Highland Chieftain

by Hannah Howell

  “She is to wed Walter next week,” she said as she stood holding Robbie’s hand.

  “Ah, that is good, I hope.” She watched Robbie kiss Laurel on the cheek and then go join Callum.

  “’Tis. She told me she doesnae ken when their childhood friendship changed but it had. I think some of Walter’s guilt has eased as weel. No one blames him for the women who were hanged but they did blame the sheriff and his men. They have all been hanged, ye ken, and Walter did all he could to make sure what was done to me was kept a secret. I went to the hangings but although a part of me was eased, I didnae get any joy out of it. It was all rather sad.”

  “Aye, ’tis. I hope Walter continues to lose his guilt as he doesnae deserve to suffer.”

  “Nay. And he spoke up to Lorraine quickly,” Laurel said with a pointed look at Bethoc. “Ye need to be firm and brave, my friend.”

  “Dinnae nag,” Bethoc murmured, and briefly grinned. “I will think most seriously about it.”

  * * *

  “Are ye going to marry that lass?” asked Robbie as he reached Callum’s side.

  Callum sighed. “I should, shouldnae I.”

  “Aye, and I dinnae understand why ye are so slow to do something. The lass loves ye, if that is what holds ye back.”

  “And just how do ye ken that?”

  “She is with ye. She is nay a wanton lass yet she is your lover. Ye give her no hint of how ye feel about her yet she stays. And then there is the way she looks at ye.”

  “Oh.”

  “Of course, lately, she has a sad look when she looks at ye. I think she is starting to wonder if she is wasting her time.”

  “I have seen it,” he whispered. “I dinnae ken what to do about it.”

  “Say something. Speak your heart to her. Ye best do it soon or ye will find she is gone.”

  Callum knew that was true. He could almost see it coming. What he was not sure of was whether he had the courage to speak the kind of words that would stop it.

  * * *

  Bethoc pulled Margaret away from the boys and went to the horses when she saw that Callum was ready to leave. Callum held the child until Bethoc had mounted and gotten settled then handed her the child. Once he mounted they started on their way. Despite her efforts not to, Bethoc felt her eyes sting with tears. This part of her life was over and she had to accept it. Laurel and Robbie would care well for the boys, she knew, and only felt sorry that she would now see little of them. She made a silent promise that she would not allow them to lose touch.

  “I am sorry about Robbie,” she said, suddenly realizing that Callum had lost someone who had been at his side since he had been a child, someone who knew what he had suffered, had shared that horror. “He willnae come back to Whytemont now.”

  “Nay. And, aye, ’tis something that saddens me, but I am also verra happy for him. He has found the life he wants,” Callum said, and smiled at her. “That is nae small thing.”

  “Nay, it isnae. Laurel loves him.”

  “Good. That’s good. Robbie deserves it.”

  “He does. And Colin and Bean are pleased. They ken they are too young to live alone at the house, that they would be easy prey for anyone thinking to take it, and, I think, they like the promise of being part of a family again.”

  “And by the time Robbie is finished they will have a verra fine house indeed.”

  Bethoc laughed and nodded. They fell into an easy silence yet she caught him sneaking looks at her often enough to make her a little nervous. She wondered if Robbie and Laurel’s announcement had made him think about their own situation. It would be wonderful if it had but she forced herself not to hope. He had had weeks to do or say something to change their situation and had not. Bethoc would not allow herself to think that he would do so now.

  The sun was almost down when they crossed onto MacMillan lands. Callum asked if Bethoc could ride a little farther for Whytemont was only an hour or two away and she agreed even though her backside was already numb. But with the choice of sleeping outside or in a nice soft bed, she was more than willing to endure another hour or so on a horse.

  When Whytemont finally came into view, Bethoc would have done a dance for joy if she was not so uncertain her legs would actually hold her up when she finally tried to stand on them. She waited until Callum took Margaret then slowly dismounted, clinging to the saddle when her feet touched the ground for she knew her legs would fold if she tried to have them carry her weight. The boy who had come to take her horse was fighting a grin. She scowled at him and he looked away, although she doubted he ceased to be amused. Then Callum clasped her hand gripping the saddle horn and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Come along, lass, I will get ye inside,” he said.

  “What about Margaret?”

  “She is with the lads. They will watch her for now.” Since she had begun to walk properly, if very slowly, Callum simply hooked his arm through hers to lead her up to his bedchamber.

  Once inside his room he nudged her toward the bed but noticed she made no move to sit on it. Callum called a maid and ordered a bath for her. Bethoc opened her mouth to protest then shut it. A hot bath was just what she needed. She would apologize later for causing the women so much extra work. As the bath arrived and was being filled, Callum knelt at her feet and unlaced her boots. When he stood up and began to unlace her gown, she placed her hands over his to halt him as she looked for the maids, only to find them now gone.

  “I can undress myself,” she said, and frowned at him when he grinned.

  “Now, allow a poor mon to help prepare his lass for her bath.” He nudged her hands out of the way and took her gown off. “I am going to take care of ye.”

  Bethoc thought on protesting again but gave it up. Considering all that had passed between them a show of modesty now would be foolish. She also wanted desperately to get into that bath. When he tossed the last of her clothing aside, he helped her into the tub. She quickly sank beneath the water and sighed with pleasure as the warmth surrounded her. Closing her eyes she let that warmth work its magic on all her aches and pains.

  Her eyes flew open when Callum stepped into the tub. The man had shed his clothes quickly. He grinned as he arranged his body around hers. Bethoc narrowed her eyes and, beneath the water, reached out to tickle his foot. She grinned as he yelped and gave an involuntary laugh then pulled his feet back until his legs were bent with his knees nearly up to his chin.

  “Evil lass,” he said, and gathered up the washing cloth, dipping a corner of it into the pot of soap. “Turn round and I will wash your back then ye can do mine.”

  She did as he asked and sighed with pleasure as he gently scrubbed her back. Bethoc was just about to turn to scrub his back when he wrapped his arms around her. He placed his soapy hands on her breasts, his washing of them more of a caress than a hearty cleaning. She slowly leaned back against him, seduced into letting him have his way. Through half-closed eyes she watched his elegant long-fingered hands move down her body, pausing now and then to wash her, until he slipped his hand between her legs. She closed her eyes as he stroked her, finding his touch both arousing and soothing. When her release came it caught her completely by surprise. She had felt her desire growing but it had been so slow she had missed the moment when it had gone from pleasure to demanding need.

  Once she caught her breath, she sat up and turned around. “I was supposed to wash your back.”

  Ignoring his aching need to be inside her, Callum turned. He enjoyed the feel of her small hands on his back. She not only washed him but nicely kneaded the muscles weary from such a long ride. Then her hands were on his chest and he had the feeling he was about to pay in kind for his play. By the time her hand curled around his erection he was desperate enough for her that he doubted he would be able to enjoy her touch for long.

  When she slipped her other hand down to caress his sack, he lost the ability to wait. He turned, picked her up in his arms, and quickly joined their bodies. She gasped and cl
utched at his shoulders. Callum moved her and savored the look of passion on her face. When she took over the movement, he held her and kissed her breasts.

  For a while the lovemaking was slow, sensual, the need tightly held back so the pleasure would last. Callum desperately wanted it to last, wanted her to see that it could be a long, enjoyable wallow in pleasure. Then she gave a little twist of her body and clenched her inner muscles. The last tenuous thread on his control snapped. He grabbed her by the hips even as he straightened up and kissed her. The finish came quickly then, both of them crying out as the pleasure swept over them and took them down.

  “The water is growing cold,” Bethoc muttered against Callum’s chest when she finally regained enough breath to speak coherently.

  “Mayhap ye could carry me to bed.”

  “Drag ye more like and ye will end up with splinters in places ye dinnae wish them to be.”

  Callum laughed and sat up straight. “Suspicion I best learn to walk again then.”

  He got out of the tub and then helped her step out. It was not hard to see that she was suddenly uncomfortable with her nudity for her cheeks were flushed a bright red and she could not look at him. As he dried himself off, he watched her wrap a drying cloth around herself and use another to dry off her arms and legs. He wrapped his around his waist as she moved to her bags that had been brought in by the maids and pulled out a clean shift and braies. She then managed to get them both on and discard the drying cloth without revealing anything in what he decided was a clever sleight of hand.

  “I best go see what Margaret is getting into,” she said as she finished lacing up her gown and reached for her shoes.

  “Probably just running her wee legs off after being trapped on a horse all day.” Callum donned his shirt and started to put his plaid on, inwardly cursing himself for the knot of words caught in his throat, words he could not seem to spit out even in the throes of passion. “Ye worry about her.”

  “Aye. She is just fearless enough to get herself in trouble or hurt. The boys are too young to protect her from everything.” She moved toward him, picking up his clan badge from the small table near the bed. “’Tis a hard path one must walk with Margaret. Ye have to keep her safe yet ye dinnae want to dim that courage she has, make her fearful.” She paused in front of him to carefully pin the brooch in place.

  Callum tugged her close and kissed her, trying desperately to let her know how he felt even though he knew it was not enough. She looked pleasingly flushed when he let her go but only smiled and left to go find Margaret. Callum cursed, and followed a moment later.

  * * *

  Bethoc sat on the grassy hillside and watched Margaret race around with the boys. Liam was at that age where he could occasionally think himself too old to play with the younger ones but chasing a ball around suited him. He had magnanimously partnered with Margaret and Cathan against Georgie and Gavin plus some young boy from Whytemont. Bethoc could see that Margaret and Cathan were beginning to falter, however. She smiled as a moment later Liam ordered the game over and started to bring the two little ones over to her.

  “Thank ye. I was going to call them soon anyway.” Bethoc kissed Margaret’s cheek. “’Tis time to eat. I just heard the bell rung calling us in to sup.” She stood up and brushed off her skirts. “And the light is nearly gone.”

  “Days are growing shorter,” Liam said as he carried Cathan and walked beside Bethoc. “How fare Bean and Colin?”

  Bethoc told him everything she had learned and seen, including about the coming marriage of Robbie and Laurel. Just talking of the two lovers gave her a pang. She was very happy for them but could not fully suppress a stab of envy. Somehow, if she wanted even a small chance for having what Laurel had found with Robbie, she needed to build up the courage to tell Callum how she felt and what she wanted.

  It was past time she did a little pushing, Bethoc thought as they entered the great hall. She had been all that was amiable, following him around without complaint or demand. In truth, she had been amiable about everything. At some point she should have spoken up, she thought. Once Angus had been taken off and there was no longer any danger to her, so why had she let him take her with him?

  Sitting down next to him, Bethoc tried not to sulk as she continued to ponder what she did or did not have with Callum. They were lovers but she had no proof, nothing to cling to in order to reassure herself, to say she was any more than that. She believed they were friends and felt confident in that. He had told her about his childhood although he had been careful not to be blunt, but she suspected that care was taken simply because she was a woman. Despite all women dealt with day to day, men still believed they could not hear the bad things.

  It was not enough, she decided. She could no longer be just his lover. Nor could she continue to stay around until he decided he was tired of her. That was a humiliation she did not even want to think about.

  By the time the meal was done, she had given herself an aching head. She excused herself and took Margaret up to bed. Tucking the child into bed after changing her into a small night shift, she told her a story. She smiled when the child fell asleep before she was even half the way done. She kissed the little girl then went to ready herself for bed.

  Even as she changed into her night shift she wondered if it was the right thing to do. If Callum did not say what she needed to hear, it would be awkward to get up and get dressed before leaving. Then she shook her head as she climbed into bed. No matter what happened she intended to have one last night with him. Crossing her arms beneath her head she stared up at the ceiling and prayed he did not linger down in the great hall for too long. The last thing she needed was to lose the courage she had spent the day building.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Callum found himself alone with Simon and Uven shortly after Bethoc left. He sighed and realized he missed Robbie more than he had thought he would. Before, there had been some small chance Robbie would return, but there was no chance at all now. He wished the man well but would have preferred he had found a lady at Whytemont to love.

  “Here’s to Robbie,” said Simon, raising his tankard of ale. “Going to miss the big oaf.”

  They all knocked their tankards together and then drank before Callum said, “She is a beautiful lass. Ye might not have seen that when she was in the prison. She also loves him. The lads he was watching o’er are verra happy he is staying with them, him and Laurel and young Magnus, at least until they are older. He is improving their house while they work in the fields and a big harvest is promised this season so they shall have money enough.”

  “He has found his place.”

  “Aye, Simon, he has. He has found himself a whole family.”

  “So, when do ye follow his lead, my friend?”

  Callum sighed and took a deep drink. “Who says I want to?” Both men laughed and Callum frowned at them as he refilled his tankard. “What is so cursed funny?”

  “Ye are,” said Simon. “’Tis either laugh or berate ye for being an idiot.” Simon studied Callum’s face before looking at Uven and saying, “I believe ’tis the latter choice. Sad.”

  Uven smiled briefly then studied Callum. Callum began to shift in his seat, uneasy under that steady stare. It was as if Uven was seeing deep inside him, seeing what he kept hidden from himself and others. Uven had been able to do it since they had been boys and Callum had hated it from the start. He did not want someone seeing too much, seeing the dark places that still lingered, and if he did not love the man like family, he might have sent him away. Being part Murray, Uven had a small gift and Callum always had to resist the urge to ask him what he saw.

  “Ye have to do something, Callum. Ye give her no reason to stay otherwise,” said Uven.

  “I will do something. And what do ye mean I give her nay reason to stay?”

  “A reason aside from your skill beneath the sheets,” drawled Simon, “which I dinnae believe is as vast as ye sometimes claim.”

  “Vaster than y
ours.”

  “I but keep my experience most secret.”

  “’Tis nay hard to keep secret one or two bouts.”

  “Boys,” said Uven in a good imitation of a stern father, “I believe ye have wandered off into a pointless argument. We were discussing Callum’s current lady and what he should do.”

  “There is naught to discuss,” said Callum, but he doubted either man would listen to him.

  “Oh aye, my friend, there is. Ye need to either wed her or let her go.”

  “And why would ye say those are my only choices? Where is the let things stay as they are choice?”

  “In the midden heap where it belongs,” Uven snapped. “Ye cannae keep treating her like your mistress. That is what ye are doing, as if ye didnae see it yourself. Ye just tote her around with ye yet ne’er go beyond that.”

  “How do ye ken I havenae?”

  “I ken ye. Most people would look into their own hearts and see that they need to speak out but ye are hiding all feeling as ye always do. Turning away from it in any way ye can. Weel, except the lusting. That lack is the cause for the sadness in her eyes from time to time.” When Callum just frowned, Uven sighed. “Something ye have also seen and yet ye still say nothing, offer nay soft words, or cut her loose.”

  “For what? She cannae go home now. Robbie and Laurel are there.”

  “And so ye have another reason to tell yourself why ye are keeping her close.” Uven shook his head. “Ye need to give the poor lass a home. Jesu, Callum, can ye nay see how unkind ye are being?”

  “I have ne’er been unkind to her.” Callum could hear the lack of force and conviction behind his words and inwardly winced.

  “Ye are treating her as if all ye do for her is a favor and the fact that ye are lovers is just a pleasant benefit. She loves ye and ye just ignore it.”

  “Ye cannae be sure . . .” He fell silent when Uven made a slashing movement with his hand that cut off his words.

  “We dinnae happen to be idiots. ’Tis there to see if one just looks. E’en the people here have taken to calling her m’lady, though she keeps correcting them, for they see and assume, because ye keep her with ye, that ye ken it, that ye will soon make her the lady of Whytemont. She has walked away from two lads who were like family to her to stay with ye. Her home, too. I think, if she didnae have the four children with her, she would walk away from ye as weel soon. A lass can only give her all to a mon for so long with nay return before she realizes she begins to shame herself. Ye need to marry the lass, ye fool.”