Page 30 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)

Chapter Thirteen

T hat night and the following nights, they slept in a clearing in the woods.

To Cameron’s delight, Bethan seemed to enjoy sleeping outdoors as much as he did and she never complained about the lack of comfort or the fact that she had no maid to assist her.

This trip was even more enjoyable than the one up to Scotland had been because they were on their own and, unlike then, he didn’t feel he was doing anything wrong.

Reassured no one was after them, they were able to enjoy a leisurely pace.

The only thing that would have made the moment even better would have been spending their nights making love.

But an odd shyness had seemed to settle between them.

Bethan was no longer looking at him the way she had, with barely disguised longing.

Cameron wasn’t sure why that might be. Perhaps she wanted to be sure all her troubles were over before relaxing her guard, perhaps she could not forget how the night had ended the last time they had made love, when she had been attacked, and she needed time to get over the trauma.

Perhaps now that she had slaked the lust he stirred within her, she felt able to move on.

Or perhaps she regretted having surrendered to the desire she’d felt for him.

These last two explanations tore at his gut, but he forced himself to be reasonable.

He couldn’t think like that. It would only bring him pain as he was not sure what the reason for the change in her was anyway.

Did he regret what had happened? Nay. Did he feel ready to move on to his next conquests?

Nay. He couldn’t wait for the next time Bethan allowed him to touch her.

He would just have to wait until she was ready.

One morning they woke up surrounded by a thick fog.

Up until then the weather had been glorious, and they had not had to worry about cold, rain or even wind, quite a feat considering the season.

Today, it was most decidedly cold, and rain didn’t seem far away.

Bethan shivered and tightened her cloak around her.

In the eerie, muffled atmosphere, everything seemed different.

Even her mood seemed different, more subdued.

She seemed lost in thought, almost dejected.

He hated it and he kept wondering if he had done something wrong.

But no matter how much he tried to, he couldn’t think of anything.

“I realize I never thanked you for saving me that night in the bedchamber,” he heard her say as he leaned to reach the saddle bag containing the loaf of bread they had bought the previous day. “Without you I would be McDonald’s wife by now.”

Bethan married to that bastard against her will? At his mercy night after night? The thought wrenched a growl out of Cameron. “You don’t need to thank me. I was glad to be there.”

For the tenth time he congratulated himself on having chosen that night to make her his.

Resisting temptation for another day would not only have been foolish, but it could have had disastrous consequences.

She would have been alone, at the mercy of McDonald and his men, for he had never thought she was in danger while within Crois Dhubh.

He’d told her himself that a few lairds had started sniffing around, but how could he have guessed any would be so treacherous as to sneak in at night to abduct her?

And how had they done it? Even though the place was not as well guarded as it should be, the men would have had to have inside help to manage the intrusion so discreetly.

He hoped Angus and Murdo would have found out more by the time he got back.

Anger simmering, he chewed on his piece of bread.

“I should have guessed he would not be so easily defeated,” Bethan said next, almost to herself.

Defeated? What was she talking about? How could she have guessed anyone would come find her in her room in the middle of the night? These were despicable methods only a scoundrel would have anticipated. If he had not thought about it, how could she have? Unless…

“Had you met the man before, then?”

Master McDuff had told him she’d received three visitors the day before the attack, he now remembered. Had McDonald been one of them? Had he threatened to come to her in the night? And if so, why had she not mentioned it?

“I…’Tis nothing.”

The hairs at the back of Cameron’s neck started to prickle.

His every instinct told him that it was most decidedly not nothing.

For one, she had gone bright red, for another she looked as if she regretted having made the comment.

She was hiding something, that much was obvious. Something he would hate to hear.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” His face must have made it clear she had better not ignore his question because she carried on, averting her gaze. “He had come to Crois Dhubh the day before along with two other lairds, and he pressed his suit on me, most forcefully.”

Most forcefully. She meant he had pounced on her. An image suddenly tore through his mind. The scratch on her neck he had seen the morning after the lairds’ visit. She had not hurt herself trying to put on a veil, like she’d claimed, she been attacked by McDonald, damn the man’s eyes!

“Did he?—”

“No. Murdo stopped him, and there was no reason to think he would want to?—”

This time Cameron shot to his feet. Had he heard that right? Murdo had known about the assault, and he’d not told him anything? What the hell was going on here? Didn’t he think his laird had the right to know something like that? “I’ll kill him for keeping such a thing secret from me!”

“You will no such thing!” Bethan protested, standing up in turn. “If you are going to take issue with anyone, it will have to be me. I asked him to keep silent; he did nothing wrong.”

“Is that supposed to appease me?” he roared.

“I am his laird, he should have told me, regardless of what you made him swear. If I’d known what had happened, that bastard McDonald would not have been able to sneak inside the castle that night, this much I can tell you.

Had I been warned, I would have put a man outside your door to keep guard, I would have told everyone to— Fuck, Bethan!

I would not have had you assaulted a second time for the world! ”

He tore at his hair. Couldn’t she see how much of a blow this was for him? She was under his care, how was he supposed to ensure her safety if he wasn’t told what the situation was?

“I was not assaulted a second time,” Bethan said soothingly. Maybe she had seen how affected he was, and no wonder. He was fuming. “He only grabbed my ankle that night. And like the first time, he was stopped before anything could happen. You protected me. There’s no harm done.”

No harm done… That was where they disagreed. Pity the bastard was now dead. Cameron would have liked nothing better than to kill him a second time for what he’d done.

Bethan placed a tentative hand on his arm. He took a step back. He could not bear her touch, not now. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to shake her for keeping such a secret from him or tumble her to the ground to kiss her senseless. Neither would be wise.

“Any more secrets you’re keeping from me?” he asked bitterly. He’d thought after an unpromising start, that they had come to trust one another. Why had she wanted to keep such a thing from him? “Like why you do not seem to want to touch me anymore?”

She reddened. “I… To tell you the truth I thought you didn’t want me . You haven’t tried to kiss me or anything for days.”

No, he had not, because he was no fool and neither was he a lecher like McDonald, who was not above ignoring a woman’s wishes to get his way.

He could sense she would resist this time if he drew her into his arms, so he had kept his hands to himself.

But after the revelation she had just made, he was wondering if she was not hiding something else from him.

Something terrible. And he didn’t like it one little bit.

He stuffed the bread back in the bag, his appetite having quite deserted him.

“Let’s ride.”

The day was spent in a somewhat tense atmosphere, and Cameron knew it was not due to the mist which continued to follow them.

“You still haven’t told me what you were doing that night at the tavern,” he told her that evening, once they had sat down next to a roaring fire.

Bethan had evaded the question once and he had allowed her to, but he needed an answer now. After all they had gone through together, and their night of passion, they were no longer strangers. And after this morning’s revelation he needed to see she trusted him with her secrets.

Besides, there was no reason for her to be shy. He suspected her visit had something to do with a man, and since he now knew about her lovers, there was no need to keep silent.

After a brief hesitation she answered.

“I had gone to see Mistress Elen. Working with…well, with women who sell their bodies, she knows all there is to know about preventing conception.”

He nodded. He’d already guessed she would take precautions, as the last thing she would have wanted was going to the altar with a swollen stomach. It was one thing pretending to still be untouched, quite another to explain away a child.

A child…

Cameron stiffened when a thought struck him. Had she used the woman’s skill to rid herself of an unwanted baby? It was very possible. A woman taking lovers as she did could all too easily have fallen with child, perhaps even more than once.

“Did Mistress Elen ever help you get rid of an unborn babe?”

“No!” Bethan looked so horrified that he instantly knew she was telling the truth. He took in a deep breath, reassured. “I swear I never conceived, thanks to the draughts she gave me every full moon. That evening, I had gone to tell her I was leaving for Scotland.”

And wouldn’t require her services anymore.

His heart leaped to his throat as another, shocking thought exploded in his mind.