Page 38 of A Knight for Gwenllian

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?”