Page 24 of A Scot for Bethan
“Is it? It’s possible. I’ll admit that I wasn’t paying too much attention to what she was saying,” Cameron confided, leaning in toward her.
“How rude of you!” She made a point of chiding him but secretly, she was pleased the woman interested him so little that he didn’t even remember her name.
“Aye. Positively scandalous.” He straightened back up and crossed his arms over his chest—his very broad, perfect chest. “But tell me, apart from maces, what did our friend Sir Alan talk to you about?”
She reddened, understanding what he was trying to do. “Very well. You’ve made your point. I did not attend to what he was saying either.” She guessed, rather than saw, Cameron’s smirk. “You know, you should give me some advice about how to get rid of undesirable suitors, seeing as you are quite the expert at it. Whatdoyou do to repel them?”
Instead of answering he eyed her up a long moment. “Whatever I do would be of no use to you I’m afraid, Bethan.”
Again, the use of her name, like a warm caress on her senses. She could not find it in herself to protest, even if she perhaps should. It felt right to hear him use it.
“Why is that?”
“Because for a set down to work, you have to mean it and I’m afraid that you do not have a ruthless bone in your delectable little body.” Delectable? She barely had time to absorb the impact of the word before he carried on. “You are also far too concerned by what people might think and what is proper to be honest. Fortunately, I don’t suffer from the same problem.” His mouth twitched, an obvious attempt at hiding a smile.
“You’re right,” she mumbled, feeling dejected. She did not have what it took. “I’m too weak to make it work.”
“That’s not quite what I said. And I do not think you weak, not in the least.”
She was taken aback by the comment. He seemed to say that she shouldn’t change the way she was, even if it meant that she could not get rid of undesirable people when she needed it. This, right after he had called her body delectable, was enough to transform her insides into gruel.
“I’m easily embarrassed,” she clarified, “something I know couldn’t happen to you.”
“Why is that?”
Cameron was curious. Bethan had given his character a lot of thought, if she thought she knew what could or not could happen to him. The notion pleased him, because he, too, had spent a lot of time thinking about her in the last week. It was the first time they were talking so openly. He had explained to her why he hadn’t wanted to become laird the other night, but this felt a lot more personal. They were discussing their characters, not their role in life. The distinction seemed important.
“I don’t think you have much time for fools. If someone annoys you, like McBain, you turn them away in no uncertain terms.” Was it a note of envy he detected in her voice? Perhaps. “Although, come to think of it, I suspect it would take a lot to upset you.”
“Mm,” he groaned. “You might be right there.”
He wasn’t particularly pleased by her observation, even if it was fair. Somehow it made him appear cold-hearted, which he hoped he was not. Her thinking of him as a remote, unfeeling individual was the last thing he wanted, because with her—toward her—he felt plenty.
But he realized she had meant the comment as a compliment, when she hastened to add, “You’re lucky to be able to ignore what people think of you, is what I mean, and be honest. I wish I could do that.”
“Maybe you overestimate my ability. I have been known to care about what people think on occasion.”
He certainly cared about she thought of him.
“Oh. So, you are not as immune to criticism and self-doubt as we might think?” The idea seemed to please her.
“Of course not.”
“And what sort of a man is my…Dougal?” she asked suddenly.
My Dougal. Though she hadn’t meant it like that, Cameron’s stiffened. The idea of Bethan leaving him to be married sent the now familiar shards of ice through his gut. The closer they came to Crois Dhubh the more unsettled he got.
“What are you asking? Are you afraid of meeting him?” It would make sense. His nephew was a stranger to her.
“Not precisely, but…” But she was. Her eyes were gleaming in the moonlight when she finally dared look at him. Say what she might, shewaswary of what she would find in Scotland, understandably. “You know him. So, tell me. Should I be afraid of him?”
Dear God, he had to reassure her immediately. He could not imagine how he would feel in her place. She was about to meet a man who would effectively own her in the eyes of the law, and there was nothing she could do about it. Dougal could be a vicious tyrant and still there would be no escaping him. He could want to make her pay for not being the bride of his choice, he could slake his lust with her body night after night regardless of her wishes, he could hit her if she displeased him, and no one would be able to say anything. Well, he was laird, damn it,hewould make sure he did say something if he ever saw her husband mistreating her. It was not just a question of honor, it was not just that he had promised her brother to look after her, it was…personal.
But he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. As much as he disliked the idea of Bethan being married to his nephew, he knew he was not a bad man. It was only that he was not the man for her.
“You have nothing to be afraid of. Dougal is not a dangerous man. But I’m afraid he is not…” His voice trailed. What could he tell her? His nephew would never hurt her, granted, but he would never make her happy either. She needed a man, andDougal was just a boy, full of dreams of grandeur and lacking the capacity to make them come true, unable to take care of a wife. “He’s only twenty, so he can be forgiven for being a bit naïve sometimes,” he finally said, deciding there was no point in being too honest. She would see the reality soon enough.
“I’m one and twenty, only a year older,” she pointed out.
