Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Everyone watched in silence as the two Englishmen galloped away.
Instead of searching for comfort in her friend, Gwenllian found herself shuffling closer to Alasdair.
The poor man looked as if his heart had been wrenched out of his body with red-hot pincers.
Gwenllian thought she understood how he felt.
Except that it seemed to her as if her heart had simply vanished—her chest was hollow, rather than aching.
Either way, it was a most horrid sensation.
Once the riders had been swallowed by the forest, there was nothing else to do than go back inside.
It had started to rain, a light drizzle that promised to evolve into a deluge before long.
Shivering, she thought of Alexander and William on the road, wet and cold.
Couldn’t they have delayed their departure another day?
Apparently not.
“I would like Alasdair to accompany us when we go to Wales,” she declared that evening, while she, Bethan and Cameron ate a simple meal by the fire. The squire would no doubt welcome the opportunity to spend a few days with Willian while they stopped at Sheridan Manor.
Bethan exchanged a knowing glance with her husband.
“Aye, we had already decided to ask him to come,” Cameron said eventually.
“A man as strong and skilled as he is will be a real asset on the road. I fear, however, that he will not make it all the way to Esgyrn Castle, so we will take Angus and Murdo with us as well, for the remaining part of the journey.”
“Not make it all the way to Wales?” Gwenllian was surprised. “Why not?”
“It is time he was made into a knight and found his own place to live. I have a feeling he might well decide to settle in England.”
With William.
The words were left unsaid, but she had the feeling that was what he meant. And she agreed. The kiss she had seen had been too passionate, the sadness in Alasdair’s eyes this afternoon too deep. The men were not just sleeping together. They were in love.
“You know, then?” she murmured.
Bethan arched a brow. “We do. After what William did for me, offering to marry me to protect my child from harm, we wanted to ensure he found his own happiness, so we introduced him to Alasdair. The two of them formed an immediate bond, as we’d hoped.
” She picked another raspberry. “How do you know about them, though?”
“I saw them together a few days after my arrival here,” Gwenllian confessed. If her friends knew, there was no point keeping the secret any longer. “And I saw the way Alasdair looked when William left today.”
Much like I did, I expect, when Alexander rode away.
“Yes,” her friend said slowly. “That look was hard to miss.”
Was she talking about Alasdair or Gwenllian now? Cameron reached out for his wife’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“There is nothing so awful as being parted from those we love, not knowing when or if we will see them again,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
No, indeed.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I will retire,” Gwenllian said in a deathly voice. “I am rather tired.”
Tears had started to well in her eyes, and sobs were bubbling in her throat. She would not be able to hold them in for much longer. It was inevitable that she should falter, and might even feel better for it, but she could not do it now, not before she had reached the privacy of her room.
It was only when she saw the bunch of buttercups Alexander had deposited on her bed before leaving that she let out the howl she had been holding inside from the moment her fierce knight had left.
Gwenllian woke up to a familiar dull sensation in her lower body.
Rolling onto her back, she sighed. Her courses had come right when she expected them.
Well, why did she feel so wretched? She should be relieved that Alexander had not given her anything other than pleasure during their time together, shouldn’t she?
She should be glad to see that his efforts at control had not been in vain, considering how much it had cost him to withdraw from her pulsing body every time he had reached his release. She should be grateful, and she was.
Still, later that morning, as she watched Cameron walk into the main hall with his son nestled in the crook of his arm, she couldn’t help a pang of—was it regret? Or something even worse, like longing for something she would never have?
Questions started to whirl through her mind.
What if Alexander really had gotten her with child?
How would he look with a baby in his arms?
Would the babe have looked like him? Would it have had his dark hair or her blonde tresses?
Dark or green eyes? Pale or bronzed skin?
Would it have been a boy or girl? Did she have a preference?
Had he ever imagined himself as a father?
It was unlikely, considering his family history.
He had once told her that he didn’t think a man in his situation could get married.
If he were determined not to find a wife, then he would have made his peace with never having children.
He was too honorable to father bastards he would not be allowed to raise properly.
“Gwenllian, good morning.”
The greeting jolted her out of her reverie. “Good m-morning,” she stammered.
Cameron smiled at her, amused she had not seemed to register his entrance into the room. “Seeing as you’re here, would you hold Callum for me a moment? I had promised to go see Laird McPherson this morning. It’s a rather long ride, and I’m already late. Bethan won’t be long.”
“Of course.”
She took the little boy from him, forcing herself not to think of how it would feel to hold her own child against her chest. Before she had come to Scotland, stupid as it was, she had not realized that not being married meant not being a mother.
But now that she did, the notion sat rather ill with her.
Her situation was the opposite of Alexander’s.
To someone growing up in a loving family, like she had, the idea of not having children was like a condemnation.
This was why she had felt dejected this morning when her courses had come, she realized.
Having a child from a wild tryst was the only way she could ever become a mother, and she had been forced to see that she had missed her chance.
Was it really a “chance” though?
Of course not.
Such a child would be forever seen as tainted and she as a wanton.
So, was she ready to face public condemnation?
She wasn’t sure. A tryst that would remain secret, she could handle, a child that would proclaim to the world what she had done would be another matter.
She would just have to be happy with the numerous nieces and nephews she would be surrounded by.
In fact, she had started to suspect Jane might be with child again.
Perhaps by the time she got back home, she would be told about the new babe.
The idea of going back to Wales did not fill her with as much joy as it should have.
Because once she was back at Castell Esgyrn, her adventure would be over.
She doubted she would have the courage to go on another, or more to the point, she wasn’t sure she would want to.
When she had set off, she had wanted to find a man who could introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh.
Anyone would have done, provided she felt some attraction toward them.
Now, after Alexander, she suspected that she wouldn’t be satisfied with just anyone.
As promised, it was not long before Bethan arrived, looking slightly flushed. Gwenllian suddenly understood why Cameron had been late for his appointment with the man he was supposed to meet. She smiled to herself. How had she not guessed?
“There he is. Has he not been too restless?” Bethan asked, taking her son to give him a kiss.
“No. He’s been perfect.”
“Has Cameron left?”
“Yes.”
Bethan nodded. “Thanks for looking after Callum. I was… Well, I was…”
“In bed with your husband,” Gwenllian supplied with an arched brow.
Her friend’s blush reached all the way to the roots of her hair, but she didn’t even think of pretending it was not the case. “I suppose I was.”
And why not? If Cameron was anywhere near as skilled as Alexander at pleasuring women, it was little wonder Bethan would want to lie in bed with him every chance she got. With a young son, every opportunity had to be seized with both hands.
“Come. Let us go out while the rain is holding off,” she suggested. “I’m afraid the respite won’t last long.”
It did not. For the next three weeks, it rained every day.
“Safe travel, my laird. Worry not, Nead an Diabhail is in good hands.”
“I know, my friend.”
Murdo was staying behind after all. To everyone’s surprise—and delight—the gruff Scot had married Moira, the miller’s niece, the week before.
Apparently, the woman was more than satisfied with his performance in bed because she had been the one proposing marriage.
Cameron had forbidden his friend to leave his new bride mere days after their wedding, and there had been no protest. Angus and a young groom called Malcolm would be their traveling companions.
Little Callum, comfortably settled against his mother’s chest by way of a scarf cleverly knotted around her body, was already asleep. He would not even notice that they would pass through two different countries in the next few months.
“We are in no hurry anyway,” Cameron decreed as he vaulted into the saddle. “We simply need to get to Sheridan Manor safely and then Castell Esgyrn.”
Gwenllian nodded, but she could not wait for the moment they reached their destination.
Unsurprisingly, Alasdair shared her excitement.
The two of them had become good friends in the last few weeks.
The sharing of a secret of sorts had created a bond between them.
She knew about his feelings for William, and she had the impression that he had guessed hers for Alexander, even if they had never explicitly discussed anything.
She brought Buttercup next to his bay stallion and smiled.
“Will this be your first visit to England?”
“Yes.” He looked around the bailey pensively, like someone trying to commit the place to memory. “It will also be my last.”
“I’m sure William will be overjoyed to see you,” she whispered, worried he thought this encounter would mark the end of their affair.
Surely it would not be? Without knowing why, she was desperate for the two men to be reunited. Perhaps because it would be proof that anything was possible. That a wild, unexpected adventure could lead to a more permanent arrangement. That love could blossom on a seemingly sterile branch.
Love.
Over the last few weeks, she had often wondered if that was what she felt when she thought of Alexander, before pushing the uncomfortable idea out of her mind.
It had better not be love, as it would lead to all sorts of complications.
How could two people, one apparently not interested in marrying, the other convinced she would not marry, who lived in different countries, and who had agreed to simply enjoy each other’s bodies, be in love? It would be a nightmare.
But love could well have bloomed between William and the handsome Scottish squire. She wished that were the case.
“I hope he will be pleased, but I cannot be sure. By the time I see him again, it will have been almost two months since he left. What if he’s forgotten me?
Found someone else and moved on?” Alasdair shrugged, the carefree gesture hiding what must be a wealth of anguish.
“We never entered this with any expectations, you know, it just happened, like a whirlwind.”
A whirlwind that just happened on its own. Yes.
This was so close to what she was thinking that Gwenllian did not know what to reply.
What if Alexander had forgotten her? Found someone else to warm his bed?
It would be a lot easier for him to do so, since his tastes were more conventional.
She wasn’t worried he would have found someone to marry, but that still didn’t mean he would still want her when he saw her. Then what would she do?
Go home alone, which she would do even if he agreed to resume their dalliance for a few days.
Her good mood suddenly dissipated.
By her side, Alasdair appeared just as gloomy.
“So, you see, either way, this will be my last visit to England,” he said, as Cameron gave the signal to depart.
“Either William has forgotten me, which means I will have no reason to ever go back.” He looked her straight in the eye.
“Or he has not forgotten, and he still wants me. In which case, I will never leave him again.”
Gwenllian swallowed. “I hope for your sake it is the latter.”
“Yes. So do I.”
“Would you not miss your country, though?”
He shrugged again. “Of course, I would. But ’tis no matter. I can always visit from time to time. And home is where the heart is, that much I know. I doubt Lady Campbell would rather be in Wales, even if it is her home, than here with her husband and bairn.”
Gwenllian stole a glance at Bethan and Cameron, who were riding side by side at the head of the group. Indeed. They looked as if they could have gone to the end of the earth, as long as they went together.
“Yes, you’re right.”
She was lucky she had two places to call home, even if her heart was in Wales.
For the first time, she wondered how it would really feel to live in England.
Convinced she was destined to remain at Castell Esgyrn, she had never asked herself the question.
But perhaps it would not be so bad? Like Alasdair had just said, she could always visit.
“If I may be so bold as to say, my lady,” the Scot started, looking at her only briefly. “I hope… I hope that your knight will not have forgotten you either.”
With those words, he turned his horse to bring up the rear of the retinue where it had been agreed he would ride. Gwenllian didn’t answer.
She was so stunned she wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.