Page 73 of The Beast

“How is she?” Duncan asked.

His brother shrugged. “Brokenhearted. Barely leaves her bedchamber. As one would expect a wife to be after her husband insults her family and leaves her.”

“I did not want to do it.”

Darach met his gaze. “We understand ye, Duncan. I know what all ye have been through. However, that does not excuse what ye did.”

“Seeing him. Farlan. It brought it all back. I have spent the last weeks unable to push past it. I was not in any shape to face her family; it took all my willpower to remain after that day in the forest.”

His brother was silent. It didn’t bode well that Darach had no advice to give. It was as if a heavy boulder rested on his shoulders and Duncan could not sit straight. “I should return home or perhaps leave Uist altogether.”

“Ye will stay here in the village. I will present yer case to the Macdonald. If ye wish me to give Beatrice a message, I can do that as well. Once a decision is reached, one way or another, I will come to inform ye.”

“When are ye returning home?” Duncan asked at a loss for what else should be said.

“Winter has been mild, Mother had decided to return when we got the message that Ewan and Gideon could not find ye. I am not sure now. Perhaps another fortnight.”

When they reached the village tavern, the brothers dismounted. Over a tankard of ale, Darach told him what happened to Ella. “She may have to remain behind until the spring. The break was quite extensive.”

After finishing his drink, Darach met his gaze. “Do ye have coin to pay for lodging?”

Duncan nodded. “I do.”

Motioning to the serving woman, Duncan ordered a bowl of food and another tankard of ale. He wondered how long it would be before word came.

“Tell her I love her,” he said, then shook his head. “No. Forget it.”

“What about Evander and Padraig?” Darach asked.

“I am sorry.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Beatrice, open the door,” her mother’s voice rose with annoyance. “Now.”

On heavy feet, she went to the door and unlocked it. “I am not in a good frame of mind today. I am not sure I want to talk about what happened.”

“How ye feel about what just occurred is very important. Yer father wishes for us to gather to discuss what to do.”

“Should we not wait until the Ross returns?”

“He just did,” her mother replied motioning to the door. “Let us go.”

It had been a long time since Beatrice had cared about her appearance. She’d only worn the serviceable dresses that allowed for going outdoors and helping in the garden or feeding the goats. She’d not cared about her more elaborate gowns that suddenly felt silly and something someone without a care in the world would don.

Interesting how much things changed in a matter of weeks.

Upon entering the parlor, everyone was already seated. Evander turned to her, his left eye purpling from the fight. She looked to Padraig. He had a swollen bottom lip and a cut above his right eye.

Her father cleared his throat and directed his comment to Darach. Most of the conversation would be between the lairds, with words from the rest only when requested.

“Yer brother seems to hold little regard for the rules of our people. He offended me and my clan by ignoring my invitation. Even worse, he hurt my daughter. I have no tolerance for a man who abandons his wife.” At the stern words, Beatrice’s chest and stomach clenched. What could Darach say that could possibly change her father’s mind about Duncan.

The Ross looked first to Lady Mariel, who gave a soft nod. Whatever he was about to say, he’d sought her council first.

“My brother is a kind, brave, and proud man. However, he is also a broken and damaged man, who has yet to overcome his past.” Darach met Beatrice’s gaze. “I am not sure if he divulged to ye the cause of each of his scars.”

Turning back to her father, he continued. “There is very little of my brother’s body that is not scarred from whippings, broken bones, and other forms of torture that his captors imposed on him during the years of his captivity. Duncan spent days, sometimes weeks without food and water and then was forced to fight against able-bodied men for a piece of moldy bread. When they wished to kill captives, it was Duncan who was told how to do it. If he refused, then he and the other prisoner would be whipped until he did it. My brother often prayed for a death that did not come while left in the dark, rats feasting on his bloodied body. This repeated itself for ten long years. When Duncan became terribly ill, the others on the ship were afraid to catch whatever he had. They threw him overboard. Feverish and malnourished, it was a miracle he survived. That is how he was able to return to us.”