Highland Promise (7 page)

Her words echoed in the complete stillness that followed her outburst. Bethia could not believe that she had said such a thing or that she had grabbed the man as if she intended to wrestle him into submission. She took one look at the stunned expression on his face, groaned in embarrassment, and clapped her hands over her face. She was certainly no lady and now Sir Eric could see that very clearly.

“Sweetling,” Eric said in a choked voice, “I mean ye no insult, please believe me, but—”

He went off into gales of laughter so loud Bethia nervously glanced at James to be sure that he still slept. Eric was laughing so hard he rolled off her, and Bethia turned on her stomach, pressing her blush reddened face against her crossed arms. Her night of passion was not turning out as she had planned. She had imagined sweet words of acceptance and encouragement, fevered kisses and caresses, and had seen herself gracefully, yet with the appropriate amount of shyness, taking that final step into womanhood in the arms of the man she loved. Instead, she threatened him, then had to endure his laughter. The only thing that eased the sting of the shame she felt, though not by much, was recalling his apology before he had started laughing. There was a small chance that he did not think she was a complete idiot, and a brazen one as well. Bethia tensed when she felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her back and the touch of his lips on her hair.

“Come, my own, I meant no ridicule,” he said, a hint of laughter still enriching his deep voice. “’Twas funny. If ye were nay involved, ye would think so too. I have had women woo me, lure me, beg me, buy me—”

That remark caught Bethia’s attention so sharply she abruptly ceased sulking over her ineptitude and stared at him. “Buy you?”

“Aye.” He gently but firmly nudged her onto her back and sprawled on top of her. “A verra fat purse she offered me too.”

“Did she think ye were just some poor carpet knight?”

Eric had to smile over the outrage Bethia revealed for his sake, as well as her somewhat crude term for a man who pleasured the ladies while other men went off to fight. “Nay, nor some lowly knave. She just kenned that I was rather poor at the time and thought money would lure me more than pretty smiles and kisses. Mayhap she didnae
think I would respond to either when they came from her.” He smiled gently as he began to trace the delicate lines of her face with soft kisses. “’Twas tempting.”

“Eric, ye didnae, did ye?”

“Aye, I fear I did. I was verra young and in need of some coin so that I could continue at court.” He winked. “I fear I also felt that, if she was so foolish as to pay dearly for something she could have gained with a little seduction, who was I to thwart her?” He was relieved when Bethia grinned, for only after he had begun the tale had he realized that she might not find it as amusing as his family did. “I found out later that she made a habit of buying young knights, paying them handsomely to warm her bed for a night or two.”

“Weel, men pay for it. Mayhap she saw it as a reasonable way to go about it.”

“Mayhap, but ’tis an old, somewhat sordid tale. I wish to think upon other things.” He started to tug off her shift, then paused, allowing her one last chance to change her mind. “Are ye sure, Bethia? There will be no going back.”

Eric knew that she did not understand the full implication behind his words, that she thought he referred only to her chastity. It was not fair, but he decided not to be more specific. Later, once he had made her his, he would make her understand that this possession was final. Eric knew that he was about to enjoy something special, intense and wondrous, and he had no intention of letting her walk away afterward and share it with another.

Bethia slid her hands around his neck and touched her lips to his. “I ken it. It may not be wise, but ’tis what I want.”

He quickly kissed her, then tugged off her shift and tossed it aside. As he crouched over her, looking his fill of her slim form, he cursed the dim light. What he could see, from her small firm breasts to her slender hips, was exquisite, igniting his passion so swiftly and strongly he was afraid he might lack the patience she needed. He tore off his braies and quickly settled his body on top of hers. The way she immediately moved against him made him shudder. It was definitely going to be hard to go slowly.

“Skin like white silk,” he murmured as he traced her collarbone with soft, nibbling kisses.

She would have liked to return his flattery in kind, but Bethia found it difficult to speak. The way he lightly kneaded her breasts with his elegant hands, teasing her nipples into hard, aching points with his thumbs, robbed her of the ability to form any coherent words. When he touched his warm lips to her breast, she cried out softly and arched into his body in unthinking surrender. She could not keep still as he lathed and suckled the tips of her breasts, increasing the tense, restless feeling low in her belly with each hungry tug of his mouth.

Her increasingly frantic movements came to an abrupt halt when he slid his hand over her trembling stomach and then between her legs. He kissed her and, with a few skillful strokes of his fingers, pushed away her shock over such an intimate touch. Eric thrust his finger inside her, his tongue in her mouth imitating the movement, and Bethia was lost. She clung to him, moving her hands greedily over his warm, hard body, willing to let him do what he pleased as long as he did not stop, as long as the feelings tearing through her did not stop.

Bethia was only partially aware of when he began to slowly join their bodies. He kept her drugged with kisses as he eased himself inside her, then with one quick thrust
shattered her innocence. Bethia gasped as a sharp pain cut through the haze of desire she was sunk in. She knew her nails were digging into the skin of his shoulders, but he said nothing, and it took her a moment to gather enough wit to ease her grip. As she took several deep breaths to calm herself, she realized that the pain was already easing. She also realized that Eric was not moving.

Slowly, Bethia opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. She felt herself blush. Knowing the man she was looking at was intimately joined with her made her feel shy and uncertain. A close look at his taut features told her that it was costing Eric dearly to hold still within her and her embarrassment began to ease.

Eric held himself up on his forearms, fighting so hard to remain still he hardly dared to breathe. His whole body shook with the strain. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his mind struggled to keep his body from moving as instinct and aching need demanded it to. He wanted to give her slender body time to adjust to his invasion, but the feel of her tight heat surrounding him made him feel almost maddened with need.

“I think there is more,” Bethia said quietly, slowly kneading the taut muscles in his back.

“Oh, aye, my heart, there is,” he whispered as he grasped her by the calves and gently pushed her legs up until her knees were bent.

When he pressed deeper within her, she shuddered and then realized he did the same. He pulled back and she swiftly wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Dinnae leave me.”

“I couldnae leave now if William stood round us with the whole of the king’s army at his back.” Eric laughed shakily. “I might conjure up just enough wit to ask them to wait.” Bethia giggled and he had to kiss her.

Eric began to move, a slow, measured pace that soon threatened to drive her mad. Her body was taut with expectation, but she was not exactly sure what it demanded, only knew that Eric could give it to her. She slid her hands down his back and began to caress his taut buttocks. His movements quickly became fiercer and she groaned out her gratitude. Just as she began to think that something had gone wrong, that she was too tense, too frantic, Eric slid his hand down to where their bodies were joined. He touched her, just one quick, gentle touch, and she screamed as the tension within her body shattered, waves of blinding delight flooding her body. A small part of her passion-dulled mind was aware of Eric plunging once, deep and hard, into her trembling body, and calling out her name as he jerked and shook in her arms. She murmured a welcome when he collapsed on top of her, smoothing her hands over his body as she savored the tingling pleasure that still rippled through her.

Not sure how long he had sprawled in her arms, mindlessly sated, Eric eased out of her body. He smiled when she made a soft sound of regret. Propping himself up on his elbows, he studied her as he idly brushed her tangled hair from her face.

Bethia was his now. It was not just a matter of honor demanding that he wed the wellborn maid he had just seduced. It was not even the fact that the passion he had found in her slim arms was beyond compare. The moment he had entered the warm shelter of her body, he had known that she was his, known it in his heart, his mind, even in his soul. By allowing him to make love to her, Bethia had sealed her fate. Eric wondered how long it would take her to accept that and how hard he would have to fight to make her do so.

When Eric turned onto his back and pulled her into his arms, Bethia eagerly
snuggled up against him. She felt a little tender, a little dazed, but the sweet satisfaction humming through her veins more than made up for such inconvenience. For tonight, and perhaps tomorrow night, Eric was hers. Making love with Eric had shown her the true beauty of the act, shown her just how deeply she loved the man. When they parted at Dunnbea her pain would probably consume her, but she refused to think about that now. Right now, held close in Eric’s arms, she was happy, and she meant to cling to that for as long as she could.

“’Tis market day,” Bethia murmured, staring at the large boisterous crowd in the village streets she and Eric had begun to ride down.

“Aye. I think it may be best if we dismount,” Eric said and nimbly slipped out of the saddle. “Connor is verra even of temper, but there may be too much noise and activity here even for him to abide with calm. If I lead him through the crowds there will be less chance of trouble.”

After Eric helped Bethia dismount, he gave her a hand in shifting James’s sling from the back of her body to the front. She fell into step behind him as he began to slowly make his way down the street. James’s soft curls brushed against her chin again and again as he twisted his head back and forth, his eyes wide as he stared at all the people.

The town was filled to bursting with people and animals; the noise of the sellers hawking their wares, people gossiping and arguing prices, and animals squealing was nearly deafening. It all made Bethia very uneasy. Such a crowd meant there may not be a room for them. It could also allow her enemies to slip close to them by using the crowds to hide themselves. So many people also meant a lot of eyes seeing her, Eric, and the child; thus a lot of people could point the way for William.

“Mayhap we should just continue on to Dunnbea,” Bethia said, hurrying forward to walk by Eric’s side so that he could be sure to hear her over the noise.

“I am nay sure we could make it ere night fell,” Eric replied.

It was a small lie and, he felt, a harmless one. If they rode steadily, with only a little hurrying, they could reach Dunnbea while it was still light. He had no intention of rushing her back to her family, however. It might not be wise, considering the danger that lurked at their heels, but he wanted one more night, alone, with Bethia. He needed to strengthen the bond of passion between them, needed to reaffirm his possession of her. Once they reached Dunnbea, once she and James were safe behind those walls, he had to travel on to the MacMillans. Eric wanted to be sure he left behind a woman who knew exactly who she belonged to.

He winced as he thought of his reason for seeking out the MacMillans, allies of Bethia’s clan. Not a word had been said about his quest since he had revealed the truth, and he was reluctant to bring the matter to the fore again. The fact that Bethia had become his lover eased his concern. She clearly had not turned away from him completely. Eric was not fool enough to think that the matter was settled, however. It just gave him hope that they could find a solution to the conflict between what he had to do and her feelings about the whole matter.

“Oh, I didnae think it was that much farther away,” she said.

“Ye have ne’er been here?” Eric thought that a little odd, for it was not so far from her home.

“Nay, I ne’er left Dunnbea.”

“Never?”

“Nay.” She frowned up at him. “Why do ye sound so shocked?”

“I would have thought ye would have traveled at least once to a village fair or market day or e’en to the keeps of your allies.”

“Someone had to watch o’er Dunnbea when my parents and Sorcha left.”

“Mayhaps that was true when ye were grown, but ye were left behind e’en when ye
were a child?”

Bethia did not like Eric’s questions. They required her to recall painful times, made her look too closely at things she had tried not to be resentful or angry about. It was still a struggle; anger and hurt were still too easily roused. Long ago she had dried her tears, buried her pain, and forced herself to accept her life. There had obviously been something about her that her parents could not accept, so she had become a dutiful daughter. She did not appreciate Eric chipping away at that facade.

“I was a clumsy child,” she said, unable to keep all of her annoyance out of her voice. “Aye, and sickly too. ’Twas thought best if I stayed secure at Dunnbea.” She could tell by the look in his dark blue eyes that he found that a paltry explanation, but unable and unwilling to challenge his opinion, she simply looked away. “When I was older, they all felt that I was more use at Dunnbea, for at a young age, I took o’er most of my mother’s work. She is a delicate woman, ye ken, and needs to take great care of herself.”

Eric opened his mouth to proclaim that all nonsense, then quickly shut it. Bethia was not stupid. She had to know, deep in her heart, that it was all wrong. It was clear, however, that she chose to either ignore it or to deceive herself. Whether it was a game she played with herself to avoid pain or to keep peace within her family, he could not be sure; he was not even sure that Bethia would know herself. It would serve no purpose at the moment to open her wounds, of which he began to think she had many. There was one more question he needed to get answered, however.

“They must have been concerned when ye suddenly decided to go to your sister,” he said.

“Sorcha asked me to come. It was enough.”

“They didnae wish to travel with you?”

“They werenae close at hand when word came. I left quickly with a small guard. Those men would have returned to Dunnbea with the news of Sorcha’s death, but didnae ken my feelings that it was murder. My parents are probably sunk deep in grief.”

“Ye will be able to soothe some of that when ye bring them her son,” he murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.

Bethia sensed the insincere courtesy of Eric’s words and wondered at it, but her thoughts quickly turned to James. She prayed her parents would adore the child she brought into their care. He was certainly sweet and bonny enough for them to love. Yet they had been so fierce in their pride and devotion to Sorcha, she had sometimes wondered if they had any left for others. James was a part of Sorcha and that should be enough, but Bethia was not so sure. She kissed the top of James’s head and promised the child that, no matter which way her parents turned, he would never want for love. Bethia swore that she would always be there for him.

Once at the inn, Bethia waited patiently outside with the horse and their goods. When Eric did not immediately return to her, she felt her hopes rise. It would be nice to stay in a proper bed again. Their brief time at the little cottage had spoiled her. Despite the joy she had found in Eric’s arms last night, she had not been pleased to be sleeping on the hard ground again. She also wanted a decent meal with meat and wine and a hot bath. Her fears of discovery and concerns about James were quickly pushed aside when Eric stepped out of the inn, a big smile upon his face.

“We have a room?” she asked, unable to hide her excitement.

“Aye, and”—he kissed the tip of her nose and ruffled James’s curls—“I have
already ordered a bath.”

“Oh, thank you. Ye are the best of men. And food?”

Eric laughed as he led his horse to the stable, giving the stable lad a coin but waving him away for he wished to tend to Connor himself. “And food. Enough meat and wine to please a king. While ye bathe, wee James and I shall seek out some bread, cheese, and wine to take with us on the morrow.”

“Ye need not waste your coin. ’Tis nay such a long ride from here to Dunnbea.”

“Nay, but we shall feast for every mile.”

“Poor Connor,” she drawled and laughed with him as he led her back into the inn.

It only took a few words from the innkeeper’s wife for Bethia to realize the woman thought she and Eric and James were just a young family in need of a room for the night. She could not really believe Eric had lied outright to the kindly woman, but Bethia suspected he had done nothing to correct her errant assumptions when they were made. Bethia smiled and did the same. She felt she would rather do a penance for that small lie than risk losing the chance of a hot bath.

The maids were already filling a huge tub in the room with hot water. It was set before a warm fire to ensure that she did not take a chill. One of the maids sprinkled a handful of herbs over the water and the scent of lavender filled the room. Bethia took a deep breath as she removed James from his sling and handed him to Eric.

As the two fulsome maids left the room, Bethia saw the way they looked at Eric, their smiles blatantly inviting. She quickly looked at Eric and felt her pangs of jealousy ease. He was too busy making funny faces at a giggling James to even notice the lures sent his way.

“I shall leave you to your bath, m’lady,” Eric said, bowing low with James in his arms and making the child laugh.

“Aye, please do.” Bethia laughed and pushed him out the door. “And be quick about it ere the water cools.”

“Be sure to lock the door behind me.”

“I will.”

The moment the door shut behind him, Bethia made sure that it was securely bolted, then began to strip off her clothes. She left them behind her in a trail from the door to the tub. The moment she stepped into the hot water, she sighed with delight. It had been too long since she had enjoyed such a luxury, and as she sank up to her neck in the gently scented water, she intended to savor it.

As the heat of the water soothed her aching muscles, Bethia found herself thinking about the maids and how the women had looked at Eric. She and Eric had been alone as they traveled to Dunnbea, and Bethia realized that, although she had easily guessed that women would be drawn to Eric, she had never really considered or understood how true that was. Until now. Despite the presence of ones they assumed were the man’s wife and child, the two maids had tried to catch Eric’s eye, to give him warm, inviting looks. Bethia had no doubt that the women would have offered him a toss in the hay right in front of her face. It was not only infuriating—it was astonishing.

A moment later, she struggled to shake away her concern. How women reacted to Eric would not be her problem after tonight. What mattered was that, for tonight, Eric was all hers. The complete disinterest he had revealed in the maids proved that. Bethia was determined not to spoil their remaining time together with petty jealousies and fears.

That determination faded abruptly only two hours later. Eric had returned but moments after Bethia had finished dressing and a bath was quickly prepared for him by the same two maids. Their eagerness to please him with a swiftly prepared, hot bath was almost painful to watch. It was when they cooingly offered to help him bathe, right in front of her, his supposed wife, that Bethia decided she had had enough. They were tainting her last night with Eric with their vulgar flirtations and she could not allow that.

When one of the maids reached out to unlace Eric’s shirt, Bethia was there first, dropping several of James’s soiled rags into her hands. “If ye have such an urge to scrub something, try these. I would like it done—quickly.”

Biting back a smile, Eric politely but swiftly shooed the maids out of the room, then turned to look at Bethia. She looked gloriously furious and he was pleased. He had not purposely set out to make her jealous, but he would gladly accept the results of the maids’ foolishness. Here was the proof that her feelings already ran deeper than passion alone.

“Is it always like that?” Bethia asked as the door shut behind the two maids.

“Like what, my heart?”

Bethia gave Eric a disgusted look for his attempt to act as if he had not noticed. “They did everything short of tearing off their clothes and jumping on you, and I begin to think that e’en that would have happened if we had waited long enough.”

“They were unusually brazen.”

“’Twas as if I wasnae even here.”

And that, mused Eric, was probably the worst of it. Bethia had spent far too much of her life being ignored, being treated as if she was not really there. The maids were very forward, but that had happened one or two times in the past. It would undoubtedly happen again, as brazenly as that or more subtlely. He could not do anything about it. He did not think he was vain, but he knew that women liked how he looked. Until age or injury marred his looks, women would probably flirt with him, undeterred by the fact that he was taken. Disinterest had rarely stopped them in the past. Somehow he was going to have to make Bethia so certain of him that such impertinences did not worry her too much. Eric sighed as he started to unlace his shirt. That might prove to be a larger task than he could handle.

“’Twas just rudeness of a sort, lass. Aye, and a sad blindness to the utter disinterest I felt.” He suddenly smiled at her. “Are ye going to stay and help me bathe?” He tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside.

The sight of his bared chest was enough to make Bethia’s heart skip. She was tempted to take him up on his suggestion. It was time to retreat.

“I am taking James and we are going to find some goat’s milk.”

“Coward,” Eric said, laughing as she hurried away.

“Best ye lock this door,” she called after herself. “I should hate to return to find your poor body being ravished.”

“Dinnae worry, lass. I mean to save it all for ye.”

Bethia smiled, then sighed as she passed the two maids on her way out of the inn. Perhaps it was for the best that she and Eric would part soon. It would drive her mad to constantly watch women try to lure him into their arms. She would be doomed to spend her days wondering which invitation he would finally accept. Surely no man could be so beset by willing women and not succumb to the temptation eventually. If, by some
miracle, Eric took her as his wife, Bethia feared she would end her days as a babbling fool, driven insane by fear and constant jealousy.

“And I have too fanciful a mind,” she muttered, then turned her attention to finding James some of the goat’s milk he so loved.

When Bethia returned to the room at the inn, she could smell the food even before she opened the door. She stepped inside the door, took a deep breath, and savored the smells of roasted meat and fresh bread. A soft laugh drew her gaze to Eric.

“I was thinking of hollering out the window for you,” he said as he moved toward the well set table placed by the fire. “They brought this in but moments ago and one sniff was enough to make me ravenous. I feared I wouldnae be able to wait for your return ere I set upon it like some starving wolf.”

“Oh, I dinnae ken what to eat first,” she said as she sat down at the table, James on her lap, and gazed at all the food on the table. “If we eat all this, Connor shall ne’er be able to carry us to Dunnbea.”