Page 48 of A Scot for Bethan
She would have a lot of explaining to do.
Bethan stood up at last and turned around—only to sag against Sir William when she saw who was standing in the door frame. Cameron almost ran to her, but the Englishman brought his arm around her in support before he could move.
“It’s all right, he’s not going to hurt you,” her friend murmured in her ear.
What the devil? Of course, he would not hurt her! Why would they think that? And since when did he need permission to approach her? Dear God, when had things become so difficult between them? Didn’t she remember all they had shared?
“I’m not going to hurt you. But I need to talk to you,” he said, taking a step forward. He would not be made to feel like a monster when he had done nothing wrong. “Please.”
For a moment it looked as if she would agree. Then her eyes filled with tears, and he knew all hope was lost. She shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.”
With those words, she turned and fled, leaving Cameron rooted to the spot.
The sound of footsteps behind him caused Cameron’s heart to flip in his chest. Finally! After the disastrous encounter with Bethan this morning, Sir William had promised he would talk to her, convince her to give him a chance to explain himself. And it would seem he had succeeded. Gratitude flooded through him. They couldn’t have left things the way they had. He needed to understand, he needed to explain himself, he needed…her.
Seeing her this morning, though it had been brief, though her face had been half hidden under the hood of her cloak, though she had appeared shocked to see him, had made him realize that he would not be able to breathe until he had made her see they belonged together.
“Ealasaid?” The word died on his lips when he turned around and saw Sir William standing in the middle of the room instead of the woman he wanted to see.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know any Gaelic,” the Englishman said. “What did you say?”
Cameron waved the question away. It was better the man had not understood the word had been nothing more than his pet name for Bethan. This was humiliating enough as it was. Because, evidently, she had not agreed to a meeting with him. Why? Surely she was not really afraid of him?
“I can’t believe she’s refusing to see me,” he said through gritted teeth. How odd it was to confide in the man who was about to make the woman he wanted his wife. But what other choice did he have? Matthew Hunter had gone back to Sheridan Manor after the banquet, and anyway, Cameron hardly knew the man. Sir William was the only one who might understand how he felt, since he seemed to know the history between them. “Something has changed. She is not the woman I remember.”
“Ah. Mayhap she is not.”
What the hell did that mean? Cameron had had enough of this. He planted himself in front of the man who would marry Bethan in less than a week if he didn’t put a stop to the madness. It was time to be blunt. He had once balked at the idea of her marrying Dougal because she needed a real man in her bed. Well, this would be ten times worse. Bethan was about to shackle herself to a man who could never satisfy her womanly needs. An inexperienced boy might have learned to please her in time, but a man who felt no desire for the female form would never be able or willing to give her what she craved.
“Listen. I know you and Bethan will never consummate your union, and I know why. So why the devil would you want to marry her, if not for her money? And why did she agree to such an unsatisfactory bargain? Something is not right here. If I didn’t know better, I would say that she feels obliged to marry you. But you do not seem like a tyrant, and you obviously care about her. No,” he said almost to himself. “She is not here under duress, at least that much is clear.”
“Of course she’s not. I would never do anything to harm her. We have known each other all our lives, or very nearly.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Why would she want to marry a man who will never be a husband to her when she refused to marry me?” he said, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “She didn’t seem to want protection then, andyet she has accepted yours, knowing you could never give her what she needed.”
Whichever way you looked at it, it made no sense.
“There is only one thing she needs now, and it’s not a lover in her bed, but marriage to a respectable man. Oh, my laird, how can you not see it? She had no choice but to accept my offer.” Sir William said gently. He leaned in toward him, as if not to be overheard. “You were right, sheischanged. She is with child. Your child, I would dare to venture, though she never confirmed my suspicions. Does that answer your question? She doesn’t care about protecting herself, but she needs to protect her babe from malice, give it a name and a father.”
Cameron stared at him in shock. Bethan was with child? He wouldn’t be more stunned if he’d been hit over the head with one of Sir Alan’s blasted maces.
“But she said she’d…she said she couldn’t be…”
Had she lied then when she’d claimed to be still taking Mistress Elen’s draughts? It was possible. He hadn’t seen her drink anything while they were on the road, but perhaps she’d been too discreet, not wanting any of the men to guess what she was doing. That was very possible.
Hell, he couldn’t think, and he desperately needed to. He needed to understand.
Sir William sighed, taking pity on him. “I suspect she lied because she was too hurt and wanted to protect her pride. She believes you’re only after her fortune, and her feelings for you are too strong for her to accept that easily. My guess is that she wants far more from you. In any case, she is most definitely with child. Whether it’s yours or not is?—”
“The bairn is mine!” Cameron roared, unable to even hear the fact denied.
That babe was his, he knew it in his bones. Bethan would not have gone to another man mere days after the night of passionthey had shared. Now he understood why she had been so hurt by his clumsy proposal. Sir William was right. Her feelings for him were strong, far stronger than she would have liked to admit, far stronger than his had been at the time, even. That was why she had surrendered to his desire so readily. And she would have been appalled to see that he was only offering to marry her out of duty when she would have accepted him out of love.
What a mess. His insides felt as if they had been ripped apart by a wild cat.
His agony must have shown on his face because Sir William sighed again, like a man torn between showing loyalty to a friend and doing what his conscience was urging him to do.
