Highland Promise (14 page)

Telling herself that Eric still sought her bed and none other, that his passion still ran hot for her, did not make her feel all that much more confident. They were but newly wed, lovers for such a short while. What would happen when that newness faded? What would happen if her body grew round with the child she might be carrying?

The sound of the door opening and shutting, and Eric’s distinctive tread on the stone floor, pulled Bethia from her dark thoughts. She turned her head just enough to peer at him with one eye. He came to a halt by the side of the bed, put his hands on his hips, and frowned at her.

“Are ye sulking, Bethia?” he asked.

“What makes ye ask that?” The man’s ability to guess her moods was not always welcome, she mused. It would be nice to be mysterious.

“Mayhap the way ye are lying there trying to smother yourself in the pillow,” he teased and started to undress. “I begin to think that ye actually enjoy a hearty sulk from time to time.”

“I suppose I might. I hadnae expected ye back so soon, so I thought I had the time to indulge.”

“My meeting with Lord Douglas was quick, but we didnae need to say much to each other. He has agreed to support me.”

“That is wonderful.” The thought that they would soon be able to go home was enough to give her voice the appropriate touch of delight.

“Poor Bethia.” Eric kissed her cheek and, tossing his jupon and shirt on a chest, moved to wash up. ‘What has put ye into a sulk?”

“Eric, how come ye have ne’er given me flowers?” she asked, then inwardly cursed herself for revealing her weaknesses and doubts.

“There are none about and willnae be until spring. I might be able to find ye some heather blooms, but that would be all.” He watched her closely as he rubbed himself with a drying cloth. “Those two bitches had a wee talk with you, didnae they?”

She stared at him in some surprise. “That seems a harsh way to speak about your
lovers.”

“
Old
lovers and, my heart, ye must ken that a mon doesnae need to like or respect the women he beds. Ere I met you I looked only for comely and willing. Catriona and Elizabeth were both. I wooed my way into their beds, and, trust me, it took verra little wooing to lift their skirts, took what I wanted, and left. I had thought I had played the game as weel as their former lovers, but perhaps not. ’Tis clear that they wish to cause me trouble through you.”

“I think they are just a wee bit piqued that ye married me—a lass they dinnae believe shines as brightly as they do.” She frowned as Eric got into bed beside her. “I think their pride has been pinched.” She cast him a guilty look as he tugged her into his arms. “I fear I have made it worse.”

“Aye? What did ye do?”

“Weel, they walked me to our chambers.” Bethia nodded as he grimaced. “Dinnae worry. I got here ere they could be too precise in their tales. But I suddenly got verra angry.”

“I am sorry, Bethia. I wish I could rub out my past.” Eric lifted his brows in surprise when she placed her fingers over his lips.

“I wasnae angry with you, or e’en about the fact that ye bedded women ere ye met me. True, I dinnae like meeting them, but as ye told me, no one held your name or your heart. Ye were a free mon and ye didnae e’en ken who I was. Nay, I was angry at them. There was no reason for them to tell me such things. I have ne’er done them any wrong. And yet, they sought to hurt me, mayhap e’en cause trouble in this marriage by stirring up jealousies and doubts. I fear I said something they will find hard to forgive, and now that I think on it, it wasnae verra kind to speak of ye in such a way.”

When Bethia hesitated and blushed deeply, Eric’s curiousity was aroused. “So? What did ye say?”

Bethia took a deep breath to steady herself, told him what Catriona had asked her, and then what she had replied. Eric stared at her in shock for a moment, and Bethia feared she had gone too far, had perhaps even thoroughly disgusted him. Then he started to laugh.

“Oh, lass, ye must have left them speechless,” he finally said, tugging her back into his arms.

“At least for as long as it took me to get back inside this room and shut the door. It wasnae good of me, though.”

“It wasnae so verra bad and they deserved it. In their arrogance, they looked at you, saw a wee, sweet-faced lass, and felt they could grind ye beneath their slippers. Ye are right. They were most unkind. There was no reason to tell ye anything about what happened in the past. They deserved whate’er ye wished to say or do to them.”

“Mayhap.” She moved her hand over his taut stomach. “Weel, they willnae e’en feign a liking for me now, and perhaps, that isnae such a bad thing. In truth, it may be as much honesty as I will e’er get from such women. I pray I willnae have to worry o’er them for verra much longer. Will I?” she asked.

“Nay, not for verra much longer. Now, about what ye said—”

“Eric, I didnae mean it. I was just so angry.”

“Ah, that is a shame.” He grabbed her hand and placed it over his hardened manhood. “I was rather hoping ye would lead me about tonight.”

Bethia laughed and kissed him, knowing that, at times, the passion they shared controlled him as firmly as it did her. She soon had to wonder who led and who followed as they exchanged kisses and caresses with an equal fervor. They crested the heights of passion together and, her doubts banished for the moment, Bethia fell asleep even before Eric had left her body.

Eric held Bethia close and slowly undid her braids, idly wondering what possessed women to do their hair up in such complicated ways. He had brought her to court, not only because he wanted her at his side, but to get her away from her parents’ poison. Some time away from that constant criticism and denigration could help Bethia gain some pride and confidence. At least, that had been his plan, and it had seemed a good one. Instead, he had thrown her into the midst of the often cruel, petty intrigues of court.

He had considered the possibility of her hearing of or even meeting lovers he had known in his past, but Eric realized he had not really seen such women as the threat they could be. Even a strong, self-assured woman would have found Elizabeth and Catriona’s jealous talebearing hard to tolerate. Bethia was not self-assured, however, but had spent her whole life being ignored, compared unfavorably to her sister, and, when noticed, heartily criticized. For such a woman, it had to have been painful to listen to two beautiful, fulsome women boast of having shared her husband’s bed. No wonder Bethia had felt a need to indulge in a sulk.

A little smile curved his lips as he kissed her forehead and combed his fingers thorugh her now loosened hair. He found it oddly attractive that Bethia liked to indulge in what she called
a good sulk
. She was endearingly honest in her emotions, good and bad. It was yet another reason why she was finding life at court hard to bear.

As Eric let sleep wash over him, he promised Bethia that he would push harder to get what he wanted so that they could leave. He had allowed himself to be nudged aside. He had politely accepted excuses for delays and repeated himself again and again, believing that his king simply wished to be sure of his facts before he passed judgment on William Drummond and Sir Graham Beaton. It was time to stop being so gentle, so well mannered. He wanted Bethia away from women like Catriona and Elizabeth before their poison could begin to do more than cast Bethia into one of her sulks.

Bethia stretched, then frowned as her outstretched hand touched cool linen instead of Eric’s warm chest. She opened her eyes and knew from the dim light seeping into the room that it was barely past dawn. As she reached over to steal his pillow something crinkled and she picked up a message left there. She smiled faintly as she read his apologies for slipping away so early, but she was gratified by his expressed intention to press his case even harder. It was difficult to understand the king’s hesitancy when the proof against William and Beaton was so strong. These were not men the king needed as allies.

She stretched again, then cautiously eased out of the bed and rang for a maid. By the time she had bathed, washed, and dried her hair, it was time to break her fast. Bethia subdued the cowardly urge to have her meal brought to her room. It had been her own words that had angered Elizabeth and Catriona. She had to face the consequences. If she was very fortunate, she mused as she walked to the great hall, it was still far too early for either of the women to be out of bed.

As she walked through the heavy doors of the great hall, Bethia nearly walked into
Catriona and Elizabeth. Elizabeth did not say anything or openly snub her, but her look was cold. It was no more than Bethia had expected. Catriona, however, smiled pleasantly, and that made Bethia very uneasy.

“Dinnae look so wary, child,” Catriona said, putting her arm around Bethia’s shoulders and aiming a kiss into the air near Bethia’s cheek. “Ye were angry. ’Twas our own fault. We should have guarded our words more carefully.”

“’Twas nay an excuse for me to be so unkind,” Bethia murmured, deciding that she could be generous. She and Eric were leaving soon.

“To show that all is forgiven, we will break our fast with you, and then go to the market together.”

“I really dinnae need anything at the market,” Bethia protested as she was dragged over to a table.

“Dinnae be shy, Lady Bethia. Every woman enjoys going to the market. We shall all have great fun.”

Bethia found herself pulled into Catriona’s plans. No excuse was accepted and Bethia was hesitant to be blatantly rude. She had already deeply offended the woman once. There was no knowing whom the woman knew or what power she might wield. Bethia did not wish to risk all Eric had worked for by angering Catriona so much that the woman worked against him. Like it or not, she thought with a sigh, she was going into the town. She just wished she did not feel so uneasy, almost frightened about the little trip.

“Catriona? Elizabeth?”

Bethia frowned as, looking around her, she saw neither woman. Market day had drawn a large crowd, however, and she told herself not to let their apparent disappearance make her nervous. They could easily have wandered off to look at something else and forgotten to tell her or she had not heard them do so. Carefully counting out her money, she paid the woman who had been helping her for the ribbon she had picked out and started to look for the two women.

It was difficult to see anything over the heads of the people milling around. Bethia cursed her lack of height and walked toward a bench in front of the alehouse. Smiling nervously at the people gathered there, she nudged her way through the men and rough women and finally got to the bench. Bethia hesitated a moment, not sure it was proper to stand on the thing, then decided she had no choice. If she was to find the women she had to be able to see through or over the crowd, and that required some added height. Hoping no one who knew her as Eric’s wife chanced to see her, she climbed onto the bench.

It took several minutes, but Bethia finally spotted the elaborate headdresses of Catriona and Elizabeth. She frowned, for it looked very much as if the women were hurrying back to the castle. Leaving her stranded in the market seemed a remarkably childish thing to do, but as she got down off the bench, Bethia told herself she should have expected something. It was unlike Catriona and Elizabeth to let the insult she had dealt them go unpunished.

Although she found it annoying, Bethia also decided it was for the best. The women had been gently taunting her and insulting her the whole morning in the guise of friends helping her to become more of a lady, more worthy of her husband. She began to think they had taken lessons from her parents, then scolded herself for her unkind thoughts concerning her parents. It was difficult to know how much longer she would have been able to hold on to her temper.

“Are ye all right, Lady Bethia?” asked a voice Bethia did not recognize for a moment.

Turning slowly, Bethia recognized the little maid Jennet, who had helped her dress for the evening meal nearly every night since she had arrived. “I have just lost my companions,” she replied.

“Ah, those two.” Jennet nodded and took Bethia by the arm. “’Tis nay good for ye to be wandering about the market alone and I suspicion they ken it. They are nay verra nice ladies, m’lady. Ye should be wary of them.”

“I begin to see that most clearly.”

Eric was going to be furious, Bethia thought with a sigh. When she had left the castle, she had been with four others: Elizabeth, Catriona, a maid, and one man-at-arms. It had seemed more than enough protection, and she had assured Eric of that in the note she had left for him. When she returned alone, he was going to wonder if she had lied or had done something silly, like get herself lost. For a brief moment, she considered telling him exactly what had happened, then sighed. It would serve no purpose. He could not do anything about it, and the two women would most certainly deny it. She supposed she would have to settle for telling him she had simply become separated from her companions.

“I could take ye back right now, if ye wish, m’lady,” said Jennet.

“It would be best if I return to the castle with someone, but I am more than willing to follow about after you until ye are ready to leave,” said Bethia.

“I dinnae have that much left to do. I shouldnae be too much longer.”

“Enjoy yourself. I havenae really finished seeing all that is being offered.”

“Will your husband nay be looking for you?”

“I told him where I was, but I dinnae think he will return to our room ere I do. He has a great deal of work to do.”

Jennet nodded. “’Tis said that he has several causes to plead before the king, and to tell ye the truth, m’lady, the king is e’er verra slow to decide on any cause, no matter how righteous. I sometimes think our king likes to have the great men of the land begging him for things and makes it last longer than it needs to.” She gasped and looked at Bethia a little warily. “But I am just a wee maid. What do I ken about kings and such?”

Bethia wanted to say that the girl understood a great deal more than some men, but she just smiled. Jennet was afraid she had spoken recklessly, might even have put herself in danger, at least of losing her place at the castle. It was kindest to just let the moment pass and never mention it again.

To put the maid even further at ease, Bethia began to ask her advice on matters of fashion. Jennet relaxed quickly as she helped Bethia decide on what colors were best for her and even advised her on certain types of cloth that were the best to use as they wound their way through the crowded market. Although Bethia had never had to worry about such things before, she was now the wife of a laird or soon would be if the king recognized Eric’s claim, so it was probably time to learn a few things.

She hoped Eric did not return to find her gone or, worse, see Catriona and Elizabeth at the castle without her after she had said she was going to the market with them. He would start to worry and he had enough trouble at the moment. When she had first found herself alone, she had felt a little afraid, but now, walking with the very talkative Jennet and surrounded by people enjoying market day, she began to feel at ease. Her only real enemy was William and he would have a hard time stealing her away or murdering her in such a crowded place.

“I dinnae like this,” Elizabeth muttered as Catriona ordered their maid and guard to stay behind and dragged her into a tiny, dark alley on the road to the castle. “I still think the best way to get revenge is to bed the little bitch’s husband and let her ken it.”

“Eric isnae interested,” Catriona snapped. “Mayhap it is because he is still but newly wed and she is unusual, but he has no eye for the ladies at the moment.”

“Ye just say that because he hasnae responded to your wiles. Mayhap ’tis just ye he isnae interested in.”

“He isnae interested in you either. Considering what a passionate mon he is, I find that a wee bit odd, dinnae ye?”

“Mayhap he is in love,” Elizabeth said, her tone of voice indicating that the words nearly gagged her.

“With that too thin, strange-eyed wench? I dinnae think so. ’Tis naught but her innocence that intrigues him, but that will soon pale.”

“Then let us destroy that in his eyes, as I suggested,” Elizabeth urged as they stopped, waiting for the man they had agreed to meet.

“I have watched the wench since I got here, and trust me, she isnae one who can be seduced. We would have to tell pure lies about her—tales without a grain of truth to them. Eric would have no trouble seeing through such things.” Catriona crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot in a gesture of growing impatience. “Where is that fool?”

“Right here, m’lady.”

Elizabeth stepped closer to Catriona when that raspy voice came out of the shadows, followed by a bulky man badly in need of clean clothes and a bath. “I dinnae like this,” she whispered and winced when Catriona jabbed her hard with her elbow.

“We were about to leave, Sir William,” Catriona said in a cool voice. “I dinnae like to be kept waiting.”

“Ye should learn the skill. Patience can bring one such rich rewards. Where is the lass?”

“Left alone in the market just as I promised. She is dressed in a soft green gown with a dark green surcoat. She wears no headdress.”

“Do ye remember what to say if her husband asks after her?”

“Aye, that she insisted upon staying behind to look at lace. I should do whate’er it is ye want to do as quickly as ye can for I dinnae think that wee tale will hold him long. The mon keeps a close eye on her.”

“Dinnae worry. I will need but a moment or two.”

Elizabeth shivered again as the man disappeared into the shadows. “I like this even less now.”

“I didnae ken ye were so weak spirited, Elizabeth.”

“How did ye find that mon?”

“One of my men-at-arms met him lurking outside of the alehouse. I have kenned for two days that he was looking for that little bitch. I just wasnae sure how to use that knowledge until last eve.” Catriona started to leave the alley.

Hurrying to catch up, Elizabeth said, “I think he means her some harm.”

“Oh, I do hope so.”

“I mean that I think he may wish to kill her.”

“So?”

“I am nay sure I wish to have a hand in a murder.”

“Try to soothe yourself with the knowledge that there may soon be a heartbroken widower who will need consolation.”

Eric frowned as he read the note Bethia had left on his pillow. It troubled him a little that she had gone off with Catriona and Elizabeth. After Bethia had insulted them, he had to question the motives of the two women in asking Bethia to join them on a trip to the market. The very last thing they would wish to do was make friends with his wife.

He told himself not to be so cautious. The women would only try to further torment Bethia with tales of past affairs and maybe insult her a little. If Bethia had thought she could not manage such abuse, she would not have gone. He just hoped they did not tell her anything too intimate. Eric did not really like the idea of his wife knowing exactly what he had done in the beds of other women.

Shrugging aside that worry, for there was little he could do about the matter, Eric went to the great hall to partake of a noon meal. He had hoped to have Bethia join him so
that he could share the good news he had, but there would be plenty of time for that when she returned. The moment he stepped into the great hall, he forgot all about food, however, for sitting at a table were the very women Bethia was supposed to be with.

As he fought to calm himself, to push aside a sudden sense of foreboding, he walked over to where Elizabeth and Catriona sat laughing with two young courtiers. “M’ladies,” he murmured, nodding a greeting to the men. “Is my wife not with you?”

“Why, nay, should she be?” asked Lady Catriona.

“She left me word that she had gone to the market with you.”

“Ah, and so she did, but she didnae return with us.”

“And why not?”

“She was having trouble deciding what ribbons she wanted. Is that nay right, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth nodded and muttered, “Aye, but ’twas lace she looked at.”

“Did no one stay behind with her until she was done?” Eric asked.

“Nay. Was that necessary?” Catriona asked. “She insisted we go on our way and said she would join us shortly. She must be in your room.”

“Nay. I have just come from there.”

“Then I fear I cannae tell ye where she might be.”

It was hard, but Eric resisted the urge to shake Catriona until she told him that she knew exactly where Bethia was and that she was safe. Although he had the feeling that Catriona was not telling him everything, he knew she would not understand why it was so important for him to know where Bethia was or why it was so dangerous for his wife to be alone.

He curtly bowed to the small group and hurried out of the great hall. Eric planned to check his bedchamber one more time and then he would go to the market to hunt down Bethia There was always the chance that, childishly, Catriona and Elizabeth had just left Bethia there alone, intending no more than to alarm her a little and make her feel the sting of their abrupt desertion. If Bethia had been silly enough to do as they said she had—to send them on their way and purposely leave herself alone and unprotected—he would make very sure that she understood how foolish that was before he let her out of his sight again.

Bethia frowned and glanced into the shadows of the small alley she stood near. Jennet and the man she was trying to buy her herbs from were having a fierce argument about the price of his stock. It had been amusing for a while, but Bethia had finally stepped away, if only to give her poor abused ears a rest. The sudden urge she had to rejoin the maid and listen to the bickering all over again did not make sense.

Just as she decided she would obey whatever instinct was telling her to move away from the alley, a hand closed over her mouth and she was dragged backward into the shadows. Bethia clawed at the hand that nearly smothered her and heard a man curse. The rough voice so close to her ear made her blood run cold.

“Ye little bitch,” William growled as he moved his arm to around her neck. “Ye will pay for all ye have cost me.”

His strangling grip on her throat made it impossible for Bethia to do any more than whisper. “Ye must be mad to think ye can kill me here. Everyone will ken it was you.”

“Do ye think I care? Your husband is working to make me an outlaw—a mon any
other mon can kill without hesitation, a mon who must spend his life running and hiding. Let him ken who killed ye and then let him try to protect the boy.”

Bethia did everything she could to slow William down as he dragged her away from the market square, but she was unable to completely stop him. “So run and hide. At least ye will be alive.”

“Nay for long, but I mean to have the satisfaction of kenning that ye are dead ere I meet my fate.”

“Lady Bethia?” Jennet called.

Bethia tried to call back but her voice was little more than a croak. “Ye willnae e’en get out of town.”

“Who is that?”

“My maid.”

“As if I fear some stupid little bitch. I ken that your husband isnae near. Those two women assured me that he is at court and thinks ye safe. One maid isnae enough to save you.”

Bethia was a little surprised that Catriona and Elizabeth had arranged this, although those were the only two women he could possibly be referring to. She had not thought that she had angered them enough for them to want her dead. Sending a murderer after her seemed a very harsh punishment for an insult.

“Lady Bethia? Are ye down there?”

Please
, Bethia prayed, as she started to weaken and William was able to move faster. Even little Jennet would be a help. The thought of dying was hard enough, but the thought that she could be taking her unborn child with her was more than she could bear.

Eric heard Bethia’s name being called and shoved his way through the crowd to the woman doing the yelling. It took him a minute to recognize the little maid. He struggled to recall her name as he reached her side.