Page 36 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)

Chapter Fifteen

T here she was, sitting on a wooden bench, alone, staring into the distance, her profile pure and delicate against the backdrop of burned leaves and swirling skies.

Cameron drank her in. How he had missed her, how precious she was to him, doubly so now that he’d been told about the bairn she was about to give him.

She had changed clothes since that morning and was now wearing a simple woolen gown and a tight wimple.

An odd choice for a young, unmarried woman, one who never wore veils.

It framed her face completely, covering even her forehead and cheeks.

In the severe headdress she looked like a widow.

Still achingly beautiful.

His gaze dropped to her stomach, but he could not detect any swelling under the heavy folds of her gown.

It was early days yet, but perhaps she would feel different under his palm.

As soon as she allowed him to draw her into his arms, he would splay his hands over her belly and meet his child.

The thought was so dizzying he had to brace himself against the stone wall for fear he would collapse.

A child with Bethan… Only a few days ago he’d not imagined she would ever be his wife and here he was, about to become a father—and a husband.

He cleared his throat, causing her to turn to face him. Panic flared in her eyes, followed by something else. Desire? Hope?

Not wanting her to balk again, he stayed where he was and waited for her to speak.

“Cameron.”

He took a step forward. The cold tone was not exactly encouraging. But at least she had not called him “Laird Campbell.” It was something.

“Ealasaid, you?—”

“Don’t call me that.”

It was the first time she had prevented him from using his special name for her and it stung. But he understood why she would feel raw, so he kept silent.

She stood up, eyes flashing. “What are you doing here? How did you convince William to tell you where I was?” She shook her head, in anger or disappointment, he wasn’t sure quite which. “I swear I will gut him for this.”

There it was, the threat he’d been warned about.

Should he lie, protect the man from her ire, pretend he’d found her here on his own? No. There would be no misunderstanding between them from now on, no lies. Besides, he wanted her to know he had come with her friend’s full agreement.

“I didn’t need to convince him. He told me of his own accord where you were, since he, like me, is of the opinion that we should talk.

He also told me to beg you not to gut him for doing so, a wise precaution, apparently, since you’ve already promised to do just that.

So I’m begging you. Please don’t gut him. ”

To his relief, her mouth quivered. Maybe all hope was not lost…

If they could only talk, if he could only explain, if she could only trust him, if they could only recapture what had once been between them, then all would be well.

There was no other choice, anyway. It was not just about the two of them now.

They had their child to consider. The bairn needed them, both of them.

“Why did you flee that day, leaving me without a word of reassurance as to your whereabouts?” he asked, taking another step forward. “I worried myself sick, wondering what had happened to you, imagining the worst.”

She had the good grace to appear guilty. “I know, I’m sorry but I had to leave. After what you did…”

“What was that? Ask you to marry me?” It was hard not to sound accusatory, but he still felt the sting of her rejection keenly.

She had thought him as despicable as those rogues who wanted her fortune, not the woman she was, and it had hurt.

True, he had not proclaimed his undying love when he’d offered to marry her, but there were worst slights to inflict on a woman than to tell her he would take responsibility for what he’d done.

“Yes.”

Bethan could not forget—or forgive—that Cameron had come to her only once she had become a rich woman.

As coincidences went, this one was hard to swallow.

While they had ridden to Scotland, and she was of no consequence, he had not allowed his desire for her to overwhelm him, even though it had been obvious she shared it.

Though she had to agree he felt something for the woman she was, rather than merely wanting the fortune she could bring him, it was hard not to conclude that he’d been swayed as much by her newfound fortune as by any affection he felt for her.

And after the disaster of her betrothal to Dougal, she hadn’t wanted to marry for any reason other than love.

Alas, as could have been predicted, that luxury had been denied to her.

Because she had fallen with child from her encounters with the fiery Scot.

William had walked in on her one morning, emptying the contents of her stomach in the lists.

When the same thing had happened three times in a row, there had been no hiding what was ailing her.

Her friend had provided the support she had needed, uttering no judgment, offering to make her his wife without delay, even if people would guess that he could not be the father of this baby.

He had made her see that he was her only hope at respectability and she’d been grateful for his offer.

They weren’t in love, admittedly, but at least they had the honesty to acknowledge it, and life with him would be more pleasant than with most men.

“You ken very well what motivated my offer of marriage,” Cameron said, taking another step toward her.

He was being very careful, as if he thought her a timid doe who could bolt at any time, not an unreasonable thought, she had to admit.

She was fighting the urge to flee again and avoid the painful conversation.

“I do know what prompted your offer. And we both know it was not love.”

He made a face she had difficulty interpreting. For a moment he looked on the verge of contradicting her, then he shook his head. “It was not greed either, unlike what you seemed to believe. I care not about your fortune.”

“No.”

At least she had the honesty to acknowledge this. He’d wanted to give the babe she might have conceived a name. It was an honorable intention, but she had the weakness of wanting more, of wanting to be chosen for herself, not because duty dictated he should marry her.

Honorable to the core and putting duty before pleasure.

That was how he had described himself the day he had told her he’d not wanted to be laird, and his whole life had proved it.

Well, she didn’t want to be another burden he’d had to shoulder because there were no other options.

It would only destroy whatever had started to bloom between them.

She could only congratulate herself on having had the presence of mind to pretend there was no chance she could fall with child that day, otherwise there would be no stopping him from marrying her now that she was indeed with child.

Thank the Lord he had come to find her now, and not in three months’ time, when it would have been impossible to hide her swollen stomach, or in the new year, when he might have found her with the babe at her breast.

Married or not, he would have bundled her up and whisked her away, straight back to Nead an Diabhail.

But why had he come at all? That was what she didn’t understand.

She had thought never to see him again. After finding her gone, she’d imagined he would go back to Scotland, and forget he’d ever met a Welshwoman who’d been supposed to marry his nephew.

What did he hope to achieve by coming all the way here?

How had he even known where she was? Did it matter?

No. It was too late anyway. She had found a solution to her predicament, and she would not allow anyone to steer her away from the path she had chosen.

“In any case, soon I will not have to worry about any of that,” she said, stiffening her spine. “I will be a married woman. I will be safe. Men will stop coveting my newfound fortune and lusting after me.”

“Don’t be so na?ve. As Lady Parry, your fortune will indeed be out of reach but that will not stop men from pursuing you.

Married or not, you will still draw them like a flame draws moths,” Cameron said with more feeling that she had ever heard in his voice.

“You are an extraordinarily beautiful woman, Ealasaid, and you know it. Having a husband might protect you from unwanted marriage proposals, but men will always lust after you. You told me they did when you were a virgin, and betrothed, they won’t stop now that you cannot be ruined anymore, quite the opposite.

Forgive me for saying as much, but you chose the worst husband to keep suitors at bay.

Everyone will know you do not have a true marriage.

Giving you what Sir William will never be able to give you will be too great a temptation to resist.”

Bethan bit her bottom lip. He was right, unfortunately.

She had attracted men’s attention when she had been supposedly out of reach.

Things would not change just because she had become Lady Parry.

It was as Cameron had said. Her future husband’s preferences were not quite as secret as she’d hoped, and men would know she did not get fulfillment in her marital bed.

They would see it as a personal challenge to try and show her what she was missing.

But she had a weapon at her disposal now, a weapon no one but William knew about.

“Men have lusted after me in the past, but they won’t any longer, not with this.” She tore at her wimple in a violent gesture, exposing her right cheek. “Look at me now and tell me I am an extraordinarily beautiful woman if you dare!”