Page 46 of A Scot for Bethan
“Congratulations,” a man with his face mottled by drink grumbled. “Though if you really do have to marry for appearances’ sake, you might at least have left this beautiful lady to someone who would actually enjoy having her in his bed.”
“Hear, hear.”
The murmur was not hostile, merely mocking. Clearly the men assembled tonight were friends that could be trusted not to hold his preferences against him.
Sir William smiled. “I will admit that I am perhaps not the best judge in such matters, but I have no choice but to say that the future Lady Parry is a ravishing beauty. It is not her only accomplishment, however. She is also learned, generous and quick-witted.”
A tall man laughed. “I see! You intend to spend your eveningstalkingto your wife!”
“I most certainly do,” he agreed tranquilly, ignoring the taunt. “For conversations with Bethan ferch Morgan are most enlivening.”
With those words, he stared straight at Cameron, a clear provocation.
It took every ounce of control for him to remain in his seat, and his fingers tightened painfully around his tankard of ale. Had it been made of glass, it might well have shattered. Two emotions warred within him. The first one was relief. Bethan was clearly alive and well. She had made it, she had not been attacked, raped, and killed, as he’d feared many times. The second, much more powerful emotion assailing his gut was fury. She was to marry Sir William? What the hell was going on? The man didn’t love her, he did not even want her, not in that way, at least, and she knew it. Why on earth had she agreed to this parody of a union? If this was her way of placing herself out of unscrupulous men’s reach, then why marry only now, months after her disappearance, when the most pressing danger was gone?
He skewered Sir William with a dark stare, making it clear their talk would not be postponed any longer. Now he understood why the man had recognized his name… Bethan would have mentioned him. Heaven only knew what she had told her friend—her future husband, he should say. Well, he would make sure to add his own version to the story without further ado.
Very deliberately, he stood up and nodded toward the door, his meaning clear.
Come meet me, now.
“Careful, my laird. William is a good man, and I’ve known him since he was a child,” he heard Matthew Hunter say under his breath. “Whereas I don’t know you. If you harm him in any way, I will hunt you down and make you regret me giving you a chance.”
The threat was not an idle one. Despite being his senior by two decades, the man was clearly still a formidable warrior.
“Fear not. I just have a few questions to ask him.”
With those words, he made his way to the door. When Sir William walked out of the hall a moment later, Cameron was waiting for him in the middle of the bailey. Silently, he ordered him toward the stable. This conversation needed no witnesses. As soon as they were both inside, he leaned into the door frame, blocking any possible retreat. He knew that it did not take much effort for him to appear menacing, and he was glad of it.
“Now that you’ve had your wash, we’ll have that talk, you and I.”
Sir William did not appear in the least worried by his imposing stature and disgruntled voice.
“I suppose we will, since you’re asking so nicely.” His voice was calm when many lesser men would have flinched. Cameron’s respect for him increased begrudgingly. “You know, I will have to trust what my wife says once we are married. She did mention that you could be gruff at times but, silly me, I put it down to the unusual situation you were in. Were I in your position, I, too, would have been on edge. She also said that you were remarkably handsome, but as she and I do not have quite the same idea of beauty, I’ll admit that I did not set much score by her assessment. Now, however, I can see that Beth was right on both accounts.”
Beth.
The nickname thrown in so naturally told Cameron that Sir William had not lied when he had claimed to be betrothed to Bethan. People gave each other special names to show their affection. Hadn’t he himself taken to calling her Ealasaid because he’d felt a special connection to her? Hope died in his chest. For a moment, he had wondered if the man had not announced his betrothal to provoke his guests. He now could see that it had been no jest. Those two were indeed about to get married.
Which meant he had to act, fast.
“Where is she?” he growled. That was all he wanted to know.
“Where do you think? Here, of course. As you heard, we are about to be married.”
Cameron recoiled. All this while, Bethan had been here, hidden away in one of the castle rooms? He’d been waiting patiently all night for a word with Sir William, hoping to find out where she had gone, and now he was being told he could have seen her hours ago? It was not to be borne.
He took a step forward. “Take me to?—”
“Not now, she’s asleep. I haven’t told her you were here. She needs rest and she would never have gotten it after a conversation with you.” Despite the flippant tone, it was clear there would be no convincing the man. Sir William was a formidable adversary, for all his tranquil ways. “I can take you to her tomorrow. She will be thrilled to see you… I think.”
This was getting weirder by the moment. “You think your betrothed will be thrilled to see me, and you know why, yet you are willing to let me see her?”
A shrug answered him. “Of course. She’s not my captive. If you have come, as I hope, to claim her, and she is brave enough to have you, then I will have nothing to say.”
Cameron was not often rendered speechless, but he was now. The man was hoping his future wife would forsake him in favor of another man?
“Didn’t you just say you were set to marry her?” he asked when he had finally regained his ability to talk. Surely he had not misunderstood.
