Page 78 of The Beast

“The Macdonald insisted that Beatrice return with us,” Darach said, pinning Duncan with a sharp look.

“Ye should speak to yer wife, do what ye can to reconcile.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Beatrice’s hands shook and her breathing hitched upon seeing Duncan. With windblown hair and a thicker beard, he looked like a savage. A breathtakingly handsome wild man, who’d not been tamed.

It hurt that he’d not insisted on talking to her, that instead, he’d turned away and gone with the laird. Then again, she supposed he was supposed to do what his brother asked.

“Where are my things?” she asked Orla, who hurried through the great room.

The maid motioned to the stairs. “The same room that ye and Mister Duncan shared before. I am fetching water so ye can bathe.”

“Thank ye, Orla.” Beatrice hurried up the stairs. The corridor was dimly lit as she made her way to the bedchamber. Her feet felt heavier with each step at recalling the last time they’d stayed there and how loudly they’d made love.

Just as she passed through the doorway, strong arms wrapped around her body. Her breath caught upon realizing it was Duncan. Leaning against his chest, she didn’t try to fight instead waited limply for what he’d do or say next.

Duncan turned her around so that she faced him and once again pulled her into a hard embrace.

“Forgive me. Forgive me,” he murmured over and over, a catch in his voice. “Please, Beatrice.”

The way their bodies fit together soothed the exhaustion. If it was possible, her love for Duncan had grown with each passing day. At the same time, Beatrice could not shake the ache of his leaving.

Pushing away from him, she looked up at him, fighting the urge to sweep the dark hair from his brow. “I have forgiven ye.”

“But ye remain hurt.”

“When ye did not show up on the day we departed, my heart broke Duncan. It was days before the letter came.” Beatrice closed her eyes. “Ye could have talked to me. We could have waited to go had I known how ye felt.”

He nodded, the bi-colored gaze not leaving her face. “The realization of what I did finally sunk in and when it did, I almost did not return. I broke yer trust in me, and for that, I cannot forgive myself.”

He waited and when she remained silent, he spoke again. “No blame would fall upon ye for not accepting me back as yer husband. It is me that broke our vows and any relationship that was building between us.”

“I need to bathe and rest. Can we talk later? My mind is awhirl, I cannot seem to get a straight thought.” Beatrice turned to the tub, steam rose from the hot water and she could not wait to sink into it.

The door closed behind her and she let out a long breath. What was she to do? A part of her wanted to be back in North Uist with her family, and not having to worry about the pressure of marriage and forgiveness. As much as she loved and wanted her husband, the fear that he’d leave her over and over made Beatrice hesitate to return to him.

Beatrice sunk into the hot perfumed water that was the perfect antidote for not just her weary body, but also her mind.

The picture of Duncan’s face floated in her mind. How could she not remain with the man? He deserved love and patience, but was she strong enough?

There was a light knock and Isobel’s face appeared from behind the door. “I came to check on ye. I saw Duncan go down the stairs and outside.”

“Outside?”

“Aye, he is over by the vegetable garden, looking forlorn.” Isobel lifted a large cloth so that Beatrice could dry herself. The water had cooled quickly, and she disliked cool baths.

“My husband will have to learn that he cannot simply appear and expect to be welcomed back with open arms.”

Isobel went to the window and peered out. “Aye, I agree. How I would react if in yer shoes is not an easy answer.”

“Ye forgave Darach when he went to see that woman instead of coming straight home upon his release from imprisonment.”

For a split second, Beatrice wondered if she’d been unthoughtful in her comment, but Isobel shrugged it away. “I was very angry at him. It seems ye are in a similar situation. Having to decide whether to trust yer husband or not. If the answer is no, then ye should return to our parent’s home.”

Our parent’s home. No longer their home. After marriage wherever their husband was home.

She dressed in a light dress and then donned a thick shawl over her shoulders. “I am not sure how to proceed. I do love him dearly. I will obey my vows and remain with him. However, I must decide what the terms will be. Overall, I must protect my heart.”