Chapter 33
I t was very late, past dark, by the time Comgall finally returned to his rooms. Bethany had almost nodded off on the bench beside the fire, the warmth helping her tense muscles to soften. She jolted awake when Comgall walked in.
He shut the door quietly and smiled at her.
“Relax,” he said. “I don’t want to disturb you. I’m sure you need to rest.”
He pulled some wine from a small chest by the door. Raising an eyebrow, he waved a glass at Bethany and she nodded. He settled down beside her on the bench, close but not quite touching, and passed her a glass. Bethany gulped the wine gratefully. She’d thought the warmth relaxing, but it was nothing compared to the wine. Her body eased a little more as she sat there and stared into the fire.
“I really am very grateful,” she said quietly. “For everything you’ve done.”
She felt more than saw him shrug.
“I’m just happy I could help you,” he said .
Bethany took another sip of her wine as they sat in companionable silence.
“There’s no way to explain how terrified I was when I walked into that tent and saw the knife at your throat,” Comgall said for a moment. His voice was tight and choked, as if he struggled to hold back tears. “Who was that man?”
It was Bethany’s turn to choke a little.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” she said hastily.
Comgall sighed.
“Another secret,” he said. “Very well.”
Bethany said nothing in reply, just let the silence wrap around them like a warm blanket.
“Eithne will soon be going home to her own people,” Comgall said, his voice light and conversational again. “So, it seems like I’m no longer betrothed.”
He turned to Bethany, his eyes wide and earnest.
“Will you marry me now, Bethany? Now that I am entirely free to ask you? I confess, I already knew that you were not the real Eithne, even before she arrived. I should have said something, I know, but I was selfish, and I wanted to marry you anyway.”
Bethany’s jaw dropped.
“You knew ?” she whispered.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“There was a message,” he admitted. “I knew that Eithne was still in Ireland. But I didn’t want to know the truth. I wanted you, ever since the moment I saw you, standing there on the seashore, looking so proud and determined.”
Bethany could barely breathe. She stared at Comgall as tears blurred her vision.
“You’re a wonderful man,” she told him through a throat choked with sobs. “I care for you very, very much, but I cannot marry you.”
“Bethany, please-” Comgall said, reaching for her hands. She tugged free.
“You do not understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “That man holding a knife to my throat? He was my ex-husband. And now he knows where I am. He could come back and find me at any moment. I have to leave.”
Comgall shook his head, confusion clouding his hazel eyes.
“But where did he go? And how? We haven’t found a single trace of him. If I hadn’t seen him myself, I might think he’d never been there.”
“I can’t explain,” Bethany said. “But I need to leave here tomorrow. I need to go somewhere where he will never find me. Everything is already packed, and I’m ready to leave. I just wanted to wait a little longer. To tell you.”
“Think about this again,” Comgall said. This time, she let him grasp her hands. “I can keep you safe, Bethany. You never need to be afraid again.”
“I can’t live my life under guard,” Bethany said firmly. “I need to leave. To disappear.”
Comgall’s face crumpled.
“At least stay the night,” he said. “If Matthew’s finally sleeping, it would be a shame to wake him.”
Bethany’s body screamed at her to leave. Every moment she stayed was another moment that Lucan could find his way back. He’d said he didn’t have the power - but what if Dubnus’s death had given him enough strength for multiple journeys? He could be on his way already.
But Comgall was right. Matthew probably wouldn’t even wake up, he was that exhausted. And in this world of no streetlights or electric torches, travelling at night was at best dangerous. Maybe even impossible.
“I’ll wait until tomorrow,” she agreed.
Comgall smiled with a sweetness that melted her fear like snow. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Softly, at first, but Bethany could not pull away from the tenderness of his lips. They pressed closer and closer together, gasping into each other’s mouths as his fingers tangled in her hair and her hands gripped his muscular shoulders. Comgall suddenly gripped her by the hips and hoisted her onto his lap, so that she straddled him, her skirts tangled up around her legs. He kissed her again and again as his hands smoothed up her thighs. He pulled at her dress and under dress until he tugged them free and she was naked against the rough fabric of his trousers. She ground against him, softly moaning into his mouth. He tugged on the top of her dress, pulling it low enough that he could kiss her breasts while she pressed against him. Her body felt like it was burning at every point he touched her, sending fire surging through her veins. Her whole world narrowed to him. Everything else faded to black.
As Bethany kissed the side of his face, she felt Comgall’s hands fumbling at his own clothes. He unfastened the top of his trousers and lifted his tunic.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. She froze in shock - just as he grasped her hips and raised her up. She forgot everything else at the feel of him pressing against her. Then he thrust. She sank down with a moan as he rose up to meet her. She wrapped her arms around him and cried out at how beautiful and wonderful it was, her body singing out for joy.
He thrust one final time, shuddered, and fell still. Bethany still sat astride him, and he was still inside her .
Reaching out with one trembling hand, he smoothed a strand of hair from Bethany’s damp face. She leaned into the hand, letting her eyes flutter closed.
“Do you still have to leave?” he asked softly.
With those words, reality returned. The truth of what she was doing hit Bethany so hard that her heart jumped.
“I still have to leave,” she whispered. She disentangled herself from him, clambering back down to stand on the floor beside him. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, in case they showed the same pain she heard in his voice. This was the only way. She smoothed down her dress, although she could still feel the evidence of what had just happened.
The main door burst open. Bethany jumped backwards as Comgall threw himself in front of her. His sword lay on the other side of the room, beside the wine chest. Tomás and Eithne stood in the doorway - and Tomás held a naked sword, pointed at his brother.
“Get your son and get out of here,” he said to Bethany as he stepped into the room. “My quarrel isn’t with you. I’m here for the king.”