Page 39 of Highlander’s False Identity

“Listen, Beathan; we need a wee talk about things,” she started slowly. She wanted him to be serious for a moment.

“Och, what is it, lass?” Beathan asked, still getting his clothes on. “We’ll just have a wee bite here, an’ then we can be at Duncan castle by late afternoon,” he said, unconcerned. Edme looked unsurely at him.

“That’s nae what I meant, Beathan,” she said, watching him closely. She loved the feel of him here, so close to her like this. Inside, a sweet ache took her, her body calling to his. However, she tried her hardest to focus on what needed to be said.

Beathan looked at her, uncomprehendingly. “Och, what?” he said with concern. Edme moved over towards him again, this time gently pressing her hands on his shoulders.

“Och, Beathan,” she said softly. “I enjoyed last night, ye ken. I did, but I… just dinnae want ye to feel as if ye owe me anything…”

Her eyes could not help alighting on his, and although she was trying to resist his intent, it proved hard. But once locked onto his emerald gaze, it was difficult to disengage. Edme watched slowly, as the expression on his face changed from assured to anxious.

“Och, I see,” he said. His face looked uncertain for a moment, and Edme felt for him. She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her tight. But all the same, she didn’t want to make herself seem too available.

“I mean, dinnae get me wrong, Beathan, I like ye,” she started, then stopped as he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Beathan did not look angered, but he certainly was rattled; Edme could tell by the attention he was suddenly paying to the lacing of his ghillies.

“Och, that’s alright,” he said, cheerfully, although when Edme looked him in the eye, he didn’t look as happy as the rest of his face suggested. “We can take it nice an’ slow until the wedding!” he said with a wink.

“W-wedding?” Edme said unsurely. Now her heart was beating double time. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about this, although it seemed likely that Beathan was playing with her. “What wedding?”

Beathan grinned. “Och, didnae ye ken? Our parents made us a match, all the way back when,” then seeing her disbelief, he smiled some more. “It’s true. Ye can ask my father if ye dinnae believe me! They had us paired off from the age of nine!”

Something passed through Edme, like a ripple, a strange feeling, half panic, half anticipation.

“Married?”

“Och, aye. It looks like we were always meant to be together!” Beathan said, looking at her expectantly.

A combination of longing and rage built up inside Edme, for a while she just stood there, open-mouthed. She was so conflicted; on the one hand, she desperately wanted Beathan. But the last thing she wanted was to be treated as a pawn in a transaction.

Confusion and fury raged inside her. Fury won.

“Och! If I had kent that, do ye think I would have slept wi’ ye!” she fumed.

Beathan regarded her, in surprise.

“Wh- what?” he said. Even in her rage, Edme stopped to admire the look of him, his léine loosely draped over his rippling torso. As the cold sunlight streamed through the small window, Beathan looked every bit as handsome as he had last night, maybe more. She was tempted to give herself to him, to go over right then and kiss him. But she resisted. The fury she felt was overpowering.

“I mean, ye think a lot of yerself, Beathan Craig, an’ ye always have!” Her eyes flashed angrily. Today they were more gray than blue.

Sometimes it seemed as if they changed color depending on what mood she was in. Beathan’s eyes followed her.

“All I said was…,” started poor Beathan, with an expression of complete confusion.

“Och, I ken what ye said. Ye slept wi’ me to seal the deal that ye think we’ve got. Well, I’m here to tell ye this – the deal’s off, mister!”

By now, Edme had worked herself up to quite a state. She was so angry it was almost as if sparks were coming off her. Beathan watched her in disbelief.

“Listen, hen, I think ye’ve got the wrong end of the stick,” he began, but Edme cut him dead.

“Nae, dinnae ye dare tell me what to think. I’ve got yer number alright, Beathan. Ye were using me as a wee tool in yer plan. I guess ye thought ye could have me an’ also have a handy pawn in the game against Dughall. Well, I’ve got news for ye, I’m no one’s stepping-stone!”

Beathan looked as if he had been slapped. But before he had time to speak, Edme was grabbing at her knapsack and heading for the door.

“Edme!” Beathan called after her. “Where ye goin’?”

Edme turned around momentarily, her eyes flashing and her hair flying.