Page 22 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)

“Speak, damn you!” she hissed. “You can’t expect me to wait patiently after what you just said!”

He gave a sigh and shook his head. “I had forgotten what unsuitable language you had acquired at the tavern. So unladylike.”

“You know I’m not truly a lady, you’ve said it enough times,” was her curt retort. For once she was not in the mood to tease him. “And believe me, you have heard nothing. Do not force me to say more.”

“Heaven forbid that I should. We are in a chapel, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

The light in his eyes, however, seemed to suggest he would like nothing more than to hear what she was capable of.

But Bethan didn’t indulge him. He’d just made the most shocking revelation, and she needed to hear more.

His face lost all trace of amusement, and she knew that was finally about to answer her question.

“Listen. I was not aware of this, as I was already on my way to Wales by then, but about a month ago Dougal was rewarded by the Bruce for his loyalty to him. It seems his involvement was of crucial importance in several of the sieges they’ve laid over the years.

Added to the estates he holds from my brother, it makes for a considerable fortune.

And, when he lay dying from the bloody flux that killed him, knowing he was not going to make it, he bequeathed it all to you. ”

“To…?”

“To you,” Cameron confirmed, his gaze unwavering.

Thunder fell at Bethan’s feet. “But why?”

“Dougal was not without honor, and he knew this union had been arranged to ensure your future.” He shrugged. “I imagine he thought to use that as compensation for having failed to make you Lady Cambell and leaving you in a difficult situation.”

Yes… But if what she had heard was true, her situation was not as dire as she had first imagined. She was now a rich woman, by all accounts.

“Are you sure?” She could barely believe it.

Cameron gave a rueful smile. “Aye, I’ve seen the papers, it’s official. But don’t rejoice too fast. Unfortunately, your problems are not over.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems that Dougal made no mystery of his intentions regarding his will and the news of your new fortune has spread fast. Master McDuff tells me that a number of local lairds of all ages and importance were seen lurking around Crois Dhubh in the last two weeks, biding their time like the vultures they are while Dougal lay abed.”

“That’s awful!” Bethan was appalled. How the men thought she would even consider marrying anyone who showed such cynicism was beyond her.

“Some asked to pay their respects to you yesterday after the funeral but were told you were resting. Most pretended to understand, but one was rather insistent. I need not tell you that your reputation as an extraordinarily beautiful woman, however old you may think you are, is only adding to your appeal.” The corner of his mouth curled up.

“So, it seems that you will have to fend potential suitors off rather than try to lure them in.”

Well.

Bethan stared at her feet, speechless. What a spectacular reversal of fortune.

She was a rich woman and free from a marriage she had never desired.

Even more importantly, she was now in a position to marry whomever she chose—and apparently, candidates were already tripping over themselves to get to her. It was a lot to take in.

“I will need some time to think,” she murmured.

“Of course.” Cameron stood up. “Take all the time you need.”

A moment later, she was alone in the chapel.

It did not take Bethan long to see that Cameron had been right about her problems having just started.

The next day, no fewer than three visitors came sniffing about, two of which were old enough to be her father and rather rough-looking.

The youngest one had been so bold that she had barely noticed his fair countenance.

At least the two oldest ones had been respectful.

But Donald McDonald—the name alone would have been enough to disqualify him had she been of a mind to take his pursuit seriously—had found himself alone with her when master McDuff had unexpectedly been called away shortly after bringing him to her.

It hadn’t taken the man long to launch himself into an impassioned speech about her radiant beauty.

When she’d told him she had no intention to think about marriage so soon after Dougal’s demise, he had simply pounced on her.

She wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to achieve by raping her—compromise a woman he assumed to be a virgin so that she had no choice but to marry him or simply punish her for refusing him—but for a short but very real moment she had been scared out of her wits.

This had been a real assault, nothing like the misunderstanding at the tavern. McDonald had known who she was all along, and his intent had been crystal clear. There had been no bawdy jests, no entreaties. He had simply thrown her to the ground and lain on top of her, ready to take his pleasure.

“No!”

“Aye.”

And with that word, he’d kissed her. Dear Lord, how was she to get out of this? He was far too strong and determined for her to hope stopping him.

In the end it was Murdo who came to her rescue.

He must have heard the cry of protest she’d made before McDonald had crushed his mouth on hers because he burst into the solar, intent written all over his rugged face. He already knew what he would find in the room.

What was probably a frightful curse left his lips right before he grabbed the younger man by the arm and throat.

A moment later, Bethan was free. Pinning her attacker to the wall as if he weighed no more than a child, Murdo unleashed his fury on to him.

Bethan wasn’t sure the man would survive if she did not intervene so she scrambled back to her feet as best she could and stumbled to the wall.

“Leave him. Please.” She would not have anyone killed on her account, no matter how vile they were.

“Give me one good reason not to strangle him.”

For more safety, she gave him two. “You stopped him in time. And I don’t want trouble between your two clans.”

“Aye, well, he should have thought of that before he attacked you.”

“Please.” To her horror, she was feeling her resolve waver.

Why shouldn’t Murdo strangle the man? Why did he deserve to be shown mercy when he’d ignored her protests, made the most of the fact that he happened to be the stronger of the two to rape her?

What had happened had not happened by accident.

Her attacker had meant to pounce, to take her, to hurt her.

Why should he not be punished? No one had forced him to assault her, and she had made her feelings clear.

As if he’d sensed her hesitation and wanted to spare her a decision she would only regret later, Murdo released the McDonald laird. “God knows why the lady would want to spare your sorry hide, but you had better make sure you and I don’t cross paths ever again, you piece of shite.”

With those words, he threw him down the stairs head first. Bethan cried out in horror.

How was the man supposed to survive such a fall?

Surely a lifeless corpse would be the only thing Master McDuff would find.

But a moment later she saw the McDonald hobble back to the horse tethered in the bailey down below.

He was not dead, even if he might be bruised all over.

Still trembling from shock at what had happened, or rather what could have happened, she slid onto the stone bench, as limp as water-logged seaweed.

This had been the most horrifying attack, and she was lucky to have escaped unscathed. As was her attacker.

“Thank you, Murdo. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He nodded briefly. “That’s quite all right. The bastard had it coming. I’ve never been able to stand him. Are you all right, my lady?”

Bethan gave him a wan smile. No matter how many times Cameron and herself told the men she had no right to the title, they persisted in calling her “my lady.” It never failed to amuse her.

To think they had refused to believe her when she had claimed to be a lady that night at the tavern…

It now seemed a decade ago. Since then, she had come to see that the men in the retinue were as good as Cameron had promised her.

It did not surprise her, as he would never surround himself with scoundrels.

“I’m all right, thank you.” She paused. “With your permission, though, we will not tell the laird what happened.”

For a while it looked as if Murdo would argue. Then he let out a sigh. “Aye, you’re right, since he’s likely to kill the man for the offense.”

Bethan recoiled. Would he really do such a thing as kill a man in cold blood?

As Murdo had seen the attack, his heated reaction might be explained, but if Cameron did anything against Donald McDonald now, it would be nothing less than murder.

Surely he wouldn’t go to such lengths? The risk of him killing a man had not been the reason she wanted the secret kept.

Rather, she felt foolish for not having been able to prevent the assault, and she thought Cameron had done enough for her already.

Still, she nodded, deciding it was best not to tempt fate.

Murdo wouldn’t have spoken thus if he didn’t think it a likely outcome. He knew his laird better than she did.

“Please, don’t tell him.”

“I won’t. Here. Have a drink. It will help.”

Bethan gratefully drank the ale he’d poured her. Once the cup was empty, she felt much better. When her gaze met Murdo’s, the words she’d been trying to repress burst through her lips. “I swear I told him I did not want?—”

He did not let her finish. “I have no doubt you did. But some men’s brains and ears don’t seem to function properly once their cocks—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, my lady. Once they’ve, erm, decided they want a woman.”

Yes. While others would never force anyone, even a whore. This was the chance to put the incident outside the tavern at rest and establish once and for all that she had nothing to fear from Cameron’s men. “What would you do if a woman you wanted to bed didn’t want you?”

“I would make sure to double my efforts at seducing her.” He winked, as if to indicate he did not doubt the result he would achieve.

“And if she still refused you?”

He scowled, glancing to the wall where a moment ago he had pinned McDonald.

He thought she was talking about what had just happened.

She wasn’t. “Then I would see to my needs myself,” he growled.

“Pardon my crudeness again, but surely you must know that I would never take a woman who didn’t want me? ”

“Even if you were drunk?”

Another scowl. “I’m never that drunk.”

“Even if she was a— Even if she was a w…” She didn’t manage to say it, but Murdo understood.

“A whore is still a woman, free to choose, is she not? If she really didn’t want me, or my coin, then I’d have no choice but to use my—” He stopped abruptly and frowned. “Wait. Why are you asking me all this?”

“No reason.” Damn and blast, she had to stop this, or he would get suspicious. “I guess I needed to see not all men would behave like McDonald just did.”

His face tightened. “You can be assured of it. I’m telling you true, my lady, only despicable weasels would attack a woman thus. And I’m not a weasel.”

“No, you’re not. Well, thank you.”

Tears started to sting her eyes as soon as Murdo closed the door behind him. Was this what her life would be from now on? Would she have to fend off attacks from men who wanted to possess her, in order to get to her new fortune? What a frightful prospect that was.

Bethan stayed in the solar, staring through the window until it was too dark to see anything.