Donnan rubbed the back of his hand across the wee one’s cheek. His voice changed completely to a soft, warm tone. “But I think this bairn knows how charming she is, do you not, my sweet?” He smiled and Liliana giggled, instantly accepting him as a friend.
Bethia’s heart melted.
“Would you like to hold her, Donnan?” Lily asked.
“I would love to, but…”
Kyle said, “Lily, the man just took a sword wound to his belly. He’ll not be lifting aught, or his healer—” he tipped his head toward Bethia, “—will refuse to ever treat him again.”
“True, verra true,” Donnan said, shuffling his feet. “Mayhap another time.”
“Lily, I’d like to eat now, if you do not mind,” Kyle said. “‘Twas a busy morn in the lists. The girls can eat with us.” They headed toward the trestle tables in the middle of the hall.
Sorcha winked at Bethia behind Donnan’s back as she went to the door to greet Cailean.
They were alone.
“Donnan, I know my sire would be happy to speak with you. In fact, he offered to bring me to your cottage after the meal. But I’d like to speak to you alone first, if you please.”
He quirked his brow at her. “Will that be allowed? I’d prefer to do everything properly.”
Bethia’s mother appeared out of nowhere, cupping her elbow from behind and saying, “Greetings to you, Donnan. Would you two like to talk in the solar? We’ll leave the door open so there’ll be no impropriety. I’ll be seated over there near the hearth, where I can see you. Not that I do not trust the two of you, but I know how others talk.”
Bethia glanced at Donnan, waiting to hear his response.
“Aye,” he said, though a strange look crossed his face. “I do need to speak with you and allow you the opportunity to ask the questions you spoke of on the journey back from Edinburgh.”
She nodded and headed into the solar, Donnan following her. She couldn’t help but notice all the gazes that followed them into the chamber off the hall. Her cheeks burned, and she knew without looking they were flushed.
Once inside, she sat in the chair across from her sire’s desk and he settled in the one beside her. “Please allow me to start. I’ve given this much thought, and I believe you need to be aware of everything. I hadn’t wished to confess all, but you deserve to know the full truth.”
Bethia was pleased with this declaration so she folded her hands in her lap, indicating she was ready to listen.
He lifted his gaze to hers and she was lost. There was so much pain in his eyes that it simply broke her heart.
“Bethia, I did not just know the former Earl of Panmure—he was my sire.” He glanced up to see her reaction, but she did her best not to show one. She needed to hear the entire story before she cast judgment.
“Five years ago, I fell in love with a lass unlike any I’d ever met before. Or I should say that I thought I loved her. I met Glenna at court that season. She was quite beautiful, and…” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he continued. “I know not how else to say this, but I was an impressionable young man, and she bewitched me with her talents in the bed chamber. She’d set her sights on me, and I succumbed without much thought.
“My sire called her some verra unkind names. She was a beautiful woman, but he believed her heart was black. I argued with him, but to no avail. He had hoped to marry me to a lass of noble blood.” He sighed and ran a hand through his newly shorn hair. “He’d actually planned to talk with your sire and another laird near the borderland. He begged me to reconsider, threatening to cut me off from my inheritance if I continued my relationship with Glenna.
“I believed in love, and I believed in Glenna, though it proved to be one of my biggest mistakes. Glenna and I found a priest to marry us, and I’d never been so happy.”
He paused to lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. “My family owns two properties: Cairnie Castle and a small cottage outside of Edinburgh. ‘Twas built as a hunting cottage and rarely used by the family. My sire refused to allow us into Cairnie Castle, so I had no choice but to bring my new wife to the cottage.
“The day we arrived outside the cottage was the day Glenna’s lies started to unravel. When she saw the cottage, she was furious, wondering where her servants were and what her new title would be. I explained that we’d given it all up because my sire didn’t support the marriage. She truly believed there was some law that could force my sire to give us the castle.”
He tipped his head with a smile. “I explained to her that she didn’t know my sire verra well.”
“Donnan, forgive me for interrupting, but that man in Edinburgh mentioned something about a sister…”
“Och, aye. I had a brother who was older than me who died when he fell from a horse. I still have a sister, married, and she was living with my sire the last I knew. But she could not inherit the castle if there is a living male. I would have thought my father would have changed his inheritance so that Cairnie Castle would go to her, but apparently he did not. I love my sister, and she married a wonderful man. I’ve not seen her in years.”
He sat back up before he continued. “We lived in the cottage for about a year before it became clear that we could not support ourselves there. I’d set some coin aside, but it dwindled quickly, especially with all the gowns Glenna ordered for her wardrobe.
“Eventually, we were forced to move away. I’d met your uncle, and he was aware of my circumstances. He invited us to Ramsay land and promised not to tell anyone other than your sire of my past. I did not want anyone knowing my true name.”
“What is your true name?”
“Donnan Douglas, who would have been the future Earl of Panmure living in Cairnie Castle had it not been for his foolish besotted behavior over Glenna. Now I recognize how wrong my actions were, but ‘twas too late.”
“Why? I would go to a hunting cottage with you if we were in love. I don’t believe it should matter where you live.” She would follow him anywhere if she was sure of their love.
“Aye, I believe you mean that. However, Glenna would not agree with you. We moved to Ramsay land and she discovered she was carrying our child. We had moved into one of the only available huts at the time, which happened to be about a third of the size of my sire’s hunting cottage. She was not happy, but she had a difficult pregnancy, so she was oft abed. At one point, she confessed that she’d married me because she wanted to be a countess with servants to tend to her needs. She wished for me to go back and beg forgiveness from my father, but I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because my father was the most stubborn man of all, and I have gained much of his stubbornness. Neither of us would give in to the other. I was certain of that, but she would not let it go.
“Then our son was born, and I hoped it would help us repair our marriage and build our family. She found wee Donnie dead less than a moon later. She was never happy after that, and it did not surprise me when she left me for another.”
Bethia considered all he’d told her.
“I told you I would answer any questions you have, so I’m willing to do that now. What else do you wish to ask me?” He sat up and waited for her questions.
“Did you know your father had died?”
He stared at his hands, rubbing one on top of the other. “Aye. Your papa had already informed me of the news.”
“Do you regret that you never saw your father again?”
“Aye, I do,” he said, still rubbing his hands together. Then he looked up at her with his sad gray eyes. “But my first reaction was that he’d gotten his wish. The last thing he ever said to me was that he never wanted to see me again.”
“Oh, Donnan. I’m so sorry he sent you away like that. You have my sympathies.”
“My thanks, but I have learned to accept it. Despite the way our relationship ended, I believe he truly did love me as his son.”
Bethia thought about
her wonderful, close relationship with her parents. How would she go on if she ever lost their love, their approval? “He taught you your love of working with your hands, did he not?”
“Aye. He taught me how to fell a tree—and how to cut it into the best wood. He built small pieces of furniture with me. Those are my favorite memories of my sire, not the ones when he was in full dress. His title always made him seem unapproachable, unreasonable, but he was anything but in my younger days.”
“And your mother?”
“She died within a year of giving birth to my sister. I don’t remember her. I think ‘twas devastating to my sire, if I had to guess, although he did not talk about it often.”
Their conversation brought new clarity to Donnan’s evasiveness yesterday. How did one admit to severing a relationship with a parent, to choosing a woman over one’s family, especially since Donnan clearly recognized his mistake? While she had many more questions, she decided she’d caused him enough pain for one day.
“I only have one more question.” One persistent question that she wished to ignore but could not.
“Go ahead. I’ll answer if I’m able.”
“Are you not still married to Glenna? How could you consider a relationship with me if you are still married to your wife?”
Chapter Fifteen
Donnan was taken aback by Bethia’s boldness, yet he was secretly pleased. He’d prefer a woman who spoke her mind to one who kept secrets and had hidden agendas.
There would be no hidden agendas with Bethia Ramsay.
“I’ve considered that ever since we met, though only briefly at first. Every day I spend with you, I wonder more about it. My intention is to end the marriage by desertion. I may need to place a petition with King Alexander.”
“She did desert you, correct?”
“Aye. A few months after we lost our son, she told me she’d found another. Said she was unhappy in the Highlands because it was so desolate. I wished her happiness and have not seen her since.”
He chuckled. “I also reminded her that Ramsay land, being in West Lothian, is just on the edge of the Highlands, but all she did was curse at me about how isolated we were. Something about new gowns and ribbons…” He waved his hand, indicating he wasn’t interested in his wife’s greedy desires for objects and gems.
“Will you return to Edinburgh now that you know your sire is dead?”
He smirked. “I guess you had more than one question, aye? I do not mind answering.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “I don’t have any desire to take over Cairnie Castle, but my sister deserves to live there with her husband. I’ll likely have to claim my title in order for that to happen. I’ll speak to your sire about how to best approach the matter. I’m not sure if I’m quite ready to travel back to Edinburgh yet. At the moment, I’m more interested in making a particular woman happy.” He glanced at her, eager to see how she would react to that declaration.
He had learned the hard way what mattered in life. Objects, gowns, castles, jewels…they didn’t matter. They couldn’t make one happy. Working with his hands gave him much more satisfaction than anything else he’d ever done, other than becoming a sire to wee Donnie. Those two things had given him a sense of worthiness, not the objects others like Glenna desired.
“Donnan, I don’t know what to say. ‘Tis such a sweet thought.”
He stood up and said, “I meant what I said in Edinburgh. I’d like to ask your sire for your hand if you’ll have me.”
“Why have you changed? You told me before you’d never marry again.”
Hell, but the lass was beautiful, intelligent, curious, and caring, and…what more could he want? More than anything, he wished to make her happy. To be the kind of man who was deserving of her love. How could he explain that?
“Quite simply because being around you makes me happier than I’ve ever been. You are inspiring, and you make me wish to be a better person. You won’t accept mediocrity or laziness from me. I need you in my life. I think we could be happy anywhere. But know this…”
“What?” she asked on a gasp.
This was hardest for him to admit, but it came from his heart. “If ‘twould make you happier for me to step out of your life, I would do it. Just say the word, and I’ll drop my suit.”
He waited, almost afraid to hear her answer, though there was no denying what had transpired between them in Edinburgh. They had a connection. She was a passionate woman, and he would give away ten castles to be the man who showed her what to do with that drive.
Still, he meant what he’d said. If she denied him, he’d walk away even though his heart would be broken.
“I will not deny you, Donnan. I would like to get to know you better. That is where I stand at the moment. You may talk to my sire if it would please you, but I cannot accept or deny your proposal at this time.”
He smiled and stepped closer, giving her a chaste kiss on her lips before they were interrupted.
Her sire stood in the doorway.
Donnan stepped away from Bethia to greet her sire. “Greetings, my laird. May I have a moment of your time?”
“I have the time. I’ll ask my daughter if she minds our conversation?”
“Nay, Papa. Donnan did propose marriage to me, and I told him I’m not ready yet, but that I would like to get to know him better. He also informed me of his true heritage as the future Earl of Panmure.”
Another face appeared in the door. “Good, because I’d like to speak to him about that.” Uncle Logan stood in the doorway.
Bethia crossed her arms in front of her. “And what else do you wish to speak to him about, Uncle?”
“Bethia, I’ve apologized to you already, but beware, Douglas. If you attempt to take the sweetness from my dear niece, you’ll have to answer to me.”
Bethia rolled her eyes and whispered, “Poor Brigid.” With that, she kissed her uncle’s cheek and left.
Donnan watched her leave with regret. He knew her sire would ask him if he’d been honest about everything. He hadn’t been.
He’d told her almost everything about his past, but he couldn’t tell her the one thing that hovered over every day—nay, every moment—of his life.
He couldn’t tell her when there were so many outside the door. She’d either scream or cry.
He had no idea which one.
***
The following morn, Bethia skirted around the field one more time. Today was one of her brother Torrian’s favorite days—the dog races. Her father and brother had carried on a long discussion about canceling or postponing the yearly event because the races took place outside the gates, but Torrian, Logan, and Kyle had convinced her sire that they could make it safe. They would keep everyone in a small area surrounded by guards. Torrian would not be denied this event, though many of his guards would have to listen at a distance instead of attend the races directly.
Logan thought the festival could actually draw Bearchun out, so they decided to hold it in the evening, as usual, with the goal of setting a trap for the fool.
Though she would prefer to stay as far away from Bearchun as possible, Bethia was grateful the event hadn’t been cancelled. In truth, it was one of her favorites as well.
Ever since his dear friend, Growley, had helped him learn how to walk again after his long illness, Torrian had raised and bred Deerhounds, the breed of dogs most loved by the Scots. He loved to deliver new pups to his friends, even giving some to the Grants—people he trusted to treat them well. It was well known that if anyone ever mistreated one of Torrian’s dogs, Torrian would collect the dog and never allow that person another pet.
Wiry, gray hair covered many of his beloved hounds, but red, brown, and white coats were often seen as well. Other dogs were also allowed to compete, and they did so based on their size. Bethia liked watching the deerhounds best because of their long strides. They were quite simply beautiful when in their element, running as hounds were meant to do.
Torrian had always be
en impressed with how intelligent and perceptive his dear Growley had been. The dog had always been his friend and companion, someone he could rely on to help and support him. This event, a series of racing competitions, was about thanking the dogs. He and Kyle had already hunted a boar and a deer, and special bones would go to the winners of the event, while the clan would feast on the deer meat at the end of the day’s festivities.
Bethia brought the new pups with her and found a spot near the race path to settle. She sat on a plaid against the chill and settled the pups in an area around her. It wasn’t long before a gaggle of bairns ran to join her, all begging to play with the pups.
She’d left Bretta back at the stables so she wouldn’t be upset by the attention the pups would receive. They were over a fortnight old, so she’d decided to bring them out to see how they fared with others. Lily came running over with Maggie, each of them carrying a squealing twin. They set the wee lassies down a short distance away, and they immediately crawled into Bethia’s lap. They started pushing each other in an attempt to take a wee bit more of Bethia’s lap.
Lily and Maggie sat down on either side of her with two perfectly timed huffs. “Bethia, did you hear what our uncle is doing?” Lily asked.
“Nay, what?”
“He’s decided to hold a contest for Queen of the Festival.”
Bethia couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “Uncle Logan?” She reached over to grab two pups and settled them in the twins’ laps, much to their delight.
“Aye. Since when does Uncle Logan look at a woman’s beauty? He believes the most beautiful women are the ones who can fire an arrow like Aunt Gwyneth.”
“I agree,” Bethia said, glancing at Maggie. “We all recall how he reacted to the knowledge that you are so skilled with a dagger. What are the qualifications?”
Lily shook her head, apparently still amazed at their uncle. “I heard him say, ‘the most beautiful unmarried Ramsay lass,’ to one, but then he said, ‘the most beautiful soul,’ to another. What do you suppose this is really about?”
Maggie said, “You never know with my sire.” She played with another one of the pups, giggling.
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