Page 41 of A Scot for Bethan
“Please, let us leave while they…” She glanced at the couple who were now on the ground, tearing at each other’s clothes. This was definitely not a rape, Morag was just as eager as her abductor to consummate this union. The men in the clearing let out lecherous grunts when one of her breasts was revealed. “While they are busy,” she finished, averting her gaze. This was sickening.
“An excellent idea.”
Cameron silently led her back to the horses. A moment later they were galloping away on the south road, confident no one was after them.
“I guess I should be grateful to Morag for making the task of saving you from Malcolm McDonald a lot easier than I had anticipated,” he said when they slowed down to a trot to allow the horses to breathe.
Yes, Bethan supposed she should be grateful too, but the whole scene had been nauseating, and she hated being taken for what she was not, even if the misunderstanding was of little consequence. But really, was she forever destined to be mistaken for a whore?
“Are you sure Angus and Murdo will be all right? I would hate for them to be hurt on my account.”
“Aye. At two against twelve, they can pose no threat to anyone, and it was clear they were in no state to fight. The McDonalds have captured the prize they wanted, or so they think, so they won’t bother about them. Instead, they will leave for the kirk as soon as…possible.”
As soon as Malcolm had reached his pleasure, he meant. Bethan swallowed hard. The day had not turned out quite how she expected it to.
“In a way, by giving them tainted food, it could be argued that Morag saved the two men’s lives,” she mused. Had the twowarriors been able to stand their ground, their attackers might have thought it safer to kill them.
“It could. And she provided the perfect distraction. Thank the Lord for her greed and cunning.” Cameron nudged his horse back into a canter. “Come. Let us try to reach Loch Rannoch before nightfall.”
Chapter Thirteen
That 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. Didheregret what had happened? Nay. Didhefeel 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 hehave 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 decidedlynotnothing. 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 hadseen 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!
