“Beauty isnae useful to me,” he said. He hoped the chill in his voice made his point clear, but he knew Violet too well to believe she’d leave well enough alone.
“Aye, understood. But it doesnae hurt to have a beautiful lass around.”
Leo swung his pack over his shoulder, facing his sister long enough to see how giddy she was.
Why is everyone so keen on me goin' soft for some debtor’s daughter? Forget the council, why does Violet care what I do?
“I’ll be back in a day,” he grunted, ignoring her comment. “Try nae to drink all me whisky and sour the servants on our bloodline.”
“Aye, and come back in one piece.”
They embraced in their brisk, familial way.
Then Tyler followed him out through the courtyard towards the stables, where a few guards were waiting to join him. The guards were talking to each other in odd tones, but they grew silent and wide-eyed as he approached.
“Are ye all ready?” he asked.
The guards nodded, dutiful and alert.
“We follow yer command, me Laird,” one of the men responded.
Aye, at least ye do. It’s more than I can say for Beatrice.
They mounted their horses.
Tyler raised a hand in a farewell salute, and the pack of them trotted towards the outlands, Leo relieved to put some distance between him and the auburn-haired woman haunting his home. And his mind.
A full day without the distraction of Leo MacSween should have been good news for Beatrice, so she was confused when the corridors felt empty.
She wandered the courtyard and garden for a while, studying the flowers that grew in the highland landscape. A few times, she thought she caught sight of a woman peering out the windows at her, but she assumed it was a maid being curious or nosy.
As night fell, she retired to her chambers early. She wasn’t very hungry and couldn’t quite place her mood. A part of her deep down felt lonely, swollen, and tender in a strange, unfamiliar way.
Goodness, I cannae really be missing him, can I? What kind of a lass gets tangled up with a man like him?
She wanted Leo to be a simple means to an end, but her thoughts drifted back to the scene she had witnessed in the courtyard the day before, where he had darted and fought like water. She remembered the soldiers staring with respect and awe, not to mention Effie whispering in the corner and intermittently watching him command them.
Above the hearth in her chambers, a depiction of Venus stared stolidly at her with painted eyes. Beatrice paced beneath it, turning to return the blank gaze of the goddess.
“Aye, but ye never had to face a situation like this,” she said out loud, slipping her hand into her pocket and feeling the shape of the ring there. “A goddess like ye just has to ride on clamshells and be gorgeous.”
A faint, timid knock at the door shook her out of her musings, and she opened it, embarrassed by what she was nearly caught doing.
Ye’re goin' crazy, lass.
In the doorway stood Tyler himself.
“A letter from yer parents, Beatrice Whitmore,” he said simply, holding it out to her. “Shall I wait here in case ye want to send an immediate reply?”
Beatrice thought for a moment and nodded as she accepted the letter, her chest constricting as she broke the seal and went over to the lantern by the bed to read it.
“Lord in heaven, what now?” she muttered, settling close to the lantern next to the bed to read the letter. “I daenae think I can handle any more bad news.”
The message started with “Dearest daughter,” which calmed her down for a second before she continued reading. It was not the missive she had expected from her parents.
We cannot allow this marriage to go on as you have conspired. We will find a suitable Laird for you to marry, one that will suit our purposes.
She made the mistake of reading those lines out loud with amazement, and then, utterly embarrassed, looked at Tyler, who discreetly dismissed himself.
