Page 52 of A Scot for Bethan
“You don’t want a wife,” she reminded him weakly.
“I’ve changed my mind. I want this wife.” He brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss on her ring finger. “This woman.”
“You don’t?—”
He knew what she was about to say but he didn’t let her finish. “But I do. I want to marry you because I love you, not because you are now rich or because it is the right thing to do. I would want to marry you without the child you’re about to giveme. I took you against the wall because I could not stop myself a moment longer. I bedded you because I wanted you. I still do. I am prepared to wait if that’s what you want, I’m prepared to woo you if that’s what you need, I’m prepared to beg if that’s what it takes. The only thing I won’t do is give up. Do you imagine I would abandon my bairn or let anyone else take you away from me? I almost lost you to Dougal, Malcolm McDonald and God knows who else. I am not leaving this place without you so you might as well surrender now and spare us months of suffering.”
“You truly love me?” She sounded both hopeful and wary, as if she feared believing him.
“Aye.Tha gaol agam ort. I cannot make it plainer than in my own language. Now you tell me you love me in Welsh so I know you mean it.”
To his relief, she only hesitated for a heartbeat, then said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Rwy’n dy garu di.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
She gave a shaky laugh, her mouth quivering. “You don’t know what I said. I could have been asking you to get me a cup of mead, and you wouldn’t know.”
“Nay. That was no request for mead. I saw the truth of your words in your eyes.”
“Cameron.”
“No more tears.” He wiped her cheek gently, then kissed her scar with reverence, running his tongue along its length, up, then down, before falling at her feet. “I would have cut off my right hand rather than seeing you hurt thus, especially considering you cut yourself to protect my bairn. But what is done is done. Promise me you will never hide your face again, from me or anyone. You are beautiful. Always will be.”
His hand found its way to her stomach again and he smiled when he imagined his son in there, warm, and safe inside herbody. Or was it one of the wee daughters he’d always wanted? His heart felt ready to burst at the idea of meeting the babe in a few months’ time. He couldn’t wait.
“Oh, my love. That I should be the one to give you a child… The one looking after you, the one lucky enough to marry you…” He shook his head, pressing his lips just above her navel. It was too much happiness for one man.
Bethan placed her hand on his cheek. “I haven’t agreed to marry you yet, you know,” she said softly.
“Nay. But you will.”
She bit her bottom lip, doubt assailing her. “There is William to consider. After all he did, I don’t want him to?—”
He silenced her with a kiss on the palm still cradling his cheek. She was worried she would hurt her friend’s feelings, and after all the man had done for her, he could understand. But Cameron knew she could accept his offer without scruples.
“Sir William gave me his blessing earlier. He will not stand in my way. The man’s not a fool. He knows I’m the one you’re meant to be with. So let’s go and tell him the good news.”
The following week passed in a blur.
With a wedding to organize, there was much to do. The days were spent sending invitations, choosing food for the banquet, getting the clothes ready. To everyone’s surprise, Bethan’s stomach had expanded almost overnight, and the gown she had selected for her wedding—to William, originally—had to be discarded in favor of one with a more forgiving cut.
The nights were spent in a flurry of passion that left Bethan breathless. Knowing William would not disapprove, and not caring about what everyone else thought, she and Cameron hadnot waited to be married to share a bed. Let people talk, they would not be hypocrites and sneak around to one another’s rooms at night when everyone could see they had already anticipated their vows.
The morning that was to be their wedding day she was awakened by a ray of sunshine falling over her face. She smiled. It had rained the whole week, so she could not help but see this as a good omen. This union was blessed indeed. Not that she doubted it.
“Madainn mhath,” she murmured in Cameron’s ear. It was always a good morning when she woke up next to him, nestled in his warmth.
“Bore dato you too,” he rumbled back, eyes still closed. They had started to learn each other’s language, as they had agreed their children would speak Gaelic and Welsh as well as English.
She gave him a slow, languorous kiss. By the time she drew away, his eyes were no longer closed, and every part of him was wide awake, most noticeably the one hidden under the sheet.
Perfect. That was just what she wanted. They still had some time before they started the day, and she would make the most of it. The wedding was not planned until later in the afternoon.
“Mm. I know that spark in your eye, Lady Campbell. You’re up to mischief.”
Bethan giggled. Cameron, after having insisted many times that she was not a lady, had taken to calling her Lady Campbell even though she had no right to the title yet.
“Not mischief, precisely.” She pressed herself tighter against him and brought her hand to the bulge at his groin. “But there is something I’d like to try. You know I told you on the day we met that I had never pleasured anyone on my knees before?”
