Wanting to change the subject, she pushed herself up on her elbows. 'I feel an awful fraud, lying here, and I'm absolutely ravenous.'
'Well enough to come down to dinner?' Ishbel asked eagerly. 'Mother and Dad are back now and are dying to see you.'
'And I want to see them too.' Bethan smiled in
anticipation, her earlier restraint at the thought of facing them gone. But as she swung her legs off the bed she couldn't resist asking, 'Is Fraser with them? He must have had to carry me up here and I want to thank him.'
'Fraser? No. He's had to run over to Nunsford.' Ishbel sounded casual, but there was a guarded look in her eyes.
It was as if a giant hand were squeezing Bethan's heart. So Fraser had made his peace with Siriol after all, and their engagement was still on. She knew then that subconsciously she had read too much into his concern for her this afternoon, into the endearments he had uttered, the way he had held her. Although the things she had learned today had changed things dramatically for her, altering her view of herself and what she might now hope for herself in the future, she couldn't suppose they had changed anything for Fraser. His sister's traumatic revelations had merely brought out his old protective instincts, that was all.
Squaring her shoulders she stood up. 'Of course, it's Siriol's party tonight, isn't it? Fraser would have to be there.'
'He explained?' Ishbel looked relieved. 'I was afraid you-might …
Do I have time for a quick shower?' Bethan broke in.
She was proud of the way she got through the evening. From the way she responded to the Lauries' rapturous welcome, talked and laughed over old times, even telling them something of her life over the last ten years, no one would have guessed her heart and mind were thirty miles away where perhaps even now Fraser and Siriol were announcing the date of their wedding.
Ishbel retired to bed early suffering from jet-lag, and her mother urged Bethan to have an early night too. But she was too restless to sleep. With only the bedside lamp casting a soft glow, she sat in her nightdress
beside the window, wondering what she was going to do with her future that had so many more possibilities now, except the one she really wanted.
She put Fraser determinedly out of her mind and tried to decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She admitted she was a coward, but she knew she could no longer face the life of privation and danger with the relief agency without the scourge of her conscience driving her on. But neither did she think she could settle easily into the routine of nursing in a big hospital. She discounted the idea that one day she might forget Fraser and settle for a lesser love that would allow her to raise her own family, but if she couldn't care for her own children, the next best thing was caring for the children of others. It was then she remembered the letters from a one-time colleague in the relief service telling her about her new job nursing in a mission hospital in Kenya. The small hospital was fairly primitive, Helen had written, and they were chronically understaffed, but it was beautiful country, and peaceful too after some of their assignments, and there was the satisfaction of doing a worthwhile job when some of their patients had to travel a hundred miles or more for treatment.
The .headlights of a car coming up the drive attracted her attention, and her heart began to thud heavily as her first thought was that it was Fraser returning. But a glance at her watch showed it was barely midnight. He wouldn't have left Siriol as early as this, even if he intended coming back to Merrifields at all tonight.
But the depth of her longing for him, the power of emotion even thinking about him could conjure up, finally decided her. She would write to Helen offering her services to the mission hospital. Perhaps a job far away from England and all that could remind her of Fraser would eventually help to blunt the pain, help her to forget.
There was a small writing-desk holding paper and
envelopes beside the window. She sat down at it and was halfway down the first page when the door of her room opened.
'I'm sorry if I startled you,' Fraser said as she jumped guiltily, overturning her chair as she shot to her feet. 'But I saw your light was still on.' He strode across the room and picked up the chair she had sent flying. 'What were you doing?' He glanced down at the half-written letter.
What was he doing here? she wondered. He must have left the party early to have driven back by this time, and that surely couldn't have pleased Siriol. She dragged her mind away from futile speculation. 'I—I was writing to a friend in Kenya,' she said in answer to his question. 'She works in a mission hospital there and I'm sounding her out as to the chance of me getting a job there.'
'No!' The single word came with the shocking suddenness of a whip-crack, startling her with its vehemence.
She stared at the deeply etched lines running from his pinched nostrils to the corners of his grim mouth, at what looked uncommonly like censure in his brilliant grey eyes. 'You think I'm being disloyal to the relief agency? But not so long ago you were urging me to give up working for them.'
'Yes,-- no-- ' For a few moments he seemed
uncharacteristically at loss for words, then, 'I don't see
any reason for you to have a job at all,' he said harshly.
'You mean my stepfather's legacy?' From somewhere she dredged up a smile. 'I'm sure I'll find a use for it, but not to live on. I'm ready to admit I'm not up to working where there's war and strife, but Helen assures me this mission is very peaceful. And I have to do something with the rest of my life, Fraser.'
'Of course you do,' he agreed quickly. 'But I have an entirely different suggestion to make. Look, perhaps you'd better sit down.' He took her arm and urged her
into the chair he had righted, and the heat from his touch seemed to flood her whole body, making her shake with the desire to be in his arms.
'I don't quite know where to start.' He had remained standing, as if he were too keyed up and anxious to relax, and Bethan wondered at it. 'You don't know it, but I think I could have been directly responsible for everything that happened to you ten years ago, Bethan,' he said tightly, and at once she raised both hands in a defensive gesture as she guessed he was referring to that scene in the summerhouse.
'Fraser, I've been through all this with Ishbel,' she protested. 'Neither you nor she can be held responsible for Mark's weakness and malice.'
He caught her hands and held them in a grip that didn't take into account his superior strength. 'Maybe not, but Beth, when Ishbel told me the true story of what happened that night—God, I felt so guilty! Because even if I'm wrong and it wasn't my action that sparked the whole thing off, I still bear the responsibility of letting Mark get away with it. One word from me and Ishbel could have blown his lies sky-high. But I said nothing, intent on what I thought were my sister's interests when it was you I should have been protecting.'
The word 'responsibility' again, and how it could hurt! More than the physical pain of her crushed fingers. 'It was only natural you should have put Ishbel first. I was nothing more to you than your sister's friend. There was no reason why you should have considered me before her.'
'No reason!' He dropped her hands to rake his own through his hair—a characteristic gesture when he was disturbed—and she surreptitiously rubbed the feeling back into her fingers. 'My God, when I think of all I let you suffer! When I think of those wasted years ... It's more than I can bear!' His eyes were dark with tormented pain.
don't consider them wasted,' she objected, thinking only of alleviating his self-reproach.
'Well, I do!' he argued fiercely. 'And I want to make it up to you,' he went on, the fierceness dropping away. 'Beth, I told you I had a suggestion to make for your future. I'm asking you to marry me.' He took her hands again, gently this time, and drew her out of the chair. 'I want to spend the rest of my life making sure nothing ever hurts you again.'
For the space of perhaps ten seconds Bethan felt a joy such as she had never experienced before, almost too much to be contained, the joy of eve
ry dream she had ever dreamed come true.
Just ten seconds before the cold voice of reason told her it was no such thing. It wasn't love that prompted Fraser's proposal but pity, his sense of responsibility. The sound of his shared laughter with Lisa Farraday echoed down the years and she schooled her features, hoping they hadn't already given her away, as she withdrew her hands from his clasp. 'Aren't you forgetting something? You're already engaged to someone else.'
He shook his head, smiling faintly. 'No, my love, not anymore.'
She drew in a shocked breath. 'You didn't break your engagement to Siriol tonight—at her party?'
'No, a couple of weeks ago.' He moved impatiently. 'The night she and her father came to dinner. That's why I had to go chasing off to London the next day, to raise new finance for the German project.'
'Yet you still went to her party tonight.' Had that been to try to patch things up, she wondered, and was he only making his offer to herself now because he'd failed?
Dark colour stained his cheekbones. 'You think I wanted to go? She asked me to be there, to save gossip. She didn't want the break made public until after the party.'
Siriol had asked him to be there! That put a different complexion on the tangle. 'Don't you think, rather than saving face, she might have been having second thoughts?' she suggested carefully. 'Siriol loves you, Fraser.'
His mouth twisted and his eyes burned with frustration. 'Maybe, but I don't return her feelings and she knows it. Siriol's not a girl to accept marriage on those terms.'
In her own dilemma, Bethan had enough compassion to feel sorry for Siriol. What was it about Fraser that he could inspire such love in two women and remain untouched himself? The temptation to settle for what he could offer was overwhelming. She had no doubt he would be a loyal and dutiful husband. But it was his love she wanted, not his pity.
Her chin came up as she put temptation behind her. 'Neither am I. Which is why I can't marry you either, Fraser.'
His face whitened. 'I won't accept that. There's no one else, you admitted as much.'
`No, there's no one else!' She turned away to stare out of the window into the darkened garden, wishing he wasn't making it so hard for her. 'Fraser, today Ishbel relieved me of the burden of guilt I've been carrying for ten years, and now you're asking me to pick up your burden. There's only one reason why two people should marry—because they love each other. How do you think I feel, knowing you're only asking me out of a misplaced sense of responsibility?'
'Is that what you believe? That I don't love you?' He had moved silently to stand right behind her, his body taut, his voice urgent.
'It's what I know,' she said flatly.
He groaned. 'You know nothing! Beth, I've loved you since you were thirteen years old, more green-eyed faun than child. By the time you were eighteen you were an obsession. I wanted you more than I thought it was
possible to want a woman.' His hands fell on her shoulders and she felt the tremor in his body as he drew her back against him, his voice thickening. 'I still do. I only have to touch you to go up in flames.'
She closed her eyes, feeling herself weakening at his insidiously seductive words, the heat of his body moulded against her back and the caressing movements of his hands on her shoulders bringing a hot surge of desire. Dear God, she wanted to believe him. Yet how could she, when the memory of that long-ago rejection was still so sharp?
'Why are you saying that when you know it isn't true?' A sob rose in her throat and distress made her incautious. You showed me how little I meant to you ten years ago when you looked at me as if I were a little trollop and went off to share the joke with your girlfriend.'
She felt him stiffen, heard his jaggedly indrawn breath, but when she would have moved away from him he spun her round, still gripping her shoulders. 'I thought you said you didn't remember anything about the night of .' Shocked eyes burned in a white face.
'Nothing that came after, no, but being with you in the summerhouse? Oh, yes. It was the only thing I could remember when I woke up to find myself in hospital.' She lowered her head, staring fixedly at the pleated front of his dress shirt. `So don't try to pretend you wanted me, Fraser. I was yours for the taking then, but you turned me down in favour of Lisa Farraday's more experienced charms. You even laughed at me with her!'
'No!' His strangled denial had her head jerking up again but the bitter words on her lips died when she saw the shattered expression on his face, the greyness of his skin. 'Beth, it wasn't like that. No listen, please listen,' he begged as she would have repudiated his assertion. 'I wanted you. God, how I wanted you! But I'd promised
your stepfather I'd wait. He was afraid of me tying you down too young. That's why I kept girls like Lisa around, as camouflage, so my obsession for you didn't get out of hand. But then that night you were so lovely, responded to me so sweetly. If I hadn't called a halt when I did, you'd have had to marry me, even if you weren't ready for it.'
Bethan swayed dizzily. 'Marry you?' she said faintly.
Fraser's arms tightened round her. 'Oh, my darling, I'd known for a year or more you were the wife I wanted. But apart from Charles asking me not to rush you, there was the problem of Ishbel's involvement with your stepbrother. How could I go on insisting he was a bad influence on her if I was guilty of seducing you? Anyway, it seemed then that there was plenty of time to settle things between us, once I'd got Ishbel sorted out. Only there was no time.' Suddenly his voice was bleak. 'I played into Mark's hands and I lost you.'
It was as if someone had shaken a kaleidoscope, shifting the picture she had carried with her so long, altering it out of all recognition. Fraser had wanted to marry her! He had cared about her after all! A glow started in her heart, a spreading warmth of happiness such as she had never known before. And she was afraid, of it! She wanted to give in to it and let it take her but she didn't dare, and she trembled as she reminded him chokingly, 'You laughed at me. You can't deny it, Fraser, I heard you, laughing with Lisa.'
'Not at you, Beth. Never at you, you must believe me. The last thing I wanted was for Lisa to know you were in the summerhouse. I can't remember what I said to her, but it was something about my sister sending me on a wild-goose chase. All these years and you've thought ' He groaned, his hands coming up to cup her face, his thumbs moving with caressing tenderness against her cheeks. 'Oh, my sweet love ... I did you so much damage. How can I ever expect you to forgive me?'
There was such a wealth of grief in his voice she could no longer doubt his sincerity and quickly she put her fingers over his lips. 'Don't. Oh, don't talk like that.'
You will forgive me?' He caught her wrists and kissed her palms with such ardent reverence it shook Bethan to the core. 'Beth, I used to flatter myself once that you were beginning to love me. Is there any hope for me now? Because I don't think I would want to go on living if I lost you again.'
She hadn't known happiness could be so painful, tearing the heart out of her. She lifted her face, her eyes shining like wet emeralds through her tears as she slipped her arms round his neck. I loved you then, Fraser, and within hours of meeting you again, I knew I loved you still,' she said simply. I suppose I always will.'
With a hoarse groan of thankfulness he gathered her to him, his mouth taking possession of hers in a kiss that blotted out the years of anguish. There was only the conflagration that was consuming them, the flames licking higher and higher, and when the room tilted round her as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed it seemed only right that the passion that had sprung up between them so long ago at Merrifields should be consummated here too; a passion that ran too swiftly out of control and made the first time for Bethan a mixture of pleasure and pain. But even that couldn't dim the new, unaccustomed joy. And later, when he loved her again, he took her to such unimagined heights she couldn't seem to stop trembling as she lay in his arms afterwards.
'What is it, my darling?' Fraser's forehead pleated in concern, his eyes searching her face. 'Did I hurt y
ou?'
She shook her head quickly to dispel his anxiety. It's just that—I don't think I know how to be happy.' Her hands moved against his hair-roughened chest, the taut-muscled shoulders, as if she couldn't believe the evidence
of her senses. 'I keep thinking this has to be a dream, that in a minute I'll wake up and it'll all be gone, and I'm afraid.'
Her voice broke as he hugged her possessively. 'Oh my little love.' His voice was ragged with emotion. `Do you think I don't feel like that too? That's why I couldn't wait.' One arm loosened its grip and his hand came round to tip her chin until she was looking directly into his clear grey eyes. 'Tomorrow, my darling, we do something about getting a special licence, but I make you this vow now. I love you with all my heart and body, my mind and soul, and never, ever, will I allow you to be lonely and afraid again. I shall love you till the end of time, and you will be happy.'
Slowly the trembling stilled as the tension seeped out of her to be replaced by a growing confidence, and what began as a glimmering smile as she felt the strength of his arms about her, the power of his body against her softness, widened into glowing trust. 'I believe you,' she breathed.
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