Page 10 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)
He hesitated, as if reluctant to answer. “It’s called Nead an Diabhail. It means ‘Devil’s Nest,’” he added when she arched a brow.
“I see.” Devil, no less. Well. She’d asked, had she not? “Is everything in Scotland so…formidable?”
The word died on her lips when he threw her an amused look. “Aye, I guess most things are. But don’t let it impress you. I hear that Castell Esgyrn means Bones Castle. It cannot get more sinister than that, and yet you’ll agree that there is nothing remotely fearsome about the place.”
She was surprised he was aware of the meaning of the castle’s name.
He had to have asked for the translation, for how else would he know?
The thought warmed her. At least someone in the Campbell family seemed interested in her.
“Yes. The workers found two skeletons in the ditch when they dug the foundations to build it a century or so ago, hence the name.”
Cameron chuckled, something she would have thought him incapable of.
Men like him didn’t chuckle. It was not just that he looked like a warrior, dressed in chainmail and atop a mighty charger horse, although it certainly made it odd to see him act as an amused child, but he seemed too…
well too formidable to have such a reaction. And undeniably, it was endearing.
“I hope Ned…”
“Nead an Diabhail,” he supplied when she faltered.
“Thank you. I hope Nead an Diabhail is not called Devil’s Nest for a similar reason.”
Another chuckle. Another beat her heart skipped.
“You ken, I’ve never wondered why it was called like that.
But now that I think of it, I doubt the Devil has ever set foot by the loch, much less built a nest there.
It’s much too peaceful a place, nothing like the fiery pits he favors.
You’ll soon see for yourself, as ’tis only half a day’s ride away from Crois Dhubh, right next to a stream going by the name of Demon’s Bowels and a wee rock the local children call the Crooked Tooth. ”
She recoiled at the list of ominous names. Just where was she headed? “Really?”
This time he winked. “Nay, I’m jesting with you. Not all names are that bad, and I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
Bethan didn’t answer, as she suddenly felt unsettled.
Cameron Campbell could be whimsical. It was quite unexpected, and though she wasn’t sure why, it unnerved her.
His thoughtfulness had been a pleasant discovery, but she wasn’t sure how to deal with this side of him.
It was odd because there was nothing she liked more than to exchange pleasantries with people. With him, it seemed dangerous somehow.
By midafternoon, they reached the small but pretty castle that was now Siaspar’s home.
Her brother had succeeded in doing what their father had tried his whole life to do.
Hardworking, clever, and determined, he had earned himself the respect and affection of the ageing lord he’d been sent to foster with at a young age.
When the man had died, a few months after his only son had been killed quite stupidly during a hunt, he had left his estate to the only person worthy of the succession in his eyes.
As a result, aged only twenty, Siaspar ap Morgan was master of Castell y Ddraig.
It was a stunning achievement for a brewer’s grandson, undoubtedly, and Bethan was proud of him.
He had not let his father’s dispossession affect him and had built a future for himself on his own merit, unlike her, who would owe her subsistence and what little status she’d have to a husband she had not even chosen herself.
Pushing the sobering thought away, she nudged Petal onward and rode under the portcullis at a brisk trot.
Her brother would be expecting her, and she was equally eager to see him.
Earlier that day, Hamish had been sent ahead with a message from her to make sure everything was ready when the retinue arrived.
“ Chwaer !”
Bethan almost dissolved into sobs when Siaspar called her “sister” with such emotion. This might well be the last time she ever heard the familiar endearment—or even saw him. The idea was too awful to contemplate.
While brother and sister fell into one another’s arms, Cameron looked around the bailey appreciatively.
The place was well-maintained and two men at arms were patrolling the battlements despite the lack of immediate threat.
Though he was the same age as Dougal, the Welsh boy was proving a much more efficient administrator than his nephew would ever be.
Would that Crois Dhubh was as half as welcoming and well-guarded as this estate…
Poor Bethan was in for a rude awakening, if this was what she was expecting.
His gaze went back to her. The affection between her and her brother was obvious.
As soon as she had dismounted, she had thrown herself into his arms. The two of them spent a long moment talking together in Welsh under their breaths, while the Scots glanced at one another uneasily.
Cameron thought he understood the reason behind the looks.
They, like him, felt like executioners about to lead their victim to the block.
When Siaspar ap Morgan finally drew away from the embrace, it was clear from his scowling countenance that he was as opposed to his sister’s marriage to a Scot as she herself was.
Nevertheless, he addressed him with all marks of civility, thereby proving he was not one to hold unnecessary grudges.
He knew this union had been decided by others.
“Welcome to Castell y Ddraig, my lord, or should I say, my laird.” His English was even more accented than Bethan’s, which was hardly surprising.
He, unlike her, had not been raised at Castell Esgyrn and would have had fewer opportunities to practice.
At least they could communicate, which was the important thing.
“I thank you.”
Cameron had never been one for seeing beauty in men, but he couldn’t help but see it in Bethan’s younger brother. With thick chestnut hair and sparkling brown eyes, Siaspar was the masculine version of his sister, which was to say he was a stunning man.
“I do not like the idea of Bethan being sent to Scotland to marry a stranger,” the Welshman surprised him by saying next.
Clearly, like his brazen sister, he was not one to be intimidated.
“It bothered me when the contract was signed all those years ago, and it still bothers me now. Though I tried to find a flaw within it many a time, I could not. Unfortunately, our fathers made sure the contract was unbreakable. Can you at least assure me that she will be well treated?”
Everything bristled within Cameron at the idea of Bethan being mistreated and he glared at the Welshman for even daring to suggest he would let such a thing happen. “She will be. I’ll see to it myself.”
A twinge of guilt made him frown. Why had he said that? He had made it sound as if he would be the one looking after Bethan, night and day, when they all knew he wouldn’t even be at Crois Dhubh with her.
“How will you do that?” Siaspar arched a brow. He had not missed his vehemence. “You are not the one who will marry her, are you?”
“No. But she is marrying into my clan and my family. Therefore, her happiness is my responsibility.”
“Happiness? Surely you mean safety?”
Damn and blast, the man was far too astute for a twenty-year-old. Cameron clenched his jaw. Siaspar might be a formidable opponent, but that didn’t mean he had to allow him to win. Where was the confident man and level-headed laird he prided himself on being?
“My whole existence is dedicated to ensuring no one under my care has reason to be unhappy,” he stated firmly. This, at least, was true. The men around him grumbled their agreement, adding weight to his declaration.
For a moment, the two men stared at one another, not backing down. Eventually, the youth nodded. Oddly, though, this victory felt hollow.
“Shall we?” Siaspar offered. “I daresay you will all be thirsty and famished.”
They were, so Cameron accepted the invitation to follow him into the great hall while his men were directed to the stables, where food was already being taken.
Castell y Ddraig was run efficiently indeed.
Did Bethan share her brother’s flair for management, he wondered?
She had better do, as Dougal would likely spend most of his time away, in the Bruce’s army, and Crois Dhubh was in sore need of repairs.
She would be the one in charge of putting it to rights.
Not for the first time, he found himself bemoaning his stepbrother’s decision to marry his son to a woman he didn’t know, and who was obviously looking for a real marriage, not just an advantageous match.
Well, it was as Siaspar ap Morgan had said, it could not be helped.