Bethia

by Keira Montclair

  What she heard next caused her to lose all sense of reason, something she couldn’t even begin to understand.

  His wife had accused him of killing their son. Killing. She’d called him a murderer, threatened to inform their king.

  If it were true, Donnan would be hanged.

  Could it be true?

  Her mother would have known, wouldn’t she have? She scrambled to recall her mother’s exact words about the bairn’s death. He’d died in his sleep. That was exactly what she’d said, the bairn had fallen asleep and never awakened.

  How could that be considered murder?

  Was his wife telling the truth or fabricating something for her own benefit?

  Something inside Bethia shattered and she started running, searching for an area where she could be alone. She ran and ran, tears flooding her cheeks until she could not see anything in front of her. She wished to run away from Donnan’s beautiful wife and her nasty accusations.

  She couldn’t believe it of him—she just couldn’t.

  Her feet carried her deeper into the forest until a pair of arms grabbed her from behind. She screamed, only one word on her mind.

  Bearchun.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Donnan grabbed her from behind, sick that she’d overheard his conniving wife. Bethia turned around and shoved against his chest. “Leave me be. Unhand me, you brute!”

  “Bethia, it’s me. I’m sorry. Please allow me to explain.”

  She shoved him again, but the effort was only half-hearted this time. “Did you truly murder your own son?”

  “Bethia, listen to me.”

  She squirmed and struggled against him, so upset that she was unable to listen to reason, but he wouldn’t let her go, not until she allowed him the chance to explain.

  “Bethia, ‘twas an accident. An accident.”

  Her gaze caught his and the look in her eyes wrenched his heart.

  “An accident.” He had to make her understand. “I did not do it apurpose.”

  “What? What are you saying?” Her tears slowed, and her breath hitched in response to his declaration.

  “Sweet, will you listen? Allow me to explain. Please, I beg you. I’ll not survive if you believe something so horrible of me.”

  Nodding, she gripped his forearms. “I’m listening.” She gulped and gazed up at him.

  He rubbed his thumbs across her arms. “I took him to bed with me. He was crying because his belly ached, I think. Glenna put him in his cradle, and he screamed so, I could not bear it. I picked him up and held him close, hoping my body heat would soothe him. He fell asleep, and so did I. When Glenna awakened me a few hours later, she was screaming that he was dead. And he was…dead in my arms. But I know not how he died. Your mother came to see him and said bairns just die in their sleep sometimes. But Glenna? She told your mother over and over again that I had rolled over him in my sleep and suffocated him.”

  Bethia’s hand went straight to her mouth. “Oh, Donnan. How horrible.”

  “If she wishes to make trouble, she will.”

  A voice from behind him interrupted them.

  “So you are slipping your cock into a sweet lassie. Is she not a chunky one?” Glenna stood not far from them, a wide smile on her face.

  “Do not talk of her that way, Glenna. This is Quade and Brenna’s daughter and you will not disrespect her. We have not had relations.”

  “Yet. As I said, Donnan, you may keep her. This is even better. Now I have something more to hold over your head.”

  He turned around to face her. “I knew your heart was black, but this is low even for you. I’ll take my inheritance and gift you with all the coin you need to stay away from me. This marriage is over in my eyes. You are a conspiring, scheming wastrel. Leave now. I’ll get your coin when I travel to Cairnie Castle. Come to see me in three days and I’ll arrange for your funds, but only under the condition that you stay away from me. You cannot desert me and return whenever you have a whim. I intend to dissolve this marriage by desertion. I’ll petition King Alexander. Do you hear me, Glenna?”

  She came closer to him and said, “Dig deep, husband. I’ll be needing a large sum to support me for the rest of my days. I doubt you’ll find enough coin to satisfy me, but you may try.” She turned away, then spun back to face Bethia. “My dear, all he cares about is building ridiculous contraptions. Do not be foolish, although—” she glanced up and down Bethia’s body, “—mayhap he’s all you’ll get.”

  Bethia whispered, “Your opinion means naught to me. Clearly, you think a woman’s value is only in her looks. I have far greater assets, but you should stay out of the sun. Those wrinkles around your eyes will continue to grow deeper.”

  Glenna’s eyes widened. She reached her hand back to slap Bethia, but Donnan stayed it. “Go, or I’ll call the guard to drag you away. You have no say here. You denounced Clan Ramsay.”

  She picked up her skirts and spun on her heel, mumbling and cursing all the way out of the forest.

  Donnan glanced at Bethia and took two steps forward until he stood close enough to kiss her. She didn’t move, confusion and uncertainty in her gaze. He cupped her face and kissed her hard. She moaned and parted her lips, allowing him access, and their tongues dueled in a furious battle. He kissed a path down her neck and reached down until his hands touched her hips and then her bottom, tugging her close. He’d guessed she would feel his erection against her skirts, but what she did next couldn’t have surprised him more. She angled herself so his hardness hit her at just the right spot.

  Donnan growled and his mouth descended on hers again as he ravished her, slanting and tasting every part of her before his lips moved to the small bone at the base of her neck.

  “Never, never doubt your beauty, Bethia. You are the most stunning creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of holding in my arms. Forgive me for what I’ve put you through.”

  Her eyes blazed with passion and pain, if it were possible to experience both at the same time. She brought her hand up and rested it on his chin, her thumb delicately touching his lower lip. “I’m sorry for what happened to your son, but I know with all my heart that you did not intentionally hurt him. Shame on your wife for making you believe such an awful thing.”

  “I love you, Bethia. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.”

  She sighed and her voice came out in a whisper. “I’m falling in love with you, Donnan. But I still do not know what to do about it.”

  He leaned his head forward until his forehead touched hers. “Your love empowers me. It tells me I’ve finally done something right in my life to earn something of such value. My thanks for believing in me.” He stepped back and held his hand out to her. “Come. I’ll walk you back, my beauty.”

  She placed her hand in his and he was humbled by her trust in him.

  But his world had crumbled because, much to his chagrin, he was once again a married man.

  ***

  Once they found their way out of the forest, they searched the area for Glenna, both of them pleased to see she and her guards had left.

  Bethia smiled at Donnan, loving the feel of his hand wrapped around hers. She could forget everything when she was around this man—the taunts, the threats, everything.

  Even Glenna.

  He dropped her hand and said, “I think I need to return home. There are too many people about for me. I enjoy the quiet.” He did a small bow, whistled for the dogs, winked at her, and left.

  Bethia watched him leave. He leaned down to pet each dog before he headed back toward his land, picking his bow up where he’d dropped it and checking to be sure he still had his dagger. The last thing he did before he broke into a run was peek back at her over his shoulder and mouth the words, “I love you.”

  She nodded, placing her hand on her heart.

  The sound of the races beckoned to her, for it had built up in volume, telling her they were drawing closer to the end. The last race was everyone’s favorite—the dee
rhounds. If she didn’t hurry back, Torrian would come looking for her. As she reached the edge of the crowd, surrounded by Ramsay guards, Bothan appeared at her side.

  “Greetings, my lady.” Bothan was an attractive enough man, but not as good-looking as Donnan.

  She chastised herself for the direction her thoughts always turned. “Greetings, Bothan. Are you enjoying the races?”

  “Aye. Torrian’s dogs usually win, though there are some good contenders this year.” His hand reached to the small of her back and he ushered her toward the bellowing crowd of enthusiastic supporters.

  Henson appeared on her other side. “Greetings, Lady Bethia.”

  “Greetings, Henson.”

  He moved past her and said, “Why are you here, Bothan? The lady prefers my company, for certes. Take your leave, if you please.”

  Bothan’s face turned as red as the Grant plaid they saw on occasion. “For certes, she prefers me. Is that not right, Lady Bethia?”

  Bethia glanced from one to the other, shocked that Henson would dare approach her after the way their walk had ended. His face still bore the mark of her fist. She wasn’t quite sure how to handle it, but her gut told her that it didn’t matter. These were two very immature lads, quite different from the tortured but kind man she’d just left.

  Her mother rescued her. “Bethia, there you are. Lads, would you mind if I had a word with my dear daughter?”

  Both of them turned to answer her mother, agreeing to her request and nodding to her before stepping away. The two of them continued to argue as they stepped away, their voices far louder than they likely thought they were.

  “You’re only interested in her because she’s the laird’s sister.”

  “Not true, but if it were, ‘tis better than you wishing to be next to her if she’s declared Queen of the Festival. If I recall, she was not pleased with your last encounter, Henson. Leave her be.”

  “I’m sure she prefers me, so please do not bother us again. I have plans for later.”

  “And I have plans for the two of us, as well. Stand back and let our romance begin. Do not get in my way, or I’ll call a duel.” After that, the sound of their bickering finally faded.

  Bethia let out a huge sigh and stared at her mother. “What am I to do?”

  “You are not interested in either one, are you?” her mother whispered. “Your heart belongs to another already. I can see it whenever he’s near. Where did he go?”

  “I cannot hide aught from you, Mama. Aye, ‘tis true. I believe Donnan has my heart, but the situation does confuse me.” She managed to pull her mother away from the crowd a bit so they could talk privately. “Mama, I met Glenna.”

  Her mother sighed loudly. “I heard she was here. What did she want?”

  “She threatened him. She came back because she heard the old earl has passed. She wants Donnan to accept his inheritance, become Earl of Cairnie Castle. She wishes to be a countess.”

  “And how was Donnan with her?”

  “He does not have any feelings for her, at least any warm feelings. That was quite clear, and his lack of love was reciprocated. She was not kind at all, only demanding.”

  “And did Donnan put an end to her demands?”

  Her eyes misted at the memory of Donnan’s posture and the expression on his face when his wife accused him of the worst crime possible.

  “What is it? Tell me, child.”

  Her mother put her arms around her and all she could do was bury her face in her mother’s shoulder. “She accused him of killing their son. He told me what happened, how the babe had been crying. Glenna ignored him, so Donnan picked him up from the cradle and took him to bed with him. He was dead by morn, and Glenna accused him of suffocating him.”

  “That is nonsense. It was then, and it is now. I was there. Bairns have been known to take their last breath for no reason. She cannot blame the babe’s death on him with no proof.”

  Brenna pulled back to look at her mother. She whispered, “She threatened him, Mama. If he doesn’t resume the marriage and accept the earldom, she’ll tell our king that he murdered their son.”

  Her mother closed her eyes and sighed. “Bethia, she cannot do any such thing. As I said, she has no proof. I was there in the morn and I saw no evidence of such a thing. I could testify to our king. However…”

  She didn’t like her mother’s last word. “What is it?”

  “However, she does pose a definite problem.”

  “What?”

  Her mother shook her head as if to deny everything that had transpired. “He’s still married. If she accepts him as her husband now, I know not how he can arrange to end the marriage.” She brushed the stray hairs back from her daughter’s face.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” She sniffled, doing the best to stop her tears before they flooded her cheeks. Why had she lost her heart to a married man?

  “I’ll talk to your sire and Uncle Logan. Mayhap they can see another way out of this for Donnan. Glenna was not a nice woman, and she did desert him.”

  “She has not changed a bit.”

  Shouts from the small platform that had been set up at the end of the field caught their attention. Uncle Logan waved everyone over. “Join me for the special announcement. Our Queen of the Festival will be chosen soon and given a crown of flowers to wear for the day.”

  Her mother grabbed her hand and tugged her in his direction.

  “Mama, what is Uncle Logan about? Why is he doing this?”

  “I know not, but we’re about to see.”

  They reached the edge just in time for the announcement.

  “So the verra first Ramsay Queen of the Festival has been chosen. She is the lass with the warmest heart of all and deserves our congratulations.”

  Someone tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “My lady, someone has fainted. Could you check on her please? She’s carrying and she passed out in the field.”

  “Of course,” her mother said as the messenger hurried away.

  “Mama, would you like my help?”

  “Nay, ‘tis a fainting. Quite common in those carrying late. Stay and listen to Uncle. I want to hear all about it,” she whispered at the end. Then she took off after the messenger.

  Bethia turned back to her uncle, still standing in front of the large crowd filled with many hopeful lasses.

  “And the first Ramsay Queen is…”

  Everyone leaned forward in anticipation of his announcement, and Uncle Logan did his best to drag it out.

  “And the winner is…”

  More leaning.

  “Bethia Ramsay.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bethia’s knees buckled and she did her best not to faint. She didn’t want to give her mother another patient to treat. In a state of shock, her feet didn’t move until she was pushed from behind amidst all the cheering. Somehow, she managed to ascend the platform, and her uncle hugged her and placed the crown of flowers on her head.

  He whispered, “You deserve this. Do not listen to anyone who says otherwise.”

  So that was why he’d done this.

  She turned toward the crowd and forced a smile, staring down at a sea of smiling faces and, aye, a few angry ones. Those lasses were apparently upset that she had been chosen instead of them.

  She wished to throw the crown into a loch and punch her uncle for doing this to her.

  Climbing down from the platform, she moved as if in a trance, thanking all the well-wishers, ignoring the others. Lily, Maggie, and Sorcha came up to hug her, Jennet and Brigid directly behind them. Brigid jumped up and down, clapping her hands together with excitement.

  “I’m so happy, Bethia. You are the new queen. You deserve it.”

  Lily hugged her, and Bethia whispered, “Why would he do this to me?”

  Lily said, “I know not, but I’ll talk to him.”

  Her family disappeared into the crowd, so she made her way toward the great hall. Night was beginning to fall, and she wished to get ins
ide before the tears fell down her cheeks. The crowd moved with her, as the end of the festivities usually included a huge feast of food and ale for all. At least she could hide in her chamber, claim illness. She searched the area for her mother, but could not find her.

  Gormal and Mor came boldly up to her. Mor said, “You do not deserve that crown. It belongs to Colina. She is the most beautiful of all.”

  “Aye, it should have been Colina’s,” Gormal added.

  Bethia decided to ignore them. She kept moving toward the hall, following the path past the rows of cottages toward the gates and then into the courtyard. Many congratulations came her way, but she also heard other comments.

  “It should have been Colina.”

  “She’s too heavy.”

  “Why would they choose her?”

  “She’s the laird’s sister, that’s why.”

  She was almost to the steps of the hall when an arm grabbed her and yanked her around.

  Colina.

  “I knew it would go to you. You lied to me, said you never entered.”

  “I did not enter. Why do you care? I’ll agree that you are beautiful, but this crown is meaningless.”

  Colina’s hands went to her hips “If ‘tis so meaningless to you, then why do you wear it?” A small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them.

  Bethia closed her eyes and shook her head. “It means naught to me. If it means so much to you, you take it.” She reached up and removed the crown, tossing it to the ground. “I do not want it.”

  She spun around and entered the hall, pushing her way toward the kitchens at the back of the hall. She’d rather run to her chamber, but pride stopped her.

  Once she reached the back of the hall, she paused to gather herself and entered the kitchens, knowing all the serving lasses would be in the back, watching her every move. “Good eve to you, Cook. What have you on the night’s menu?”

  “Many wonderful meat pies. ‘Twas a lovely day for the festivities, was it not?”