“Ye arenae taking him just to help ye with your work, are ye?”
“Nay! I am nay so old I e’en need him for that. ’Tis true he will be a help, but he could even find something else he would rather work at. We dinnae care. Just really like the lad, especially me wife.”
“T’will be about two weeks ere ye get an answer.” Callum doubted it would take so long but felt the need to warn the man.
“We ken it. ’Tis why we are asking now. Give us time to get the lad, weel, settled in before the winter comes.”
“Good. If ye and your wife are absolutely certain there is naught I can find to make me say nay, it will give ye time to ready yourselves for the lad too.”
“Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir.” Thomas vigorously shook Callum’s hand and hurried out of the hall, clearly eager to tell his wife.
“So another of your lambs goes home,” said Uven. “Good choice, I think.”
“Oh, I think so too.”
“Why two weeks?” asked Bethoc, frowning over the conversation she had just heard.
“Ye ken I said I take in strays, aye?” She nodded. “I do like it when they can be settled in a good home but I always check to be certain it is good. Tom and Anne have lived here all their lives so that information will be easy to gain. If he or she had e’er worked elsewhere, I will find out about that as weel. In truth, I dinnae believe I will find one single reason why they cannae have Michael as their own.”
“Then why do it?”
“To make certain the children sheltered here go to a good, loving home. And if I do it with one, ’tis only fair to do it with all who ask. Oh, I ken no one can be completely sure, but I do what I can. That and my instincts.”
“Ah, ye didnae smell a taint in him. Nay, I didnae either.” She took a drink of cider only to realize both men were staring at her oddly. “What?”
“What do ye mean about smelling a taint?”
Realizing these men did not understand what she meant, Bethoc blushed. “Oh, nothing.”
“Bethoc, ye are a Murray,” Callum said. “I doubt it is nothing. Ye smell a taint?”
“I didnae with Thomas, but, aye, I can smell it, feel it. ’Tis why I ran to your rescue which, if ye think on it, was nay the wisest decision a lass with a child and walking alone would make.” She shrugged. “I dinnae ken what happens. I just meet a person and ’tis almost like a smell, an unclean smell most often, or a need to shudder and move away. Angus reeked and made my stomach turn.”
Callum sat back and studied her for a moment. “Methinks we best find a chance for ye to talk to a Murray or two. Many of them have such, er, gifts. Did Kerr have a taint?”
“Aye, but nay such a strong one. I wondered why because of the bairns, but he did feel guilt o’er that. I think t’was because he was just a very angry, unhappy mon. Nay actually evil though he had done evil things, just terribly disappointed in his lot in life. He smelled like soured milk.” She found it wonderful to be able to speak so freely about what Kerr had always said was witchery, and she could see the men were just curious, fascinated.
“Does everyone have a scent to you?” Callum asked.
“Aye. Uven smells like the ocean.” She smiled when he blushed. “Robbie smells like clean earth.”
“What does that mean?”
“I am nay sure though I have figured out some of them. I have always thought that earth smell, clean, rich earth, just meant this is a good, honest person, one who will stand firm.”
“Oh, aye, that is our Robbie,” said Uven. “Stands as firm as an ancient oak when he sets his mind to something.”
“Aye.” She smiled. “’Tis why, despite his size, I ne’er feared him. I ne’er questioned him watching o’er the boys. Ne’er once. I ken Laurel cannae smell him like I do, but I suspicion she does a wee bit. She was easy with him far too quickly for a woman who has suffered as she has.”
“So, Robbie could gain what he wants because he smells like dirt?” Callum grinned when Bethoc fell into a fit of the giggles.
It was late by the time they sought their bedchambers. Bethoc allowed Callum to lead her along as she planned what she would say to him. She could not allow him to simply set her up as his mistress without some rules, some mutual understanding. It was wrong to let him do it at all, but she was weak and admitted it. Even now she was not ready to give up on Callum, or walk away. Foolish though it was, she kept thinking he simply did not know or was not sure of what he wanted and just needed time.
Once inside the room, Callum made a fire and then turned to her. “Uven tells me ye are upset I put ye in here.”
“How would he ken that?” she asked as she sat on the bed.
“Saw it on your face when ye first entered the great hall.”
“Weel, aye, ’tis a bit upsetting. With this ye have told everyone here that I am your mistress.”
“Lover,” he quickly corrected, and moved closer to her.
“What is the difference?”
“Usually money. A mistress may nay ask for coin like a tavern maid but she definitely expects rewards. Jewels. Gowns. A fine horse and carriage to ride about in. A lover is just one who wishes to be with you.” He sat down beside her and took her into his arms. “If it makes ye feel better ye could sleep elsewhere and we can just slip into each other’s rooms.”
“Which everyone will ken about verra quickly.”
“Aye.”
“There are no secrets in places like these, are there?”
“Nary a one.”
Bethoc sighed. “I am just nay sure why ye brought me to Whytemont, and feared being in the room would ruin any chance of making a place for myself, if that is what ye sought, or of being accepted.”
He kissed her. “Ye do as ye please and, I promise ye, ye will suffer naught for being my lover. We are nay so caring here of who is doing what to whom. Only when it comes to the bairns do they care if ye are e’en wedded. E’en I frown on adultery and we are nay committing that, either.”
“So cease fretting, aye?”
“Aye.” He began to unlace her gown. “Ye didnae tell me what I smell like.”
“Oh.” She giggled as he gave her a quick tickle before yanking off her gown. “Actually, I dinnae ken what to call it. ’Tis just ye. Just Callum. Mayhap one day I can name it. Although, right now, ye smell like cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon?” He sat up and tugged off his boots, then reached for her shoes to remove them.
“I ken I have only smelled it once as ’tis so rare and expensive, but, aye. Cinnamon at certain times.”
“What times?”
“Weel, like now.”
“Ah, when I am feeling amorous. Do ye think everyone smells different at such times?”
“How would I ken that?” she asked, her words muffled as he yanked off her chemise. “I have ne’er done it before ye, ne’er even kissed, and certainly ne’er seen any others doing it.”
“Ah, of course. Still, ’tis an interesting thought. An intriguing question.”
“One I believe I could go a verra long time without answering.”
She realized their clothing was now scattered about the room. Callum got up to pull down the covers on the bed. Bethoc was so fascinated by watching his naked form as he moved, he was in bed and watching her while she still perched on top of the covers. Also naked, she realized in shock, and scrambled to get beneath the covers.
“Like watching me naked, eh?” Callum teased as he pulled her into his arms.
“Of course not. I am just continually astonished at your utter lack of modesty.”
He laughed and kissed her. Bethoc clung to him as he skillfully stole her wits with his kiss. It was something she hoped he never discovered.
She stretched luxuriously as he kissed his way down her body. For a time he honored her breasts with his hands and mouth. She clutched at his shoulders when he took her nipple deep into his mouth and sucked, then lightly nipped it. The feel of that light pain shot straight to the core of her.
Then his kisses reached that spot between her legs and she tensed. She reached down to grab his hair and pull him away but in the time it took her to do that, the shock that had briefly checked her passion faded and her desire rose so fast it left her dizzy. Bethoc wove her fingers into his hair and held him where he was.
She became aware of him running his hands over her legs. Strangely that touch soothed even as what he was doing with his mouth drove her wild. When he slid two fingers inside her, he then did something with his tongue that caused her raging desire to rapidly erupt and she cried out his name as pleasure swept her away.
Callum gave her no time to catch her breath. He kissed his way back up her body, his fingers still teasing her. Bethoc was stunned by how swiftly her passion stirred back to life. She was trembling with need by the time he touched his mouth to hers.
“Bethoc,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek. “Mine.”
“And are ye mine?” she asked quietly, amazed she was able to form words.
“I do believe I am,” he said as he slowly joined their bodies. “So, are ye mine?”
Bethoc tensed briefly at his question then relaxed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Aye, I rather thought I said so by coming here.” He was moving so leisurely she was astonished to feel her desire sparking into full life, especially after it had been satisfied so recently and thoroughly.
“Such bonnie breasts,” he murmured before kissing them.
His soft flattery made her blush even as his hands and mouth roused the need she had thought had gone quiet. She slid her hands down to cup his buttocks, enjoying the feel of them flexing as he moved. Then he slipped his hand between their bodies and touched her, lightly stroked that part of her that made her crazed.
Callum watched as Bethoc struggled to hang on and then fell. He felt her body tighten around him and swiftly joined her in that blissful descent, his release so powerful it left him shaking. For a long moment he held himself steady over her, kissed her, and struggled to regain his senses. When he finally left her, he rolled onto his back and pulled her limp, panting body into his arms. He had lasted longer this time, he thought with a smile.
“Ah, lass, ye are going to make me old before my time,” he teased and she laughed, warming his chest with her breath.
Bethoc kissed his chest and said, “Weel, at least ye will have a verra elegant walking stick.”
He lightly slapped her bottom. “Wretch. So, how do ye like my rooms?”
Propping herself up on one arm and resting her chin on her hand, she looked around the room and then back at him. “They are quite grand.”
“I thought so too, when I first came here. Had a moment of panic.”
She laughed. “So did I.” She looked around again. “So rich and large.”
“Aye. So I thought. And when my grandfather died and I realized he had named me his heir”—he shook his head—“it took all I could muster nay to hide under this grand bed, hide from everyone who was now looking to me, to Callum the street brat, to be their laird.”
“There is nay wrong with a street brat. ’Tis just a child tossed aside most times.”
Callum took a deep breath. He had to tell her. She had a right to know what kind of man she was with, he thought as he slowly let that breath out, reaching for calm. There were times when it affected his behavior, though not as often as it used to. There were times when the dreams would come and he would wake to find himself trembling and hiding in some small, dark place. He still checked for places to hide or escape through whenever he visited a place. His rage could sometimes swamp him when he found a broken child, one who had suffered as he had.
Then there were the knives. She had not noticed yet because he was careful to remove them when there was even the smallest chance she would be close enough for her to know he had them. It was not normal to carry so many knives.
He grimaced. The ones who had beaten him had taken his knives but he had gotten most of them back. That was the moment he had started wearing them again.
“Bethoc, ye do ken I was a bit more than just a street rat, aye?” he said.
“I ken something bad happened after the mon ye mentioned, the bad one, took ye in.”
“He liked young boys.” The way she caught her breath, lifting her head even as her eyes widened, told him she had quickly grasped what he meant. “He got them when they were small, from the streets, from some trusting parents who thought to give their bairn a better life, and from an orphanage. Then he trained them to, weel, accept his ways. Punishment was harsh. E’en for his wife. And when they got too old, he often just killed them.”
“That is why ye look hard at any who want one of your ‘lambs’ as Uven called them.”
“Aye, verra hard. Some who come here have already suffered so I have to be verra careful placing them.”
She stroked his cheek. “But ye got away.”
“Aye, thanks to Kirstie and Payton Murray. They fought for us, for me, Robbie, Simon, and the others. It was a long hard fight, too. Then I found my grandfather and all this.”
“Did they kill him?” she asked in a hard voice. “Did they kill the mon who hurt so many children?”
“Aye, we killed him. Actually Simon did. He was only twelve but we dinnae think he suffered much for it. The mon had killed his father, beaten him and threatened his wee sister—Brenda.”
“Your cook?”
He grinned. “Aye. She loves cooking so I let her be ours when the old cook died.”
“I am glad it all turned out weel but I am verra glad Simon killed the mon. I suspicion he would have smelled terrible. Probably like rotting meat.”
“Aye. But, Bethoc, I am telling ye this because ye have the right to ken what kind of mon ye have accepted into your bed.”
“What do ye mean?”
“Weel, I am soiled. I am nay all this but a feral child, abused and . . .” He halted when she clapped her hand over his mouth.
“What ye being right now is an idiot. Ye are Callum. Aye, ye were a street lad and all that other horror, but ye are nay now. Ye have become Callum who rescues the wee ones who need it, some women, too, and tries to find them homes and a good life. Ye are a laird and e’en in this short time I can see that the people here like ye in that place just fine. I grieve for that child ye were but ye are nay him now.”
He moved her hand. “He slips back,” he confessed softly. “I carry a lot of knives on me at all times. I can get blindly angry. I wake from dreams, nightmares of my time with him and am hiding in a small, dark place, trembling like a wee bairn. Not as much as I used to but it could still happen.”
“Then when ye feel those dreams grab ye, ye just grab me and hold on.”
He just stared at her. Her eyes held nothing but softness and, he thought, as much understanding as anyone who had not suffered as he had could have, and acceptance. Callum felt a stinging in his eyes that told him he was close to weeping like a woman and smiled.
“Aye, I will do that,” he said, and hugged her.
Chapter Seventeen
Wiping the sweat from her face, Bethoc studied the garden she and the boys had finally finished. It was too late to plant anything but a good area was ready for the spring. She was just not sure if they would be at Whytemont then, or might be ready to leave it. The chill of fall was already in the air too often.
“’Tis a fine garden,” said Liam as he sat down beside her. “’Tis a shame it cannae be planted yet. I am a wee bit surprised they didnae have one.”
“It fell into disuse when the laird took ill. By the time he died, and the old cook soon followed him, it was gone, and no one had much interest in bringing it back when they could get all they needed in the village.”
She frowned. “I didnae think, but this could cost the villagers. They must be making a nice profit from the manor.”
“And they still will,” said Callum as he moved next to Bethoc and crouched down beside her. “We have a lot of mouths to feed. My cook, Brenda, is verra pleased to see this, and has a lot of ideas about what she would like to see planted.”
After hasty excuses, the boys ran off to the kitchen to speak to Brenda and Bethoc turned to Callum. “Are ye certain?”
“Oh, aye.” He sat down beside her. “I suspicion by spring she will have more than enough for the boys to plant. ’Tis verra precise,” he murmured, looking at the neatly raised garden beds with neat paths running between them. “They like doing this sort of thing, dinnae they.”
“Aye, more than they have e’er liked working in the fields. ’Tis why I asked if we could do it. I could sense they missed the work. They like working in the dirt, making something, weel, pretty. They saw this at a monastery they snuck into and liked it. The monk that found them creeping about told them a lot, once he realized their interest. He e’en came to the house a few times to see what they were doing.”
“Boys that like to make gardens,” he murmured, and shook his head. “They want to be farmers?”
“I dinnae ken but I dinnae think so. As I said, they dinnae really like working in the big fields. Yet . . .” She frowned. “Liam smells like the earth a bit.”
“Only a bit? What of the other lads?”
“Too young. I dinnae feel or smell anything about a person until they are an adult. Weel, unless there is something verra wrong with them.” Then she noticed his legs. “Ye took Colin’s boot off.”
“Aye. Leg is fine, just a wee bit weak.” He stretched his legs out. “Looks better though.”
Bethoc took a minute to quickly check the area where his bone had been broken, then sat back down. “I believe it is healed but I suspicion ’tis a wee bit weak. Ye should still be cautious with it, I think.”
Highland Chieftain Page 19
