Page 45 of A Scot for Bethan
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think she has. I received a letter from Connor two days ago. He would have mentioned it if she had appeared out of nowhere. In fact, I’m surprised to hear you asking about her. We all thought she was in Scotland with her husband.”
“Aye. Of course.”
There it was. His last hope, had gone up in smoke. No one from her family seemed to have heard of her. What did it mean? Was she safe, and hiding somewhere he couldn’t think of? Hadshe gone to her brother? Or was she dead, as he’d feared many times?
Lord, please let her not be dead.
He fell on the bench behind him, all efforts at hiding his emotions gone. If Bethan was really dead, then he didn’t know how he would bear it. He had missed her terribly these last three months. Missed her and ranted against her. Damn her for being cruel enough to disappear without a trace and causing him endless worry, for being too stubborn to see that he had done nothing wrong by offering to marry her if she was with child. What else should he have done? Leave her to deal with his lack of control alone? Force her to bear the shame of giving birth to a bastard child?
Of course, he had offered to do the honorable thing, how could he not? But she had assumed the worst of him, misunderstanding his motives. Instead of acknowledging that their lovemaking had been inevitable, given the heat that had sparked between them from the moment they had met, she had accused him of bedding her to trap her into a union she didn’t want, of being no better than those McDonald whoresons. How could she think that, never mind say it out loud? Hadn’t she felt the connection between them? Hadn’t she given herself to him wholeheartedly?
The wretched woman. He had no idea what he would do when—if—he saw her again. Smother her with kisses or give her the tongue lashing of her life.
Matthew Hunter seemed to take pity on him. “We could go ask my former squire, Sir William Parry. He knows Bethan, who’s been a frequent visitor over the years. It’s not impossible that he might have heard of her.”
Cameron shot up to his feet, hope fanned anew. If one of her friends lived nearby, it was not inconceivable she would have gone to him to ask for help. Maybe this William wouldknow where she was. Now that Matthew had mentioned him, he remembered hearing the name in Bethan’s mouth. What had she said about the man? He could not recall, but it made little difference. All that mattered was going to see if he could help them.
“Is it far? Can we go now?”
Matthew exchanged a glance with his wife, a dark-haired woman with extraordinary amber eyes. She nodded slightly, as if she’d understood something no one had said. “It’s not that far,” was the answer she gave him.
“And yes, we can go now.”
They found the castle brimming with activity. In the lists, a dozen men were sparring in full armor, squires and pages were cheering on the side, grooms were watching and taking bets on the outcome of the fights.
Matthew and Cameron waited, admiring the warriors who displayed well-honed skills. Which one was Bethan’s friend?
After a while, a knight appeared in front of them, panting hard, his helm tucked under his arm. Tall and broad, with golden hair and chiseled features, he was every woman’s fantasy come true. Jealousy, this ugly creature, reared its head. If this was Sir William Parry, the man Bethan had fled to, it seemed unavoidable that she would have shared his bed.
Oblivious to his musings, Matthew Hunter gave the younger man a paternal tap on the shoulder. “William, apologies for disturbing you in the middle of training.” So this was indeed Sir William. Jealousy bared its fangs. It would not be long before it started to rip at his throat. “Let me introduce you to Laird Cameron Campbell, come from Scotland. He has a question to ask you.”
The blond man arched a brow, as if the name surprised him. “Laird Campbell? Are you Dougal Campbell’s uncle perchance?”
Hope fluttered inside Cameron’s chest, wiping all other considerations from his mind. The man was indeed familiar with Bethan’s life if he knew about her connection with his family. It was all that mattered. “Aye.”
“I will say that you are not quite how I imagined you to be.”
It was when Sir William eyed him up with obvious appreciation that Cameron remembered what Bethan had told him about her friend. He was the one who had refused to be her first lover because he liked men, not women. Well, if that was the case, he could rest easy. The two of them had not slept together, not now, or ever. Jealousy went back to its lair, its tail tucked between its legs.
“Nay, I imagine I’m not.” Likely the word uncle would have conjured up images of grizzled old men in the man’s mind.
“Would this question of yours wait a moment?” The knight gestured at his breastplate. “I’ll admit I’ll feel better once I’ve had a wash.”
No, it can’t wait. And you don’t need to be clean to tell me if you know where Bethan is.
“Of course,” Cameron said, nevertheless.
It did not take him long to regret his gracious answer. That night a banquet was given in honor of the knights who had competed in the afternoon, and midway through the meal, he still hadn’t had the chance to talk privately with their host. As soon as Sir William had appeared, dressed in impeccably clean clothes, his hair falling in graceful curls over his shoulders, he’d been set upon by his guests. Everyone, it seemed, had something to tell him or congratulations to offer. A little delay Cameron could have handled, but this was sorely testing his patience.
“Well done on a victory well-earned this afternoon, my friend.” A man raised his cup of mead in Sir William’s direction.
“I thank you, but there is little merit in beating men twice my age and half my strength, don’t you think?”
Laughter erupted in the hall. “Careful, pup!” the man holding the mead warned, his lips twitching. “I am not so old and weak that I cannot make you regret your impudence.”
“I know it. But if you’re really intent on offering your congratulations, then you might as well know that I am to be married soon. I believe it is a much more worthy reason for celebration.” He paused for effect, a smile playing on his lips. “Before the month is over I shall be fortunate enough to call a beautiful lady my wife.”
The raised eyebrows around the room told Cameron that the men, like him, were aware of Sir William’s preferences, preferences that made this announcement somewhat of a shock.
