Page 17 of A Scot for Bethan
Later that night, comfortably settled in a shallow depression dug by Murdo, covered with Hamish’s own blanket, which he had insisted be hers to use for the rest of the trip, Bethan reflected on the danger of false first impressions. A few days ago, she would have sworn the group of rough-looking men were nothing but dangerous lechers, a danger to women. She now knew they were nothing of the sort.
Would Dougal be as thoughtful as Angus, who’d gone out of his way to tempt her palate? As efficient as Murdo, who had seen to her comfort before she’d even realized what she needed? As attractive as his uncle, who made her heart beat faster every time she set eyes on him? If he was, then this union might not be such a disaster. For the first time since she’d been told she was going to marry a Scot, Bethan felt some measure of hope.
It was not long before she fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Five
“Please, my laird, sit.”
“I thank you.”
Cameron sat down next to Sir Patrick, Bethan to his right. Indeed, a hot meal would be most welcome. For three nights on a row the retinue had slept under the stars, and eaten what food they could purchase in the villages but today the weather had forced them to find refuge in a nearby castle.
Sir Patrick, who owned the place, had been delighted to welcome a retinue of strong-looking men under his roof.
“’Tis my niece’s christening the day after tomorrow and we are in sore need of men to keep company to—and most especially dance with—my numerous daughters, sisters, nieces, and cousins. My family has been blessed with a surfeit of beautiful women, you see.”
The man, a jovial individual two decades his senior, let out a short laugh. Cameron took an instant liking to him. He was calling the women beautiful, and he’d used the word “blessed” when many others might have said “cursed.” Men, as a rule, wanted sons to succeed them, warriors to advance their family’s prestige in battles. Cameron, however, had always thought hewould like nothing more than being surrounded by sweet-smelling, mischievous daughters. After a lifetime spent dealing with rowdy, somewhat unkempt Campbell men, he was ready for a change.
“A blessing, indeed,” he murmured, not wishing to dwell on the thought of himself holding a bairn in his arms one day.
“Yes. The only drawback is that we men are sadly outnumbered at family events,” Sir Patrick continued, before letting out another chuckle. “But we need not be today. Your presence here is quite providential. Please say you will stay and attend the banquet on Saturday. A couple of days delay cannot hurt, surely?”
Cameron shook his head in surrender. Seeing as the whole world seemed intent on making a mockery of his resolve to spend as little time as possible with Bethan, he might as well surrender graciously.
“Of course. We’ll be delighted to repay your generosity by providing the women company on Saturday,” he agreed when Bethan nodded her own assent.
The men, as could have been expected, had been only too happy to comply, and so it had been decided.
This having been settled, Sir Patrick gave his orders to the servants and soon, the smell of freshly cooked bread and meat roasted with spices filled the hall. Aye, their meeting with their host was propitious indeed. The rain could be heard hammering down in the bailey, making it clear they were better off around a table, enjoying a hearty meal, than sleeping outside in the woods.
As Sir Patrick and his wife shared their trencher, Cameron found himself sharing his with Bethan. It was not the first time he’d eaten in proximity to a woman at a feast, of course, but this time it felt disturbingly intimate.
The way she was enjoying her meal stirred something inside him. She was taking her time, smelling the pottage before bringing the spoon to her lips, eyeing up the slice of suckling pig before taking her first bite. When the taste of the spiced meat hit her tongue, her eyes fluttered. Later, when she bit into her pigeon pie, she groaned in delight. The sound of that groan shot straight to his cock. It was clear that, for her, eating was a deeply sensual experience. If she behaved like this when she was eating, it would definitely be worth finding out what she was like in bed.
Cameron’s fingers tightened on his knife handle. He had to stop this, he couldnotentertain such thoughts about his nephew’s betrothed, no matter how much she attracted him, no matter how long they were forced to remain in each other’s company. Perhaps he should take the opportunity of this halt at the castle to bed a wench or two, cool the blood roaring in his veins in the hope that he would be able to be more sensible afterward. There were a few buxom servants milling about, who seemed delighted by the arrival of a retinue of Scots. Judging from the way they eyed him up, he would not find it hard to find a willing partner while he was here. But, alas, none of the women held any interest for him.
The only one he wanted in his arms was the only one he had no right to, the one sitting so close to him that their knees brushed every time they moved.
The meal soon drew to a close. Cameron let out a sigh of relief and frustration combined as he stood up. His body was tense, but his appetite for food, at least, had been well satisfied. The custard pies, in particular, had been exquisite, cinnamon having been liberally dusted onto the top. This bode well for the banquet to come.
“I would like to go for a stroll if I may, seeing that the rain has finally stopped,” Bethan declared, standing up in turn. “We haven’t had much opportunity to walk of late.”
Indeed, being on horseback all day, they had not been able to stretch their legs. Whenever they stopped, Cameron preferred not to let her wander out of sight and, to her credit, she had not complained. One never knew who or what might lurk in the shadows. But here, within the castle walls, she would be safe, so he nodded his agreement.
Instead of heading for the door, as he had expected, she tilted her head expectantly. “Won’t you accompany me, my laird?”
He stared at her in disbelief. It wasn’t just the whole world who was conspiring to keep them together, it was Bethan herself. How could he fight if that were the case?
“Aye,” he said, before offering his arm. Out of nowhere, his words from a few days ago came back to him.
Surrendering to a beautiful woman’s will feels like the sweetest victory.
He’d been talking about bedsport, of course, but that statement could apply to what was happening right now. She was more than beautiful—and he was surrendering to her desire to go for a stroll, unwise as it was.
Bethan took the arm Cameron was offering with a thudding heart. What had possessed her to ask him to accompany her? Couldn’t she have gone for a stroll on her own? It would have been the sensible thing to do. But she could not resist stealing a private moment with him because for once they didn’t have anything to do other than talk. There were no fires to tend to, no horses to feed, no danger to look out for.
They retrieved their cloaks and exited the hall.
