Page 16 of The Lion

“Ye will never marry him, I will not allow it,” Isobel exclaimed, storming into the bedchamber she shared with her sister. “Darach Ross has become not only an intolerable brute, but he insulted our family.”

Beatrice, who’d been combing her hair in the mirror, turned to her wide-eyed. “What did he say?”

“I will not worry ye with specifics, but enough to say that he is not who ye should marry.” Isobel went to her sister. “Why are ye combing yer hair again? Annis styled it nicely this morning.”

Beatrice met her gaze in the mirror. “I prefer it down, my head hurts with the tight braid about it.”

“It flatters ye to wear it loose,” Isobel confirmed, leaning forward to take the brush from her sister’s hand. “However, Mother will not like it.” She began combing Beatrice’s hair, loving the feeling of closeness it brought.

“Is it not silly that we should wear our hair a certain way just because society mandates it?” Beatrice grimace. “Not every style is suitable for every woman.”

It was hard to argue with the truth, so Isobel nodded. “What would ye like me to do?”

“Pull it back just at the temples. A simple braid with those strands, the rest I wish to leave unpinned.”

Just then the door opened; her mother hurried in with a wide smile. “Honestly girls, it is a beautiful day outdoors, and here ye both are sequestered in the house.” She went to the window and pushed the shutters further apart. “I have exciting news.”

Instantly Isobel’s stomach tumbled, and she closed her eyes. “Mother, I must tell ye something.”

“Not now darling,” her mother said. “Lady Ross, Ella, and both of ye. Oh, and me, of course, are to be included in something.”

The fact their mother dragged out whatever she was to say dramatically, was entertaining most days. However, today Isobel wanted to shake her. “What is it Mother?”

Beatrice sat up straighter with expectation, her hands up ready to clap upon the announcement.

“We are to help plan a huge celebration. A festival.” Clasping her hands in front of her chest, Lady Macdonald’s bright smile made Isobel grin in return. Despite everything that happened with the annoying laird, a celebration was always a good thing.

Her mother turned in a circle. “We must ensure both of ye look perfect. This may be the day the handsome laird declares his intention to marry…”

“No. He is not a good match for Beatrice,” Isobel said, interrupting her mother. “He is not a kind man, in the least.”

After a patient sigh, her mother closed the distance between them. “I adore yer sense of devotion to yer sister. Ye would probably find fault with any man that showed interest. It is time for Beatrice to marry.”

Isobel bit her back teeth as she pondered what to tell her mother. That Laird Ross had insinuated Beatrice and Gideon had stolen away. Or perhaps that he’d called her drab. No, that was partially true. Still, he did not have to say it out loud.

“I do not believe he cares for our family.”

“Tell her how he insulted us,” Beatrice prodded with a stern, but unconvincing expression.

Their mother’s eyes widened. “What did he do?”

In that moment, Isobel wasn’t sure what to divulge. If she told her mother about his insinuation, she would immediately confront him, and it would turn into an uncomfortable situation since the family bìrlinns would not return to pick them up for weeks. Then there was the personal insult to her appearance.

“He was unkind to me; said I was drab. Then he… well he…should not have said those things to me.”

Her mother neared and put her arms around Isobel’s shoulders. “Oh, darling. I am so sorry. Yer father and I have often remarked that it will take a special man to understand ye. That ye dress for practicality and care not for fabrics that will only end up torn or stained when ye go on yer treks about the countryside.”

Now she felt silly; her mother was right. Her betrothal to a man she’d considered herself madly in love with had ended horribly.

The more he’d tried to mold her into what his family considered to be a proper lady, the more she’d hated it. Too young to know better, she’d tried to please him, even laying with him.

In the end, his family had terminated the betrothal, and she’d waited months before telling her parents that she was no longer a virgin. By then, her betrothed was married.

If she married, it would be for love and to a man who would not only overlook her lack of fanciful dresses, but also the unseemly fact that she was not a virgin.

“I will be speaking to Mariel,” her mother said, referring to Lady Ross. “I changed Darach’s nappies and will not stand for him insulting ye.”

“Please do not say anything,” Isobel said and abruptly changed the subject, hoping to dissuade her mother. “What exactly are the plans for the festival?”