“One of these days I will be able to take my time,” he murmured, then chuckled at the curious look she gave him. “There is a lot we can share, loving.” He kissed her.
She was not sure what his words meant. It sounded as if he planned to keep her with him for a while. He did not know about her special skill, one the horrified Kerr had called witchery. He had to be forgetting about all of her responsibilities. She wished she could be so selfish, to just say farewell to it all, and reach out for whatever he wanted to share with her for however long he wanted to share it. That was not something she would ever be able to do, however, but she said nothing. The hard truth could wait to be told only when it was absolutely necessary.
Chapter Fourteen
“Ye are coming with us.”
Bethoc stared at Callum. They had enjoyed the last week, slipping away to be together, making love when they could, and just being free of the crowd that surrounded them most of the time. But reality was back; she was not free and never had been. There were seven children who needed her.
“Ye need to meet your real father, lass.”
Those words drove her heart into her throat. She had never really given much thought to her father since she had learned it was not Kerr. The man had never been a part of her life and, after one and twenty years, she doubted he would abruptly change his mind. She was not sure she wanted to start some kind of relationship with him, either.
“Nay. He wouldnae want a grown daughter rapping at the door.”
“Aye, he would.” Callum took hold of her hands, ending her nervous wringing of them.
“There are the children to worry about. I must needs . . .”
“Nay, ye dinnae. Robbie will stay with the older lads so no one will try to take the house and the others will come with us. Colin and Bean intend to stay here. And ye ken weel that Laurel would dearly like to take young Magnus into her home.”
“I ken it. I have been trying to be unselfish, to, weel, let go of the lad.” She frowned when he grinned. “’Tis nay funny.”
He kissed her. “I wasnae laughing. I was just thinking that ye sound like me when one of my strays has a chance to go to a new home and have a proper family.” He sat beneath the tree and tugged her down beside him. “Magnus seems to truly like Laurel.”
“He does and I think he wouldnae mind being her boy. She is certain he is Yolanda’s boy. I am wondering if they have talked of the woman at all but keep forgetting to ask. And he hasnae been part of this family all that long, nay like the others.”
“Robbie likes Laurel too. I am thinking that is why he is staying for a while.”
“I am nay sure Laurel is wanting a mon.”
“Neither is Robbie looking for a lass but he is wondering and he means to give it a try.”
When he put his arm around her, she leaned against him and sighed. “Ye insist I meet with this mon Brett Murray, dinnae ye?”
“The mon is your father.”
“One I have ne’er met. Dinnae ken e’en in passing. I cannae see that he will want that changed.”
“I do but nay just for him. The clan is a large one, Bethoc, and a good one to have a friend in. Ye dinnae have to stay with him. As ye say, ye are a grown woman, but he didnae desert your mother, e’en gave her a way to contact him, so he showed that he wasnae deserting ye, either. That shows he would ne’er have left her with child and unprotected. His own family would have been most upset with him if he e’en tried. Mayhap he would like to ken what happened.”
“I ken it. I was thinking on it last eve, thinking on how different my life would have been. Then I thought on the boys and I am nay too sorry I ended up here. I would have been raised as a Murray and nay here to meet them. That would have been a tragedy, I think. They needed me.”
He nodded. “Aye, they did. I am thinking though that ye need to meet your father. Ye need to do that for ye, to see what ye sprung from and all that.”
“I am nay a small boy like ye were, Callum. I am old enough to find it simply comforting to ken I have one and he didnae treat my mother poorly, would have been there for us if my mother had contacted him.” She turned and gave him a quick kiss. “But, aye, ye are right. After my mother, mayhap it would be good for me to ken the other half of my parentage.”
Callum took her into his arms and kissed her hard. “Mayhap we should go back to our place by the burn.”
“Too late, ye randy goat. I need to make a meal. And, we should be more careful. Someone could discover us there.”
“Bethoc, they ken where we go.” He laughed at the look of horror on her face.
“How could they?”
“Weel, I suspicion it has something to do with me telling Uven to make sure none of the lads wandered off and went near the burn the first time I took ye there.”
Bethoc was stunned. She had thought it was all their little secret. Now it appeared everyone had known what they were doing. The times she had worried about being discovered had been an unnecessary loss of peace of mind. Everyone had known that she and Callum were down by the burn doing something they should not be doing and had politely stayed away. She was not sure how she felt about that.
They all knew, she thought, and blushed. Did they think she was being a fool or, worse, was just a whore? She realized next that they had known all along and not one had treated her differently.
She frowned before she could get too lost in that embarrassment and worry. No one had acted differently around her or Callum. They all acted as if everything was just as it should be. That could only mean one thing. Not one of them cared what she and Callum were doing near the burn. Bethoc found that hard to believe yet she could not ignore the facts. She turned to speak to Callum only to find him sprawled on his back, hands behind his head, and his eyes closed.
“Callum?”
He opened his eyes and grinned at her. “Have ye stopped fretting? Mayhap sorted it all out?”
“I wasnae fretting; I was merely thinking on it.”
“Ye were fretting.”
She decided to ignore that. “They dinnae care.”
Sitting up, he put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “Nay, love, they dinnae.”
The last of her confused emotions melted away. “Weel, I guess I had best go and ready something for everyone to eat then.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and tried to speak calmly. “And to ready some food to take with us when we leave.”
“I am thinking we will go alone to see Brett. Leave the boys here with Robbie, Uven, and Simon and just the two of us go there. Then ye can meet without anyone’s expectations muddling things. Talk freely and all that.”
“How long will it take?”
“Weel, if we dinnae stay long, it could be done in two or three days. Then back here, collect the lads and Margaret, and head off to Whytemont. What do ye think?”
She thought about it for a few minutes. It would mean she could meet the man with none of her family to worry about. Also, she would have a few nights alone with Callum. They got little of that. There was always someone around, some child who drew her attention. Selfish it might be but she nodded. She was going to grab for it.
* * *
Bethoc stared at Banuilt as they approached and felt her stomach slowly tie itself up in knots. This was madness, she decided. She was too old to go looking for a father. And how would the poor man explain her to his wife? The very last thing she wished to do was cause trouble for him with his wife. She was just about to turn her horse around when Callum reached over and grabbed her reins.
“Nay, ye willnae turn coward now,” he said. “He is expecting you.”
“Weel, he wouldnae be if ye hadnae sent word so fast. I am sure his wife isnae pleased.”
“About what? That o’er twenty years ago the boy her husband used to be had a brief affair with a young lass? Or had a bairn? She has one of those by him so nay room for jealousy about that. Ye fret too much, love, although ye do astound me at times o’er what y
e come up with to fret about.”
“I am so pleased I amuse you.”
“Didnae say amused, said astounded, but that bodes weel for our future.”
She was about to ask him what future he spoke of when he was distracted by the men on the walls of Banuilt. After what was a lot of bellowed nonsense the gates slowly opened. There on the steps into the impressive keep stood a tall, black-haired man. He had his arm draped around a much smaller woman with long hair that appeared brown except where the sunlight struck it and red shown through.
Callum helped her dismount and walked her over to the man she had come to meet. Her first thought was that if her mother had to lose herself in a dream, Sir Brett Murray was a good choice. He had to be inching toward forty but he looked a lot younger, his body lean and fit, his eyes a sharp bright green. She idly wished she had been gifted with those. His black hair, however, was as thick and dark as her own and, she was pleased to note, was as yet untouched by gray.
She was introduced to Lady Triona and found only an honest welcome. If the woman had been upset to discover her husband had a grown child, they had already argued about and settled the matter. Bethoc did feel a pang for her mother, however. If not for one lost piece of paper, she could have had this man instead of suffering under Kerr’s fist for years.
Brett introduced his children Ella and Geordan. Bethoc wondered why the pretty little girl had a cat riding on her shoulder but Callum patted the animal as if that was normal. She did wish she had brought the boys though as they would have loved such a sight.
It was not until they were at the table in the great hall, children gone, the food enjoyed, and no one else in the hall that Brett finally asked, “How . . . nay . . . why did she ne’er contact me? I left the information she needed.”
“I fear she lost it.” Bethoc smiled sadly when his eyes widened in shock. “My mother was sweet, loving, her manners perfect, but I fear she wasnae”—Bethoc thought hard on what to say then shrugged—“too sharp of wit. She wasnae a dullard or the like, ’tis just that she . . .” Bethoc struggled to explain clearly.
“Dreamed a lot,” Brett said. “She was one to get lost in dreams.”
“Aye, exactly. E’en then?” When he nodded, Bethoc shook her head. “I wondered about that. It got worse as the years passed and I fear the mon her family made her marry didnae help.”
“She had an unhappy life?” asked Triona.
Bethoc hesitated to tell the whole truth but Callum patted her hand. She looked at him and he nodded. If he felt Brett could deal with it, then she could tell. She softened it as much as she could but decided it was not enough when Triona’s eyes filled with tears over the tale of the babies in the garden. Nevertheless, she continued until ending at Kerr’s death.
“Poor lass.” Brett shook his head. “If she had only kept that letter I gave her.” He took Triona’s hand in his and kissed it. “She didnae deserve that misery. E’en if I couldnae have wed her for some reason, the Murrays would have taken her in. Nay fixing the past though. I am sorry ye were trapped because of that one mistake.”
“It wasnae good but it had its good parts,” Bethoc said, “if that makes sense.”
“Oh, aye,” said Triona. “I have the same feeling about my first marriage. Ella’s the good part.”
Bethoc smiled. “The lads and Margaret are my good part. I didnae ken how or why Kerr took the lads from whate’er life they had but they did make life easier to bear. When ye have someone ye have to watch over, ’tis hard to get too lost in your own misery, aye.”
“Aye, verra hard,” Triona agreed, and smiled.
“So, Callum, I hear ye have had an adventure, one that required even Innes’s skills,” said Brett.
As Callum told the story, Bethoc fought to stay alert but weariness began to weigh on her. Triona quietly excused them, leaving the men to talk, and Bethoc was grateful. She was astonished by the room she was shown to, from the heavy drapes on the window to the feather-filled pillows.
“Aye, we are doing so much better at Banuilt now,” said Triona after Bethoc exclaimed her delight over a tapestry on the wall. “A lot of work left to do but now we ken it can be done. Wait until ye and your lads see Callum’s lands and home. Brett tells me ’tis verra nice.”
“Weel, I am nay certain I will see it.” Callum had spoken of it but she was still uncertain for he had never said what she was to be or do when she got there.
“Oh, aye, ye will. Your boys will too? Will ye take them all?”
Bethoc frowned. “It has been said that Colin and Bean wouldnae be going and Robbie would stay with them. I think Robbie hopes he can catch Laurel’s interest as weel.”
“Laurel?” Triona asked, and listened carefully as Bethoc told her Laurel’s story and then she sighed. “I suspicion Robbie kens all this.” Bethoc nodded. “Ah, good, then he kens he cannae woo her as he might another lass. And which boy does she want?”
“Magnus. She is certain he is Yolanda’s child and she was hanged for a murder she didnae commit before we were able to stop that vicious game the sheriff played. Now all they can do is take the stain from her name. Since his father is dead too, that means he is an orphan. Magnus seems to like her weel.”
Triona nudged Bethoc with her shoulder. “’Tis hard to set them free. Yet, mayhap ye should do it for Laurel’s sake. Give her that person she needs to care for so her mind doesnae rest too long on what was done to her. Give her someone to love so that she doesnae forget what that is.”
“Oh. I should have thought of that.” Bethoc sat on the bed, realized it had a feather mattress, and forced herself not to be distracted by that. “I ken she willnae keep him from the other boys or me. And she has a lovely cottage. And she wants to honor Yolanda.” Bethoc sighed. “I need to let go.”
Sitting next to her, Triona patted her clenched hands. “She sounds perfect for the boy.”
“I dinnae want the other boys to think I am intending to hand them all off to someone.”
“They have nay reason to think that. Just be who ye have always been with them and, nay matter what changes come, they will be fine.”
“Thank ye, Triona. Ye have a true skill for seeing another’s worries. And Callum says I have a lot of them.” She frowned. “He says I astound him with the things I can think of to fret about.”
Triona laughed. “I do the same. How does it feel to meet your father?”
“Odd. I dinnae blame him for anything, if that is your worry. My mother made the mistake, lost the only way to reach him and couldnae e’en recall what he wrote. It hurts a wee bit to say it but she truly wasnae verra sharp of wit. ’Tis why she ne’er once thought to leave, ne’er thought to help any of the lads Kerr brought home.” Bethoc grimaced. “She truly did live in her dreams. Brett was her prince.” She was startled when Triona collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“I am sorry.” Triona finally got herself under control, wiped her eyes, and sat up. “Your mother’s story is so sad yet Brett as a prince, weel, she was young. She was ill, I think. Ill in her mind. Mayhap only a little at first then more and more so as time went on.”
“Aye, she was. She was so bonnie and so brittle. A sad woman who met a sad death.” Bethoc saw Triona frown. “’Tis better than some of the other things I have thought o’er the years.”
Triona patted her on the back. “Families. None are perfect. Ye are now part of ours so ye will discover that soon enough.”
Her laughter followed her out of the room. Bethoc had to smile and shook her head as she dug her night shift out of her pack. As she dressed, she thought on the man she had the right to call Father. He certainly was good-looking, strong, and a laird. His wife was both wise and charming. What left her a little stunned was how he welcomed her, never questioning her claim. She rather wished she had been able to greet him with more warmth, then shook her head. Bethoc would just let things happen, no planning, and no fretting, which would please Callum.
Tugging on her night shift after having a q
uick wash in the still-warm water left by the maids, Bethoc got into bed. She groaned with pleasure as the soft mattress cradled her body and her hand was settled nicely against the soft feather pillows. This was luxury, she thought, and she would not allow it to spoil her.
* * *
“She isnae sure,” said Brett after the women were gone. “Nay about me or about having a father.”
“Weel, she is a grown woman. I dinnae think she e’er expected to meet the mon who fathered her.”
“She has her mother’s eyes.”
“Ye can recall the lass?”
“She was my first. I was hers. Aye, I recall her. I recall, too, that she was delicate, in body and, I think, in mind. Bethoc is similar to her in body but nay in mind. ’Tis hard to think of the life my child has led because her mother lost my letter.”
“It was hard, nay question about that, but it didnae break her. It honed her.” Callum smiled faintly.
“And ye mean to have her.”
Callum was stunned by Brett’s words and unsure of how he should reply.
Brett shook his head. “Ye look as if I just punched ye in the head. The lass is a grown woman. I have had naught to do with her raising. All I ken is that she has spent her life raised by a hard mon and cares for a lot of bairns that are nay hers. Her mother was nay help to her, lost in misery and dreams as she was. What I am trying to spit out here is that I dinnae have the right to demand anything of ye. I will ask though that ye dinnae hurt her. She has had enough hurt in her life.”
“I would ne’er hurt her.”
“Ye ken what I mean. Ye are keeping her close and ye ken what a lass can see in that.”
“Aye,” Callum admitted. “Do ye want the truth?”
“Always better.”
“I dinnae ken what the hell I want.” He frowned when Brett laughed. “’Tis true. I cannae say I love her. What do I ken about such things? Yet I cannae see nay having her about. When I saw that sheriff on top of her, I threw him into a wall and if she hadnae needed me to untie her, I would have broken him into pieces. I dinnae e’en care if she drags all the little ones with her if she comes with me to Whytemont. And I already ken I willnae heed a nay when I say she should come with me. Jesu, ’tis a confusion.”
Highland Chieftain Page 16
