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were. When they walked in, the table was set with four plates and cups, as Beatrice and Ella often ate there as well. If Lady Mariel was surprised at her son’s appearance, she did not act like it. Instead, she stood and went to him.

“Son, I am so glad that ye join us today,” she said lifting her face to accept his kiss to the cheek.

Darach guided Isobel to a chair and lowered to another next to her. A servant hurriedly placed a plate and cup before him. “We only have tea, Laird,” the girl explained. “I can go fetch ale.”

“Tea is fine,” he replied and lifted Isobel’s plate. Once he served her something of each item, a slice of cold meat, cheese, and bread. He left off buttering the bread knowing she did not care for it.

Beatrice met Isobel’s gaze with questions and Isobel gave a light shrug and a droll look.

“What will be done about the Uisdein?” Ella asked. Obviously the only one not ill at ease at Darach’s presence.

“I declared clan Uisdein our enemy. Therefore, we will not trade with them, nor will his people be allowed past our borders.”

“What of families?” Beatrice asked, unable to remain quiet. “Are there not families that are joined by marriage who belong to both clans?”

He nodded. “Aye. And they will have to choose a side.”

Lady Mariel changed the conversation to the normal talk of the daily duties, as Darach ate and listened in silence. Every so often he added suggestions, which surprised Isobel to the amount of knowledge he had when it came to running the household.

“All of my sons helped me when lads,” Lady Mariel informed her and Beatrice. “Ye see, their father would not have any duties for them until they reached ten and three, before then, he preferred I keep them out of the way. Therefore, they did household duties. In my opinion, it prepared them better for life on their own, if it came to be.”

The more she learned about Lady Mariel, the more Isobel admired her and understood why her sons were so loyal to her. She was the single reliant and constant presence in their lives.

“When I am blessed with bairns, I hope to be like ye, Lady Mariel,” Isobel said and then covered her mouth with one hand at realizing the implications of her statement.

If Darach found her words surprising, he didn’t act so. Unfortunately, Beatrice was as enthusiastic as ever.

“There is no doubt in my mind that ye will be the best mother,” she said looking around the table. “Isobel has been the best sister, always caring for me and looking after my safety and such. She will be a wonderful mother.”

“Laird,” a guard said, standing at the door. “There is a messenger here for ye.”

“Duty calls,” he said pushing back from the table. He stood and walked out speaking to the guard, immediately back to being Laird Ross.

Everyone looked to her at his absence.

“Did ye forgive him already?” Beatrice asked, her arms crossed. “So soon?”

“I have not come to the place where I can,” Isobel explained. “He was standing in the corridor waiting for me and insisted on accompanying me.” She left out the part of him coming to her bed the night before as Isobel wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Lady Mariel lifted her cup to her lips and sipped. “He has a lot of making up to do. I suggest ye do not forgive him until yer good and ready. What my son did was utterly thoughtless.”

“But ye must admit Mother, it was so unlike him,” Ella said coming to her brother’s defense. “Darach has always been fair. Although at times too stern, he does care about what others feel.”

Beatrice bristled. “He insulted my sister greatly.”

“I do not argue it,” Ella replied. “However, please do not think less of him. He made a mistake. A horrible mistake.” She sniffed and wiped away a tear. “Please do not hate my brother, Isobel. Do not make yer marriage like Mother’s.”

Isobel rushed around the table to hug Ella. “I do not hate him. He is my husband. It will take me time to forgive his unfaithfulness and learn to live with the fact he may keep a lover.”

“He will not keep a lover,” Lady Mariel insisted. “He asked that I find a husband for her. Lilia admitted to Darach that the bairn is not his but would not name the father. I believe my son when he tells me he has not lain with her since before yer arrival Isobel.”

Beatrice spoke up for Isobel as she could not think of what to say. “I hope my sister will come to trust him because like ye, Ella, I wish for them a happy marriage. A love match.”

There was a lot of work to be done in the gardens. Large cabbages, leeks, and beetroot flourished along with carrots that were ready to be harvested. A waist-high wall had been built around the area to keep livestock out which had a beautifully crafted iron gate. On the far corner of the garden area was a shed that held gardening tools, baskets, and lines of herbs hung to dry. Just outside the shed, there was a small table and a bench for resting. It was one of Isobel’s favorite places and she planned to sit there and sketch the garden before it was harvested.

Thankfully, they would be able to stretch out the offerings through the winter. Once all the harvesting was done, it would be time to allow the soil to rest.

Isobel looked on as weeds were plucked and the items needed for that day’s last meal were gathered. “Give me the basket,” she said to a maid, and accepted a basket filled with vegetables to take inside.

When she turned, Darach stood by the gate. His gaze moved from her face to the basket and he extended a hand. “I will take it inside. Wait here for me.”

The women working in the garden stopped

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