Page 24 of The Beast

Duncan shook his head. “I cannot marry. My body…a woman will recoil in horror if they see all the damage.”

“The right woman will see past the scars son. I have not seen ye or heard of ye having any kind of issues in a long time.”

He’d not kept count. In truth, it had been a long time since he’d become lost in the past. Even when Darach had been taken by a rival laird, he’d kept control.

“It has been a long time. I do things to keep my mind busy.”

“Is this longer than usual?”

Duncan did not want to think or discuss something that would not change his mind. “I suppose.”

“I must insist that ye consider marriage to Beatrice. She seems taken with ye, the first woman I’ve ever known to not be intimidated by ye,” his mother said.

“Mother, I cannot marry…”

Lady Mariel shook her head. “Oh, Duncan. It is ye that is holding yerself back. Not the scars or the anger. Ye are afraid and I understand. But ye are letting it hold ye back from life. Yer father is dead, and the past is gone. We must move on.”

Duncan shrugged. “I’m sorry Mother. I will not change my mind.”

There was resignation in his mother’s eyes. This was not the first time they’d had this conversation. “I think it is best that I speak to Beatrice, so she understands this is not a slight on our part.”

The tightness in his chest was something he’d not felt in a long time. Grief over the fact he’d lost his life a long time ago. A part of him was dead, and although he went through the motions of living, his soul remained empty.

“I wish…” his mother began, but then hugged him instead. “Go see about getting a good meal before heading home.”

“I have a cook Mother.”

“Ye do not have Greer.” She smiled knowing the cook had a soft spot for him.

Heading home, Duncan allowed the horse to meander and take its time. There was nothing waiting for him back at the house other than the wall and time alone.

He happened upon a man standing on the side of the road, next to a lopsided wagon. When Duncan neared, the man shook his head and said, “Wheel broke.”

“Ye can unhitch yer horse and ride to Keep Ross, they will help ye.” Duncan studied the wagon in which sat a pair of young children. Clean and well-fed, they looked up at him with curiosity.

“Aye, I was about to take the bairns and do just that.” He studied Duncan for a moment. “Ye are a Ross are ye not?”

“I am Duncan Ross,” he replied.

“I am to see yer brother about finding my wife,” the man said, then lowered his voice. “Took off on myself and the bairns again. Light-skirts she is.”

From the look of the man, he was caring, but perhaps a bit weak. If it were Duncan, he’d not go after the woman. “Why do ye want her back?”

“Look after the bairns. I work all day, have fifty head of sheep. Someone needs to keep them.”

Duncan scratched his head. “Ask my brother to help ye find a nursemaid who will work for little money in exchange for a roof over her head.”

It was obvious the man had not considered another option by the change in his expression from morose to excited. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I do not know.” Duncan maneuvered his horse so he could look to the children again. He plucked two coins from his purse and handed one to each of them.

Once on the road again, he couldn’t help but wonder how a mother could abandon her bairns. From the looks of the children, they were well-behaved and bonnie. Perhaps it was her husband’s weakness, he concluded.

The hair on the nape of his head lifted and he began scanning the surroundings. He was almost home, passing a field with scattered cusps of trees. The sensation of someone watching him became stronger, the closer he got home.

If someone was about, they hid well because he did not see anything amiss. Once arriving at the stables, Creagh, the stablemaster hurried out and took the horse to be looked after.

Duncan caught up with the man. “Have ye seen anyone about today?”