They all knew, she thought, and blushed. Did they think she was being a fool or, worse, was just a whore? She realized next that they had known all along and not one had treated her differently.
She frowned before she could get too lost in that embarrassment and worry. No one had acted differently around her or Callum. They all acted as if everything was just as it should be. That could only mean one thing. Not one of them cared what she and Callum were doing near the burn. Bethoc found that hard to believe yet she could not ignore the facts. She turned to speak to Callum only to find him sprawled on his back, hands behind his head, and his eyes closed.
“Callum?”
He opened his eyes and grinned at her. “Have ye stopped fretting? Mayhap sorted it all out?”
“I wasnae fretting; I was merely thinking on it.”
“Ye were fretting.”
She decided to ignore that. “They dinnae care.”
Sitting up, he put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “Nay, love, they dinnae.”
The last of her confused emotions melted away. “Weel, I guess I had best go and ready something for everyone to eat then.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and tried to speak calmly. “And to ready some food to take with us when we leave.”
“I am thinking we will go alone to see Brett. Leave the boys here with Robbie, Uven, and Simon and just the two of us go there. Then ye can meet without anyone’s expectations muddling things. Talk freely and all that.”
“How long will it take?”
“Weel, if we dinnae stay long, it could be done in two or three days. Then back here, collect the lads and Margaret, and head off to Whytemont. What do ye think?”
She thought about it for a few minutes. It would mean she could meet the man with none of her family to worry about. Also, she would have a few nights alone with Callum. They got little of that. There was always someone around, some child who drew her attention. Selfish it might be but she nodded. She was going to grab for it.
* * *
Bethoc stared at Banuilt as they approached and felt her stomach slowly tie itself up in knots. This was madness, she decided. She was too old to go looking for a father. And how would the poor man explain her to his wife? The very last thing she wished to do was cause trouble for him with his wife. She was just about to turn her horse around when Callum reached over and grabbed her reins.
“Nay, ye willnae turn coward now,” he said. “He is expecting you.”
“Weel, he wouldnae be if ye hadnae sent word so fast. I am sure his wife isnae pleased.”
“About what? That o’er twenty years ago the boy her husband used to be had a brief affair with a young lass? Or had a bairn? She has one of those by him so nay room for jealousy about that. Ye fret too much, love, although ye do astound me at times o’er what ye come up with to fret about.”
“I am so pleased I amuse you.”
“Didnae say amused, said astounded, but that bodes weel for our future.”
She was about to ask him what future he spoke of when he was distracted by the men on the walls of Banuilt. After what was a lot of bellowed nonsense the gates slowly opened. There on the steps into the impressive keep stood a tall, black-haired man. He had his arm draped around a much smaller woman with long hair that appeared brown except where the sunlight struck it and red shown through.
Callum helped her dismount and walked her over to the man she had come to meet. Her first thought was that if her mother had to lose herself in a dream, Sir Brett Murray was a good choice. He had to be inching toward forty but he looked a lot younger, his body lean and fit, his eyes a sharp bright green. She idly wished she had been gifted with those. His black hair, however, was as thick and dark as her own and, she was pleased to note, was as yet untouched by gray.
She was introduced to Lady Triona and found only an honest welcome. If the woman had been upset to discover her husband had a grown child, they had already argued about and settled the matter. Bethoc did feel a pang for her mother, however. If not for one lost piece of paper, she could have had this man instead of suffering under Kerr’s fist for years.
Brett introduced his children Ella and Geordan. Bethoc wondered why the pretty little girl had a cat riding on her shoulder but Callum patted the animal as if that was normal. She did wish she had brought the boys though as they would have loved such a sight.
It was not until they were at the table in the great hall, children gone, the food enjoyed, and no one else in the hall that Brett finally asked, “How . . . nay . . . why did she ne’er contact me? I left the information she needed.”
“I fear she lost it.” Bethoc smiled sadly when his eyes widened in shock. “My mother was sweet, loving, her manners perfect, but I fear she wasnae”—Bethoc thought hard on what to say then shrugged—“too sharp of wit. She wasnae a dullard or the like, ’tis just that she . . .” Bethoc struggled to explain clearly.
“Dreamed a lot,” Brett said. “She was one to get lost in dreams.”
“Aye, exactly. E’en then?” When he nodded, Bethoc shook her head. “I wondered about that. It got worse as the years passed and I fear the mon her family made her marry didnae help.”
“She had an unhappy life?” asked Triona.
Bethoc hesitated to tell the whole truth but Callum patted her hand. She looked at him and he nodded. If he felt Brett could deal with it, then she could tell. She softened it as much as she could but decided it was not enough when Triona’s eyes filled with tears over the tale of the babies in the garden. Nevertheless, she continued until ending at Kerr’s death.
