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IT WAS GOOD TO HAVE another woman along and that evening Greer dipped a cloth into the water, and carefully cleaned Bethia’s sore back. She decided Bethia did not need more of that painful medicine and everyone breathed easier. Yet they were all the way across Cameron land before they actually relaxed. Just as the men promised, they found a loch, made camp and planned to stay for a few days to let Bethia and the horses rest.
Pampering was exactly what the women needed and they took their time bathing while the men stood guard. Greer was nervous at first, but Bethia promised they would not shame their laird by looking, unless the women were in danger, and Greer finally relaxed and enjoyed herself.
After they dressed, both women moved close to the fire to dry their hair. They kept their backs to the loch so the men could take turns bathing. “You must not speak English anymore. Few MacGreagors know it and you need to practice your Gaelic, before you become betrothed to more than one lad.”
“I am not betrothed now.”
“As you wish. You could do worse than Brendan. He is a good lad.”
“I want to be in love.”
Bethia changed from brushing the right side of her hair, with her cousin’s brush, to the left. “Love is not always kind.”
“Perhaps, but ‘tis blind. You must be blind if you cannot see how much Hannish still loves you.”
Bethia quickly clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth and then slowly removed it. “On this one occasion only we will speak English. Hannish has a wife and a daughter, but he does not know where they are. What you see in his eyes is...”
“‘Tis love and not for a wife he cannot find. He loves you.”
“Do not say such a thing. ‘Tis wrong for a lad to love a lass who is not his wife.”
When Brendan came back and sat down, Bethia quickly changed the subject. “Is Hannish finished?”
“He is dressing. Do you need something?” He could not take his eyes off of Greer as she brushed her hair. At least she had not noticed and wasn’t giving him that annoyed look.
“Nay, I just wondered.” Bethia was trying desperately to think of a way to start a conversation between the two of them.”
Hannish finished dressing, put another log on the fire and then sat down on the other side of Greer. “Have you ever been to Scotland?”
“Nay, have you been to England?”
“Not before a few days ago. I did not like it.”
Greer smiled. “I do not like it either. For years, I have run up and down those stairs fetching this or putting away that. Now I am riding a horse and seeing the stars at night. Scotland is a much more pleasing country.”
“You did not leave any family behind?” Brendan wanted to know.
She rolled her eyes. “Half of England is my family. I have had three mothers, four fathers and more brothers and sisters than I care to count. My mother died, my father remarried, then he died and his wife remarried and on it went. At least I never saw the inside of an orphanage, and I am happy for that?”
“An orphanage?” asked Brendan.
“Aye, ‘tis a place for children with no parents, and not always a very good place.”
“I accept,” Brendan said.
Greer stared at him. “Accept what?”
“Your marriage proposal.”
Her mouth dropped and her eyes grew large. “You know full well that was a mistake.”
He narrowed his eyes, “A MacGreagor does not go back on a pledge ... ever.”
“Then I will not be a MacGreagor.”
Brendan grinned. “Too late.”
She was suddenly at a loss for words, but when the shock wore off, she glared at him. “I do not want a husband, not now and not ever!”
“I will wait.”
She wanted to get up and stomp off, but it was getting dark and it was not safe. So she just put her brush in her lap, tightly folded her arms and stared into the fire.
Bethia took pity on her friend. “Stop teasing her.”
“Bethia is right,” said Hannish. He got up and then offered his hand to Greer. “The lasses should now sit on the other side of the fire so the men can keep their backs to the loch and see if there is danger. Obediently, the women moved and without planning it, Bethia was sitting beside him and Greer was next to Brendan.
Greer glared at Brendan. “Do not touch me.”
“I had not planned to. However, I am not put off by your dismissal, I am accustomed to it.”
“I can see why.”
Brendan pretended to pout. “Why?”
“Because...because you are dim-witted.”
He rolled his eyes. “I am dim-witted? You are the one who pledged to marry a lad you do not know. That is the most dim-witted thing I have ever heard of.”
Greer was not about to let him have the last word. “I have heard of marriages where neither has even met the other before the priest marries them. It happens all the time in England and they do not call it dim-witted.”
“Yet a lad must see if a lass suits him before he marries,” said Brendan.
“You believe the lad should have the say? A lass must see if a lad suits her first.”
“And I do not suit you?”
Greer puffed her cheeks. “Are you always this difficult?”
Brendan finally smiled. “Aye.” It was the first time in three days she returned his smile and he was very pleased. Bethia was right; Greer MacGreagor was perfect for him.
*
HANNISH ENJOYED THEIR banter and loved watching Bethia while she finished drying her long, thick hair. He often glanced around to be sure they were not in danger, but it was the first time since he found her he felt really relaxed. He did not mean to ask, but there was one question he needed the answer to. “Bethia, why did you not tell me you were leaving?”
She could not believe he had the nerve to ask such a question. At first, she glared at him and then she looked away. Then she got really angry. If he needed to know how badly he hurt her, then she would just tell him. “I did not want you to see me cry.”
He looked incredulous. “If it was what you wanted, why would it make you cry?”
“What I wanted?” She blinked repeatedly, trying to think how he had come to that conclusion. “What made you think I wanted it?”
“It was your decision, you must have wanted it.”
“My decision?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How could I decide whom you would marry? You decided it, not me.”
“What are you talking about? I wanted to marry you.”
“So you said, but you could not have both of us.”
“Both of whom?”
“Me and Iona. You could not have two wives, you had to choose one of us, and you did not choose me...so I left.”
Hannish stared at her and then slowly dropped his gaze. “So that is what Iona was trying to tell me. She said she did something awful and wanted to talk to me about it. Then word came that the MacDonalds were ready to attack and I sent her away.”
Bethia wrinkled her brow. “What are you talking about?”
“The day after you went to England, Iona told me you left to marry a wealthy Englishman.”
Bethia’s mouth dropped. “...marry a...nay, that is not why I left.”
“I know that now. What did she tell you?”
“She said you had chosen to marry her. Are you saying you did not choose her?”
“And you believed her?”
“I had no reason to think she was lying. You believed her too.”
Hannish finally smiled, “True, I did.”
“Then you do not have a daughter?”
“Not a daughter and not a wife. Did you marry an Englishman?”
“I tried to like them, but...none of them were you.”
When he leaned toward her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You did not come after me.”
“I did not know you wanted me to.” He lightly kissed her lips. “I have missed you so.” If she had not been hurt, he would have picked her up and pulled her into his lap. Yet she was hurt so he had to contain his joy and wait until she could be in his arms the right way.
“Do you promise never to leave me?” she asked. Finally, his lips were on hers and she could openly love him again. Two wasted years were finally over, she was safe and she was loved by the only man she ever dreamed of.
Hannish kissed her twice more before he said, “Say you will marry me. Say it quickly so you cannot misunderstand this time.”
“I will marry you and love you the rest of my life.”
In the warm glow of a country campfire with two smiling people watching, Bethia MacGreagor sealed her promise with a long, passionate—forever kiss.
-end-
