Page 42 of A Scot for Bethan (The Welsh Rebels #6)
“ L ittle Callum is such a beautiful child.”
“He is.”
Bethan beamed at William, who looked slightly at a loss now that her son had woken up and held out her hands.
Relieved, her friend handed her the baby back and sat down in the chair opposite her.
He had been here for a week, having come for a visit as soon as he had heard about the birth of his godson.
His presence had been all the more appreciated as Cameron had gone to visit the neighboring clan and she was missing him dreadfully.
“But then I suppose it is no wonder he should be a beauty, considering how good his father looks.”
“Thank you!” Bethan gave a tinkling laugh and placed a kiss on the baby’s soft hair.
Indeed, her son was, as predicted, “the loveliest bairn anyone has ever seen”—and a boy.
No matter, she meant to try until she gave her husband the daughters he was dreaming of.
Not that either of them had complained at being handed a son when Callum had been born.
“I know where I stand. Callum’s beauty is to be wholly attributed to Cameron. I will not?—”
“Who dares utter such nonsense?” a husky voice interrupted, coming from the doorway.
Her heart skipped a beat, as it did every time she set eyes on her husband. She could tell from his disheveled hair that he had rushed back to reach Nead an Diabhail—and his family—before dark.
“Cameron! You’re back!”
He walked in and placed a kiss on her temple before giving little Callum a caress on the cheek. The child was now a month old, his parents’ pride and joy.
“My son is indeed beautiful, but it has nothing to do with me. He’s the image of my wife, and any fool can see it.”
“Are you calling me a fool?” William asked with mock outrage.
“What if I were? Will you take issue with it?”
“I dare not. Your skill with the sword far exceeds mine.”
A laugh. “It does. That’s what experience does for you, pup. Though you have nothing to fear from me. I would never attempt anything against my wife’s dearest friend, as well you know,” he added with a smile.
“Indeed I do. I have your eternal gratitude.” William was model of resignation.
“How about I prove it to you by suggesting that my squire help you improve your footwork while you’re in Scotland?
I taught him myself and he’s very good. He should be able to show you what you need.
In turn, you could help with his English which, at the moment, is only very basic.
I know he would like to visit England some time. ”
“Alasdair, you mean?” Bethan enquired, suddenly understanding what her husband was trying to do. “The one everyone says looks just like you?”
“Aye. I have lost count of how many times I’ve been asked if he is not my bastard half-brother.” There was a mischievous glint in her husband’s eye she knew only too well. “Indeed, he is similar to me in almost every way.”
“ Almost every way?” William stood up, hope making his voice hoarse.
“Aye, as he seems to have no interest in marrying and producing bairns. I wonder why that might be.”
“I can think of a few very valid reasons. Well, I suppose it is time I started improving my footwork, so I’d better go find him.”
William took his leave without another word, leaving Cameron and Bethan to laugh at the success of their little scheme. Would that her friend finally found the man for him, like she had found the one for her…
“How is my son? I’ve missed him, you know,” Cameron said, coming to kneel at her feet. She handed him the babe, who fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. The bond between father and son had been strong from the start.
“He’s happy and content. Growing stronger by the day.”
“Good. How about his mother? I’ve missed her too.”
“Now, she has been pining after her husband and growing more impatient by the day. He’s been gone for far too long.”
He smiled. “It’s been four days, Ealasaid.”
She smiled back. “As I said. Far too long. William is good company during the day but he’s useless at night. Only one person can give me what I need.”
“Aye?” The gray eyes flashed. “And who is that, I wonder?”
Bethan kissed him as passionately as she was able. “You. My Scot.”