”

Once the meal was over, Duncan and his brother were shown their chambers. They would only remain two nights and from there they were to meet with the sea captain before making their way back to South Uist.

Sometime later, Stuart walked into Duncan’s bedchamber. “What do ye think? If we form a strong alliance between the three clans, we are guaranteeing peace for our people.”

His brother held out a glass with what Duncan assumed was whisky. It tasted earthy and rich. Duncan lifted the drink and studied it. “We must ask for some of this to take back. It is very good.”

“Which is why I brought it. Padraig says they purchase it from a local man who has spent years perfecting it.”

The amber liquid slid down his throat making a warming trail down to his stomach. “And so, we will purchase some to take back.” He went to the window and peered down at the inner courtyard. People meandered about, preparing for the second part of the day.

Servants fed chickens, while young men tended to goats in a corral. There were several guardsmen walking atop the outer courtyard walkway, their heads turning every so often to take in what happened down below them.

It wasn’t too different than Keep Ross; however, there seemed to be a peace about the place. A sense of quiet and something Duncan couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I do not think I could live here.”

Stuart joined him at the window. “I’d miss the smell of the sea. No view of the waves and the closest mountain is barely visible.”

“I suppose that is it.” He wasn’t convinced. Something about the place made him uneasy, which made no sense. The people were friendly and there was no reason for him not to trust. It wasn’t the Macdonald’s he decided. It was what the building and the surroundings reminded him of a place he fought to forget but was forever branded into his mind and body.

He’d once been held captive off the coast of Spain. Whenever he was allowed on the ship’s deck, he’d stared at the whitewashed buildings that dotted the landscape. How he’d loathed the view of promise that would never come to be.

Last meal was served and again the fare was beyond reproach. Duncan ate his fill unable to keep from eating more than he should.

“Lady Macdonald, I must compliment yer cook. The meal is delicious,” Stuart, ever the diplomat told the hostess, who beamed with pride.

“Her name is Willa; she is actually quite young. However, her cooking is beyond reproach and the reason why we are visited again and again by people hoping to taste what she serves.”

The woman studied Duncan for a long moment. “My daughter writes and informs me that she had occasion to spend time with ye.”

Stuart along with Evander and Padraig all turned to him with curious expressions.

“Aye, we spoke in the parlor once. She noted that Evander and I have the same trait. Eyes of two different colors.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Lady Macdonald leaned forward studying his face. “Ye do.” She whirled to her son. “Evander, did ye notice?”

“I did Mother,” her son replied giving Duncan a knowing look.

Lady Macdonald studied them each again. “Evander’s eyes are blue and brown, where yers are the Ross hazel in yer left eye and brown in the right. How delightful,” she exclaimed.

He and Evander looked at one another for a split second, a sort of bonding over their trait forming.

The Macdonald looked from his son to Duncan. “A MacNeil trait I believe.”

“Aye, it is,” Lady Macdonald said with a wide smile. “My own father had two different colored eyes. One brown and one hazel, like yers, Duncan.”

“I have met my grandfather and it was strange to see someone else who had the same eyes as me,” Evander said. “Now ye are the second person.”

Duncan didn’t like being looked at so closely. When people studied a person overly long, sometimes they noted the hidden things.

Thankfully, just then musicians entered to entertain, and everyone returned to their meals.