Page 4 of The Beast

Duncan rushed to his room as soon as he could without seeming rude. He was not comfortable with so many people he didn’t know, and the music didn’t help settle him at all. As a matter of fact, most times he found it to be an annoyance.

He paced the bedchamber as familiar aches began. The torment was not only physical, but it was mental as well. His mind would go to dark places and there was little he could do to stop it. This was a most inconvenient time as the episodes of despondency would sometimes last two or three days. At home, he’d work until too tired to move or he’d lock himself in his room and keep away from people. Here neither option was a possibility.

“Not now,” he gritted the words out loud through a clenched jaw.

Knocks on the door made him want to scream for the person to go away. If it were not that he was somewhere unfamiliar, he would have.

“Come in.”

Lady Macdonald appeared holding a tray with two cups upon it. “Herbs for yer head. Yer brother told me ye suffer from headaches. I do not wish to disturb ye but would like a word in private before ye retire.”

Forcing himself to settle, he motioned to a chair and lowered to the one next to it. He picked up the cup feeling out of sorts holding the delicate item in his large, calloused hands.

The liquid was sweet and tasted of spices, he’d never had before. “What is this?”

“It is a spice called cinnamon that I purchased from one of the ships that stopped here for a while after suffering some damage.”

Duncan drank it down, enjoying how the fragrance combined with the boiled herb did indeed help him settle.

“Here drink mine as well,” Lady Macdonald pushed her full cup into his hands.

He drank, but this time slower. “What did ye wish to speak with me of Lady Macdonald?”

“Beatrice’s letter. I did not wish to say more in front of my husband and sons. She claims ye have expressed a desire to court.”

“Court?” Duncan looked into the cup wondering if he could ask for more. It was delicious and it would give him time to consider how to reply. “I am not sure what ye mean.”

Lady Macdonald chuckled. “Ye have a headache and I am sure this is not the most appropriate time to speak of such things. However, since ye leave soon, I find there is no other time.”

“Aye, of course,” Duncan replied focusing on the woman. “What exactly did yer daughter write that concerns me?”

With a look of confusion, Lady Macdonald pulled the letter from the hidden pocket within her dress folds. “She states that ye have expressed a desire to court her for marriage and that is why she wishes to remain there longer.”

Duncan waited for a moment hoping to come up with a suitable response. He didn’t wish to tell Lady Macdonald that her daughter lied. Could it be he’d said something that would have led the lass to think he was courting her?

“When we spoke, we did not come to any avowal,” he finally said.

“But ye do wish to court her? Or should I assume that my daughter has been otherwise compromised?”

His eyes rounded. “Not at all. We have not been alone, except for once, and only briefly.”

“I see.” Lady Macdonald lifted a brow. “Ye have not replied to my first question.”

Despite his lack of being part of any courting ritual in his life, Duncan knew enough about mothers to keep from angering Lady Macdonald in any fashion.

“I find Miss Beatrice to be exquisite. In truth, I do not believe to have ever met a woman as beautiful. It would be an honor to court her.”

Duncan was satisfied he’d replied correctly without compromising himself. It seemed Lady Macdonald was not as happy with his reply. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him for a beat longer than comfortable.

“We shall discuss this further upon my visit to South Uist. It will be at least a sennight until I arrive, hopefully not more. I must wait until after the MacLeod’s visit. Hopefully, they will not extend their stay past two or three days.”

She took the empty cup from his hand and the other one and placed them back on the tray. “I will ensure to pack some of this cinnamon for ye to take. Let yer cook know it must boil in the water until the aroma rises.”

When the woman walked out, Duncan was too preoccupied with what Beatrice had written that he didn’t notice the episode that had threatened was gone.

Why would the lass write such a thing? If anything, he was the one she’d spoken to least of all his brothers. From what Stuart had said, she’d spent a great deal of time with Gideon.

He considered their conversation in the parlor. She’d held a journal and had prepared quill and paper to write to her mother about her desire to remain at Keep Ross longer.