A Beauty at the Highland Court by Celeste Barclay

Author:Celeste Barclay
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-08-23T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

“You are making a rather nasty habit of entering where you are not welcome, Lachlan. I’m certain your mother taught you better than that,” King Robert snapped. Lachlan and Arabella stood before him and Queen Elizabeth. Lachlan and Arabella had interrupted the royals’ conversation but hadn’t intruded upon another private moment.

“I ken, and I apologize, Your Majesty.” Lachlan bowed. “May we have a word with Uncle Robert and Aunt Elizabeth?” Lachlan signaled that he wished to talk to them as members of his extended family rather than as their sovereigns.

“Nay,” King Robert snapped. “You and your sisters are making this an all-too-frequent habit.”

Lachlan stiffened to his full height and raised his chin. “I am nearing six-and-twenty. In all my life, I have asked for three audiences as your godson. My sister Maude could have begged for you to make the other women cease their harassment, but she never did. She dealt with it herself. Maude only wished to marry the mon she loved. Blair only wanted the same and to help the mon she loved when his clan threatened to destroy him. You said yourself my family has a habit of marrying for love. That’s why I’m here.”

“My dear,” Queen Elizabeth laid her hand on King Robert’s forearm and leaned to whisper something in his ear while Lachlan and Arabella waited. King Robert’s lips turned down, but he nodded.

“Your godmother pointed out that not only do you speak the truth, but if I’m not prepared to be your godfather from time to time, I never should have accepted the privilege and the duty. What is it that you seek?”

“Your Majesty,” Arabella spoke up. She swallowed. “It’s not Lachlan who seeks something. I mean, not him alone. I need to confess something to the queen before we can move forward.”

Arabella glanced at Lachlan before stepping away. She moved toward the queen but stopped a respectful distance from her. She kneeled before Queen Elizabeth and bowed her head. She swallowed again, forcing herself to find the strength to confess what she’d only told Lachlan.

“Some time again, I developed a fondness for the drink, whisky in particular. It started out as a wee dram once in a while to calm my nerves before the evening meal. I didn’t notice the stares and whispers as much. When I realized the evenings I had a tipple were easier to manage than those when I didn’t, I started having a dram or two before the nightly meal. When I drank, the attention from men and the snide questions from women no longer made me self-conscious. Then my father informed me by missive that he was looking for a betrothal.” Arabella looked back at Lachlan. “I didn’t—I don’t—want to marry anyone but Lachlan. I became anxious that my father would marry me off before I could see Lachlan again. Then each time he came to court, neither of us dared confess how we felt for fear of hurting Maude and Blair. I started needing more than just a dram each evening to feel the same ease.

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