Bethoc wriggled and, even though it stirred his interest, he let her go. He grinned at her blushes as she struggled to fix her dress then tried to discreetly dismount. When she turned to look for the braies he had tossed aside, he pulled his kilt down and sat up to reach for them where he had tossed them to the bottom of the pallet. After handing them to her he watched as she somehow managed to don them without exposing too much skin.
“Why do ye wear those?” he asked.
She grimaced. “Several years ago I had a bad tumble in the garden and my skirts flew up. The boys either laughed or kept asking me where my, er, dangly was.”
“Your dangly?” he choked out as he struggled hard not to burst out laughing.
“They were just little boys. Aye, dangly.” She shook her head when he laughed so hard he fell back on the pallet. “The older boys laughed too. But, after that embarrassing moment, I decided, weel, why cannaeIwear what they do? Couldnae see why I shouldnae be able to.”
“Nay, except few lassies do. A lot of the Murray women do though.”
“Really? Why?”
“Same reason ye do, I suspicion.”
“I am pleased to hear I am nay the only one to think of it. Weel, I really must be getting home now,” she said, trying desperately not to appear as if she was fleeing the place.
There was no denying that was exactly what she wished to do. It had been wonderful while they had been doing it but now she could not think of a thing to say or how to act. Bethoc was desperately afraid she could all too easily make a fool out of herself.
He stood up and reached for his walking stick. She stood there looking as if she was wanting to bolt out the opening so he put his arm around her waist and gently kissed her until some of the tension began to leave her body. What he had done was make her feel unsure, awkward, and that was the very last he had wanted to do.
“Ye arenae planning on staying away, are ye?”
She rubbed her hands over her face, suspecting it gave away all her thoughts. “I cannae believe I just . . . I dinnae do that sort of thing. I didnae e’en ken what it was!”
“I noticed.” He touched a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I am sincerely praying that ye will do it again with me though.”
“Ye are?”
“Dinnae sound so surprised, love.” He started to walk her to the doorway. “I quite enjoyed myself.”
She blushed and looked away. “Weel, aye, it was nice.” She frowned when he clasped his hand to his heart and staggered a little. “What?”
“Nice? Ye wound a mon with faint praise.”
“Now ye are just being silly,” she grumbled. “T’was wondrous. Happy now?”
“Aye.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Ye could say it with a smile though.”
“And now ye are teasing.” She shook her head but a grin tugged at her mouth. “I have to go.”
They talked a little more as she opened the way out and he prayed he had eased that embarrassment she had felt, eased it enough that she would not avoid him. Callum watched her leave. She looked around a lot before she stepped out and as she walked, which pleased him. He also surveyed the area carefully. Once she was out of view, he sighed, put the bushes back in place, and returned to his pallet. Callum prayed he had not frightened her away for he already wanted her back.
Her smell still lingered on his bedding and he sighed again. Bethoc had not only been a virgin, she had been completely ignorant. He was astounded that he could have been yet it was obvious Matheson had never let her leave the house. Her mother had been too lost in her dreams to teach her child anything and he could not see her father telling her anything either. Looking at how she had lived he supposed it should not surprise him that she could be so completely innocent at her age, an age where she should have been married or at least contemplating marriage.
Old memories stung him before he could stop them and he found himself feeling as if he had sullied her with his touch. He had not been innocent of much of anything since he was a small child. When he had reached an age to be intrigued by women, he had done all he could to get as much knowledge as he could. For a man like him to touch such a pure innocent seemed wrong.
Callum cursed, shaking away the moment of doubt. He could not change anything in his past and he had done no harm. There was nothing to feel guilty about. He was just put off his stride by Bethoc’s innocence. It was not something he encountered often in a woman for it had never been what he looked for. He had hunted experienced ladies who would allow a man in their bed for a while and then he could walk away. No bonds, just some pleasant memories.
He settled himself more comfortably against the wall. Before this went any further he had to decide what he was going to do about Bethoc. She was more than just an evening’s entertainment. That was about the only thing he was sure of.
She had had a hard life with Kerr Matheson and that tugged at his sympathy, his need to shelter those who suffered from abuse. Yet he deeply admired her. She cared for all those children, only Margaret being truly related to her. Despite her hard life she was kind and he knew well that kindness was difficult to hold on to when living under a man’s fists. And she still found things to take joy in. Yes, he deeply respected her and admired that quiet strength she revealed.
There was a lot to like about Bethoc but he knew that was not what had him thinking he could take her to his home, to settle her at Whytemont. The way that thought kept slipping into his head was driving him mad. Callum could not understand what it meant. Did he think he could keep her as his mistress and she would care for the various strays he tended to collect? A heartbeat later he knew the answer to that absurd question was no. But he still needed some explanation for his urge to take her home with him.
“Ye look thoughtful,” said Simon as he strode into the cave, followed by Robbie and Uven.
“And ye are back sooner than I expected,” said Callum, silently thanking God they had not returned earlier.
