Donnan had clearly washed and combed his hair, although he hadn’t trimmed anything. He greeted Quade first, nodded and said, “My laird.”
Then he turned his attention to Bethia, presenting her the glorious bouquet of autumn flowers in his hand, golds and reds fighting for attention. “For you, Bethia.”
“Many thanks, Donnan. They are lovely. Where did you find them all?” She took the flowers and leaned down to take in their sweet aroma.
He blushed. “The dogs helped me track down sweet-smelling flowers today.”
“Wynda, too?”
“Nay. She’s much better, but she only moves to the stream and back. She relaxed in the sun when it peeked out earlier today for a short time.” He stood back, his arms crossed behind his back. “May I escort you to the table for something to eat? Or could I bring you something?”
Since she loved the flowers, she didn’t wish for them to die. “I’ll find a large vase for the bouquet. I’ll be right back. Mayhap you should find yourself something to eat while I’m gone?”
Donnan nodded and did as she’d suggested, so she smiled at her sire and moved toward the kitchens. Along the way, she couldn’t help but overhear a few more comments—some nice and some nasty.
“Daft Donnan is the only one who’s interested in her, and look at all his hair. He never trims it. Bethia deserves better. She has a heart of gold.”
“How embarrassing. She’s the laird’s daughter, and her suitor looks as though he lives in a cave. Does he?”
“Bethia is so sweet. She deserves someone better. Why has no one else come forward?”
“What an odd one Donnan is. Could you imagine giving your daughter to Donnan? I hope the laird doesn’t accept his offer.”
“Look at that. Even he’s gone already. He took three meat pies and ran.”
“Donnan hurried out the front door.”
“Poor Bethia.”
Her lips quivered as she continued on her way, appalled that some already viewed this gathering—and her—as such a failure. Had Donnan thought the same? Why had he left so soon? She vowed not to cry, but as soon as she stepped into the kitchens, she dropped her flowers on a side table and fell onto a stool. Sobs wracked her body.
She’d never be able to show her face in the hall again. Donnan had already left, and he was the only suitor who’d declared his intent. She rushed out the door and down the path toward her mother’s garden.
Chapter Five
Donnan was horrified. He’d heard all the nasty things that had been said about him, and it had so surprised him that he’d grabbed some food and left. He’d almost made it to the gates before realizing what he’d done.
Bethia. He’d left without saying good-bye. Worse, he’d heard a couple of mean-spirited comments about her, too. Lasses could be so cruel to one another. He’d seen her go toward the kitchens, but she’d never returned.
He decided to take a chance and see if she had exited from the back of the keep. Mayhap she’d heard the cruel whispers, too, and had left the hall. If she had run from her own party, he wished to console her. He hadn’t intended to embarrass her.
There was no one behind the keep, so he turned around, discouraged by the way he’d handled himself this eve. He was beyond the teasing mannerisms of youth, but he’d never heard the term “Daft Donnan” before. Was that what people thought of him? Stunned to hear such casual rudeness, he’d done the only thing he could think to do—walk away.
He could tell Bethia had a more tender heart, and she was so young besides. Perhaps he should return to the hall.
He rounded the keep and froze, surprised to hear the sound of a lass sobbing. It had to be Bethia, so he set his meat pies in the crevice of a tree and listened again. Following the soft noises, he discovered her on the bench in her mother’s garden.
He didn’t quite know how to approach her, but he’d be damned if he’d leave her to cry alone. “Bethia? May I join you?”
The poor lass struggled to slow her hitching breath enough to speak, but finally she just nodded her response to him. He sat next to her and she angled her body toward him.
He placed his finger under her chin and lifted her red-rimmed gaze to his. “Lass, do not allow the words of hurtful people to drive you to tears. If you cry, make it for a worthwhile reason.”
She swiped at her tears and looked at him with such trust it almost undid him.
“My apologies if you heard the name the others used for me. ‘Twas the first time I’ve heard it. Had I known they thought that of me, I would not have spoiled your gathering. I did not intend to embarrass you.” He dropped his hand, waiting to see what her response would be.
“I thank you for coming, because if you hadn’t come, there would have…would have…” she hitched again, “would have been no one…” The last word came out in a wail.
Och, if only he could bear the hurt of it for her. Life’s disappointments could be heartbreaking, and she was young enough to assume the few who’d treated her so poorly could be trusted more than those who valued her. “Bethia, why would you believe a few rude lasses above those who care about you? You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen and sparkling eyes to match.” He smiled. “That is, when they’re not full of tears.”
She giggled and he was pleased he could draw that from her. Her laughter was a boon to his soul. Then he did something without thinking. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
He gave her a chaste kiss, not the devouring kind he wished to because she was too innocent. He pulled back to gauge her reaction, and what he saw in her eyes made him return for another. She wanted the kiss as much as he did.
He settled his lips on hers, and his hands on her hips. She jumped at first, but he didn’t remove his hands, instead tugging her closer to him so he could wrap his arms around her and kiss her.
Really kiss her.
He teased her lips with his tongue until she parted for him, allowing him inside to taste her sweetness. She tasted as sweet as honey. He moved slowly, afraid he would frighten her, but she tentatively touched her tongue to his and he groaned, pulling her closer.
She joined him in his fury, his need for her almost consuming him, but he forced himself to stop. The beautiful lass had brought many things to the brim, things he hadn’t thought about or felt in a long time. He felt alive again, something he hadn’t experienced in years. All that had happened had torn him apart, and he’d isolated himself from everyone and anything since. He’d feared feeling again, but suddenly he relished the thought.
All because of a sweet, innocent lass.
But Bethia was the laird’s daughter, and he had gone too far.
He set her away from him and said, “Forgive me. I should not have done that.”
To his surprise, she giggled and her fingers moved up to touch her lips. “Please do not apologize. I am verra glad you did.”
A lass’s voice called to her, so she bolted off the bench. Her cousin Sorcha came flying around the corner, followed by a guard he recognized. Cailean. While he’d kept to himself, he’d come to the castle many times to barter for goods and services from the craftsmen in the bailey, so he recognized many of the Ramsays, especially the men from the laird’s family. He’d kept up with some of the events this way.
“Bethia? Bethia? Are you here?”
He moved to stand behind Bethia, and she ran to her cousin, who apparently hadn’t noticed them in the dark. While he shouldn’t be here alone with her, he wouldn’t run and try to hide like a laddie would.
“Bethia? Are you all right?” Sorcha asked.
She laughed and said, “I couldn’t be any better. I’ll go back with you now.”
Cailean looked at him with surprise. “Donnan?”
“I heard her crying, so I came back to see if I could assist. I thought perhaps she’d fallen and hurt herself. She’s fine.”
Bethia said, “He was just consoling me. I feel much better now.”
Sorcha narrowed her gaze—fi
rst at him and then at her cousin—but she must have dismissed her suspicions, for she took Bethia’s hand and said, “Come. Your sire is searching for you.”
Bethia followed her cousin, but she glanced over her shoulder and laughed, her gaze catching his.
Donnan had a new goal in life. He would do anything he could to hear the jingle of her sweet laughter again.
***
Once she stepped inside the hall, all eyes were on her. She blushed, a huge smile on her face because she’d just experienced a taste of what the rest of the world knew.
She’d been kissed for the first time.
Her father appeared at her side. “Bethia? Where are you coming from? The last I saw you, you were headed to the kitchens.”
Her father had an expression on his face she rarely saw—he was near frantic with worry.
“Papa? No need to worry.”
Her sire asked, “You’re not listening to the young ones in the clan, are you? I’ve heard some cruel comments.”
Her uncle Logan and Aunt Gwyneth joined them. “Just say the name, and I’ll teach them to mind their manners,” Uncle Logan barked.
“Logan,” Aunt Gwyneth said, setting her hand on Bethia’s shoulder. “Bethia is quite capable of taking care of herself. If someone bothers her, she’ll put a stop to it. Aye, lass?”
Before she could respond, Aunt Gwyneth pulled her away from the men and whispered, “Listen, if you need me to show you how to protect yourself, just let me know. Your father would fall apart if you told him aught. But I’ll help you.”
Bethia glanced around at the family she adored. They truly loved her. She had so many cousins that she often felt overlooked. “Mayhap someday soon, Aunt Gwyneth. I do travel outside the walls often, though usually I have guards with me.”
“Just tell me.”
Her mother came up behind her and set her hands on her shoulders. “Come sit by the hearth with me for a moment.”
She followed her mother away from the crowd that had formed around the minstrels and the food. “What is it, Mama?”
“I was sure you were about to cry when you went into the kitchens.”
She settled in the chair next to her mother. “Aye, I was upset at what some of the lasses were saying about me and Donnan, and how there were no other suitors here, but I’m better now. I know ‘tis best for me to stay away from them.”
“Sorcha cured them of their rudeness.”
She quirked her brow, wanting to ask her how her cousin had accomplished it, but decided she did not wish to focus on that part of the night.
“Donnan left early and you ran into him outside?”
“Aye,” she replied, surprised her mother had noticed. She’d never been able to fool her mother before. “He helped me realize that I should celebrate those who care for me and ignore the rest.”
“Frankly, I’m glad you haven’t had many suitors. Remember how confused Gracie said she was when she had her party? ‘Tis better to only have serious, mature suitors. Is Donnan truly interested in you? He has a troubled past, but he’s still a good man.”
She hoped his kiss meant he was interested, but she wasn’t ready to share that with her mother yet. “I’m not sure. He noticed I hurried out the back. He also heard what was said about him.” She stared at her hands, hating that people were so shallow they couldn’t see beneath the surface. True, his appearance was a bit different, but what other man would tend so lovingly to his dogs? His heart was as large as they came. “Mama, you should see all the creations he has inside his cottage. Papa knows all about it.”
Her mother quirked her brow, apparently intrigued. “Hmmm, mayhap I’ll ask your father to take me out there to see what he has done. It does sound quite interesting. You enjoyed your time with him?”
“Aye, I did. If no one offers for me, I’ll be fine.”
“But this came about quickly. Mayhap I made a mistake by holding the event so soon. Had we waited another fortnight, the word would have passed beyond our lands. Mayhap there’s a neighboring laird who is in search of a wife. I can ask your sire to check.”
“Nay, Mama. Please do not. Look what happened to Gracie when lairds beyond the clan learned of her desire to wed. Had she accepted, she would have spent the rest of her life in a castle far away from home. I do not want that. I would prefer to stay on Ramsay land. Please, Mama.”
“Gregor said a couple of other lads asked about you, so Donnan isn’t the only one who’s interested. Why not forget what happened and see who else is here. Do you wish to mingle again, or are you ready to end it?”
Feeling a bit giddy over the kiss she had shared with Donnan, she said, “I’ll mingle. I’d like to see who else has arrived in my absence.”
Her mother whispered, “I know you are often displeased with your size, but ‘tis what is on the inside that matters most.”
“I know, Mama. You’ve told me many times. I wish all felt the way you do.”
“Anyone with a strong character does feel the way I do.”
Her mother followed her back to the crowd. She could see the concern on her sire’s face, so she gave him a wide smile before she entered a group around the food table, sidling up between Gavin and Gregor.
Gavin tipped his head toward a lad who was just joining their group. “Bethia, you remember Bothan, do you not?
“Aye. Greetings to you, Bothan. Are you enjoying the food?”
He blushed and said, “Aye. You are…you look pretty, my lady.”
“My thanks.” Her gaze took in everything she could about Bothan. He was average in appearance. Brown hair slightly lighter than hers. He had kind eyes and a mass of freckles across his nose and a grin that told her he wasn’t as mature as Donnan.
Or as handsome.
Which reminded her of something she needed to do. She excused herself and rushed back to the kitchens to retrieve the flowers Donnan had given her. When she arrived, she was pleased to see someone had already arranged them in water. A pair of warm gray eyes popped into her mind.
She carried the flowers back to the hall and set them on a table, admiring them again. What a kind gesture it had been. Then she squared her shoulders and headed back into the thick of the crowd to mingle, promising herself she would not compare each lad with Donnan.
A sigh escaped her lips. If she did, they were all doomed.
***
Bearchun almost fell out of the tree he was perched in to observe the festivities. Overflowing with happiness, he had to force himself to keep from shouting. The night couldn’t have been more perfect. Sweet Bethia was kissing lads already. What a surprise he had for his new partner.
The lass was growing up. This fit perfectly into his plan. There would be even more ways they could use her.
He threw his arms up in the air and almost knocked himself out of the tree.
The possibilities he had for revenge were now endless.
Chapter Six
Two days later, Donnan traipsed over to the apple tree not far from his property one last time. He’d already carried two large sacks into the cold storage he’d built beneath the ground. There was only enough ripe fruit for one more bagful. He hoped the tree would continue to produce before the first heavy frost settled in.
He moved slowly, turning around to check on his dear friend, Wynda, who continued to improve each day. Today he’d noticed her tail wagging on several occasions, a sign he took to mean that the worst was over for her.
He knew he was too committed to his animals, but they soothed his loneliness and helped fill the hole in his life.
But Bethia called this new life he’d forged for himself into question.
The lass haunted his dreams and occupied his every thought.
It was wrong; he knew that. She was too young, too innocent—too genuine. If she knew where his thoughts carried him, she’d likely be shocked and appalled, so he poured his energy and focus into physical labor.
A sudden scream rent the air. Donnan dropped his sack and race
d toward the sound, surprised to hear Bethia’s voice yell. “Nay, do not kill him.”
As soon as he broke through the cover of trees, he saw the problem. “Wolf!” Donnan bellowed, calling his unusual friend back. Wolf was not actually his pet since she did not sleep nearby, but he’d met up with the huge beast often enough to consider her his friend.
Not looking friendly at the moment, she stood at the edge of Donnan’s property with her teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. Donnan came up behind her, dropping his voice to indicate he was not a threat. “Wolf, ‘tis Bethia. Stand down.” He petted the animal’s head and the unusual beast sat, her gaze still focused on Bethia and her escorts. “Wolf, you’ll not threaten or harm her ever.”
The animal met his gaze, and he felt an understanding pass between them.
“My thanks,” Bethia whispered. “She’s a beauty.”
While others feared the animal on instinct, Bethia seemed to genuinely admire the creature. There were not many who loved animals as much as he did, but it was clearly something he and Bethia shared.
He made his way to her horse, reaching up to help her dismount, then grabbed her satchel for her. Her gaze stayed on Wolf, which pleased him because it gave him the chance to stare at her beauty up close, something he hadn’t had the chance to do before today.
Once she had dismounted, she turned to her guards and said, “Please check the periphery. Donnan has control of the wolf.”
The guards departed, their gazes darting to the wolf before they left to follow her instructions.
Bethia peered up at him, her tentative smile filling him with heat. He averted his gaze, fearing the consequences if he did not. The lass had a profound effect on him that he struggled to understand.
“Tell me more about the wolf.” She didn’t move, waiting for the animal to indicate her acceptance of the new stranger.
Donnan shrugged his shoulders. “She visits me on occasion. I’ve not had any trouble with her. It took her two moons before she would come close enough to allow my touch. Now she comes twice a sennight for a bit of affection from me and my dogs. It took me a while to get used to her, and her to me.”
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