Free Highland Promise by Hannah Howell

William.
    Eric got up and started to pack their things. They would have to leave in the morning. He had felt that they could leave this morning, but Bethia had convinced him that one more day of rest would ensure the fever would not return. He had to admit that he had not looked forward to riding for a whole day. Eric grimaced and glanced toward the door. He had hoped to spend the day furthering his attempt to pull Bethia into his bed. Instead, she had pushed for the truth and he had given it to her, saying the one thing that could keep her out of his arms. Although he wanted her more than he had ever wanted a woman, he was a little surprised at how much that thought distressed him. Perhaps, hemused, while Bethia was struggling to sort out her thoughts, he ought to take a longer, harder look at what he was thinking and feeling, besides the need to bury himself in her warmth.
     
    Bethia sighed with weariness when she reached the top of the hill. It was a hard climb to make twice in such a short span of time. She sat on the grass, staring out at the surrounding land, but seeing little. Eric’s words had shocked her deeply. The only way to give them the thought and consideration they required was to get away from him, away from his bonny face and seductive voice.
    Emotion was disordering her thinking and she knew it. For a moment, all she had been able to think of was that the man she had turned to for help was yet another seeking land and coin at the expense of others. The fact that she had refused to allow him to compare himself to William, or think that she did, revealed that at least some common sense was still at work within her disordered thoughts. Bethia took several deep breaths of the crisp air. She needed to calm herself and think, needed to grasp reason and push all emotion aside.
    Unlike William, Eric had a right to what he sought. Bethia did not think she was being foolishly quick to believe his claims. The tale he had told was too dark, too wild to be anything more than the truth. And no matter what she felt about what he was doing, she simply could not make herself believe that Eric would lie to her. In fact, if he was given to lying, he would never have told her a tale that he had to know could push her very far away.
    What troubled her the most, she realized, was the implication that he was ready to fight for what he considered was his. Bethia had the sinking feeling that her unease over that had little to do with the trouble she now faced. It was very possible that she simply did not like the idea of Eric going to battle over anything.
    Slowly standing up, she decided she had reacted badly to his news. She had sought the truth and now had to deal with it. It was not so bad. He sought only what was his. Somehow she would get over her distaste for battles fought over land or money. In truth, she thought with a sigh as she studied the landscape, it might not matter if she did or did not. Eric might want to bed her, but there had been no talk of any deeper feelings or a future. It was quite possible he would leave her at Dunnbea and ride away.
    Just as she started to turn to go back down the hill, Bethia caught sight of a group of riders. She quickly flung herself to the ground so that she would not be seen and watched the men riding slowly toward the hill. Even from a distance, she recognized the hulking forms of William and his two sons. Theirs were distinctive shapes and equally distinctive poor riding styles. Squirming back toward the path on her belly, she finally stood up and scrambled down the hillside. Their time of rest and quiet had come to an abrupt end. She prayed she and Eric could get away before they were seen.
    Eric looked up when Bethia stumbled into the hut. Her obvious distress was all the warning he needed. He quickly yanked on his boots and reached for his sword.
    “How near are they?” he demanded.
    “On the far side of the hill.” Seeing that he had already packed their things, she