“Beth?”

Lifting her head, she peered at the door, but didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was seated with her back against the wall between the toilet and the vanity, her arms wrapped around her knees and her heart breaking. Beth couldn’t believe she’d done it, that she’d actually said what she had and walked away from Scotty, but it was really for the best. She had to take care of herself. That was something life had taught her—that ultimately you had to take care of yourself, because you couldn’t always trust that someone else would do it for you.

“Beth, I know ye’re upset,” Scotty said now, his voice pained. “And ye’ve every right to be. I’ve been an arrogant and thoughtless prick. But please, ye do no’ ha’e to let me in, but please just listen to what I’m going to say?”

Silence followed the plea, and Beth supposed he was waiting for a response, but she didn’t give one. She simply waited, and after a moment he began to speak.

“First, if I was cold and distant with ye over the decades, it was no’ because I did no’ like ye, lass. I might ha’e had trouble accepting yer past, but I never disliked ye,” he said firmly. “I acted like that around ye because I was fighting the desire to drag ye into me arms and bed. Kenning, as I did, that ye were me life mate, it was a mighty struggle no’ to do so, but I kenned ye were no’ ready fer that.”

There was silence for a minute, as if he was waiting for a response. When she didn’t give one, he continued, “But ye’re right. I’ve spent the last century or more being small-minded and judging ye when I had no right to. I did no’ even know ye, lass. I just made judgments based on the little bit I did ken. I knew that ye’d been a prostitute as a mortal, and made me judgments based on that, because I’ve always had a certain belief about what kind o’ woman would trade her body fer coin. But ye’re no’ that woman, lass. I ken that now.”

Scotty paused again, but Beth remained silent. Waiting.

“And it’s no’ just because o’ all ye told me. I’d come to that conclusion meself while we were healing from the fire, and I meant to tell ye soon as we rested, but when I woke ye were gone and . . .”

She heard his sigh through the door.

“Forgive me, lass, fer no’ seeing ye clearly all these years. Ye’ve shown me the kind o’ woman ye are in so many ways over this last century. I just was no’ looking.

“Beth, ye’re smart, and ye’re brave, lass. Ye run into trouble to aid others without concern fer yer own well-being. I kenned that even ere this trip, though I don’t think I admitted it even to meself then. But that first day here, I knew instinctively ye’d run into trouble to save that woman Walter Simpson had, despite knowing help was twenty minutes out. Ye could ha’e been beheaded and killed ere help arrived, and ye kenned it and rushed in anyway.

“And then there was Kira. Ye were so kind with her. Ye could ha’e just passed on the message Mortimer said to give her, and left it at that. But ye saw she was in pain and suicidal and ye made sure to give her a reason to live and convinced her to come here to Toronto.

“And the mortal at the dance club? She had nothing to do with ye. Ye could ha’e just walked back to the dance floor and left her to her own sorrows, but ye followed her to try to help.

“And then there’s me. Lass, ye took on me pain to help me sleep and heal, and that was some terrible pain. Most women would ha’e run from it, but ye bore it to ease me suffering.

“Beth, the kind o’ woman I decided ye were would ne’er ha’e done any o’ those things . . . Me mother ne’er would ha’e done any o’ those things.”

Beth had lowered her head as Scotty spoke, but lifted it sharply and stared at the door at the mention of his mother.

“Magnus told me I had issues with me mother,” he said solemnly. “He said that I was mixing ye up with her. I told him he was wrong, but now I see he was right. I was sure I had just learned well the lessons she’d taught me. But the truth is I was painting ye with the same brush as her because she was a cold heartless whore who traded her body for coin and anything else she wanted, and I thought any woman who was a prostitute must be the same. But ye’re no’ heartless, and . . . I was wrong,” he said helplessly.

“And I swear, when ye finished telling me everything, I . . . this time I did no’ suggest the three-on-one because I can no’ accept yer past. That’s no’ true anymore. The truth is . . . it fair crushed me heart to hear all ye’ve gone through. I felt so helpless, kenning ye were on yer own through all that, and that I could no’ help ye. I wanted to take away the pain I had no’ been there to prevent.

“Lass,” Scotty said solemnly, “Matias said that he wondered if ye would still be me life mate were yer memory wiped. That question has plagued me since he mentioned it. It still does. It bothered me then because, as much as I did no’ feel I could claim ye, I could no’ seem to let ye go either. But Beth, by the time ye finished talking, I thought if the mind wipe would give ye some measure o’ freedom from the torments ye’d suffered, I’d risk it. Because I think I love ye, lass. And I’d rather spend the rest o’ me life unmated and miserable, but kenning ye were happy and—”

Scotty stopped speaking abruptly and blinked in surprise when Beth suddenly opened the door. She hadn’t been able to stop herself after the part about his thinking he loved her. She’d leapt up from the floor and opened the door and now faced him solemnly.

“I don’t need my memories wiped,” Beth said firmly. “My past doesn’t torment me anymore. I like myself.”

“No, I ken that now,” Scotty assured her, looking relieved that she’d relented enough to open the door. “And I like ye too. I was just telling ye that. But I’m grateful ye do no’ want it, lass, because I love ye, Beth, just the way ye are, and it truly would break me heart to lose ye now.”

Beth almost threw herself into his arms right then, but made herself hold back and asked, “Will ye tell me about yer mother?”

Scotty closed his eyes briefly and sighed, but then nodded solemnly. “If ye wish it. Aye.” He hesitated briefly and then said, “Did ye want to sit down while I do, or—”

“No,” Beth interrupted. “I want to rest on the bed.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise and then lowered with concern. “Are ye no’ feeling well, lass? Rachel said ye were fully healed, but if ye’re no’ feelin’—”

“It isn’t that,” Beth said, stepping forward. She slipped her arms around his waist, but then leaned back to meet his gaze and said, “It’s just . . . as stubborn, stupid and arrogant as ye can be, I think I love ye too,” she admitted solemnly. “And I—”

That was as far as she got before Scotty closed his arms around her and ended her words by covering her mouth with his. Breathing a sigh into his mouth, Beth relaxed into his arms and kissed him back with all she had in her, hardly able to believe that it might work out. That he actually might love her and she him, and—

Her thoughts died and she gasped into his mouth when he suddenly scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He broke their kiss to set her on it, and then crawled onto it next to her, but when he reached for her again, she placed a hand on his chest. “Your mother?”

Scotty stilled, and then sighed and nodded. “Right . . . me mother.”

Grimacing, he settled on the bed next to her to sit with his back against the headboard, and then waited for her to sit up beside him. Once she had, he raised his arm and put it around her, drawing her to rest against his chest. After a pause, though, he asked, “Do ye really want to hear this, lass? I ken ye’re nothing like her.”

“I want to hear it,” she assured him solemnly. “Ye know my past. Let me know yours.”

Scotty nodded, and then leaned his head back and said, “Well, to start off, I should give ye some history on me da first.”

“Okay,” she murmured, settling in against him and waiting patiently.

“Me da was married before he met me mother. His first wife was the love o’ his life, and they were married for fifteen years ere she died. They were very happy together but for one thing—in all those years there was no hint o’ a bairn fer them.”

“How sad,” Beth murmured.

“Aye.” Scotty nodded. “And then there was me mother. She was a whore. No’ professionally. At least, she did no’ have a pimp or live in a brothel. However, she traded sexual favors for—” he shrugged helplessly, his chest moving under her “—basically for whatever she wanted. She slept with the king to gain favor for her father, and boost his—and by extension her—position at court. She slept with high-ranking officials, lairds . . . basically anyone who could do something for her that she wanted. And then she slept with me father.”

“What did she want from him?” Beth asked with curiosity.

Pausing, Scotty frowned. “As I recall, the story went, she wanted some bit o’ property he owned, for—” Scotty hesitated and then shook his head. “—for something. I’m no’ sure I was ever told what she wanted the property for, or what it meant to her. All I ken is a bit o’ land is the only reason I exist.”

Beth raised her eyebrows dubiously at that, and Scotty smiled.

“Truly,” he assured her, and then continued, “She showed up at the keep, in the midst o’ a winter storm. Da later learned she stayed at a neighboring keep for weeks ere the storm hit, and the minute it set in, she left and traveled to our castle.” Glancing down at her, he explained, “Hospitality was important in the Highlands, and turning her away would no’ have been hospitable, so it was pretty much guaranteed she’d no’ be turned away.”

Leaning his head back, he continued, “She promptly set about what she did best and seduced me father. Afterward, she simply expected him to sign over the deed of the land she wanted to her. Just like that,” he said with disgust.

“Thought that much of herself, did she?” Beth asked with dry amusement.

Scotty shrugged. “It had worked for her in the past. She was a beautiful woman, and apparently she was very skilled in bed.”

“But it didn’t work with your father?” Beth guessed.

“Me father was no’ a stupid man. He knew if he gave her what she wanted, she’d be on her merry way. It was, he told me, an especially bitterly cold winter with little to do, so he hemmed and hawed, and said he’d think about it and such. Well, my mother simply saw that as a challenge. She was so vain she did no’ for a minute believe she would no’ get her way. This went on until the spring, by which point Father was growing bored with her, and as the mountain pass thawed, he was growing more and more eager to send her on her way sans the deed. But then he began to suspect she was pregnant.”

“With you,” Beth said with a grin.

“Aye.” He smiled at her expression and squeezed her tighter briefly, then said, “Well, Da had always wanted children, or at least an heir. So to him, this was a blessed miracle.”

“And to your mother?” she asked.

“A bargaining chip,” Scotty said dryly. “In fact, to this day I do no’ ken for sure that MacDonald was me father, or if she was sleepin’ with one or several o’ his men to get pregnant, and claiming it was his to have that bargaining chip. However, he believed I was his and that was all that mattered . . . to both o’ us. He was a good father,” he assured her.

Beth nodded solemnly.

“At any rate,” Scotty continued, “once he realized she was pregnant, me da insisted she marry him. She refused, but said that if he signed that bit o’ property o’er to her, she’d give me to him when I was born. But Father did no’ trust her. He feared the moment he signed the deed o’ property over to her, she’d find a way to be rid o’ me.”

Glancing down at her again, he explained, “She’d been pregnant a time or two before, ye see. And none o’ those bairns had survived. Actually, I learned later that she had been pregnant many more times than even me father suspected. She was very fertile, but according to her maid, only three bairns survived to birth. Apparently she had a concoction that included wild carrot and I do no’ ken what else that she would drink to rid herself o’ unwanted babes. When that did no’ work, she got rid o’ the bairns by other methods after birth. One she apparently gave, along with some coin, to some peasants on her father’s estate to raise. I gather she was fond o’ the father o’ that child,” he said with a shrug. “Another she drowned at birth, and another she simply abandoned out in the cold on a winter night. She never knew if it froze to death, was rescued by someone or was killed by wolves. She didn’t bother to check.

“So, me father kenned about the other bairns and did no’ trust her,” Scotty said, returning to the tale. “There was no way he was going to sign o’er the property ere she gave birth. He suggested she carry the baby to term, give it over to him, and then he’d sign the deed. She refused that offer and insisted he do it now, or the bairn, me, would no’ make it to birth. A rather stupid threat to make if ye think about it,” he pointed out. “I mean, she was alone with naught but her maid, who was no’ very loyal, in someone else’s castle.”

“Yes, that does seem stupid,” Beth agreed.

“Aye, but me mother was no’ a stupid woman,” he assured her. “I can only think that she was so frustrated that she was no’ getting her way fer once in her life, that she lost her temper and ran off at the mouth.” Scotty shrugged. “Whatever the case, me father’s response was to lock her in the tower and ensure she was watched at all times so that she could no’ concoct or take anything that might end the pregnancy, or otherwise rid herself of it. And then he waited, and on the day that she went into labor, he sent for the priest, and had him wait in the Great Hall while he went up to her room. He told her she was having the baby. Not only that, but he was ensuring it would survive by taking it away from her the moment it was born. He said he’d then announce my birth to the world and present me to the king as his child by her. She would be ruined . . . unless she married him and made me legitimately his heir.”

“Just a minute,” Beth protested. “Are ye telling me, with all her sleeping around and all the babies, she wasn’t already ruined?”

Scotty grinned at her disbelief. “So long as it was only the men who knew what she got up to, she was safe. After all, they were all hoping to get into her bed again. But if a woman got wind . . .” He shook his head. “Then she would ha’e been ruined fer certain.”

“Humph,” Beth muttered with disgust, and then sighed and said, “She married your father?”

Scotty nodded. “I gather she argued, fought, cursed and swore. But in the end she had no choice. Were she ruined, he told her he would ensure she was sent to a nunnery where her hair would be shorn and she’d be on her knees the rest o’ her days and kept far away from men. And he probably could have done that,” he assured her. “He was good friends with the king, and if the king specified a certain abbey . . .”

“Your father played hardball,” Beth said with approval.

“Aye.” He grinned. “So she agreed. The priest was called up, and me mother married me da just moments ere I came squalling into the world.”

“I bet ye were a beautiful baby,” Beth murmured, rubbing her fingers over his chest, and then she added, “And I bet you’ll give me beautiful babies.”

Hugging her tight, Scotty kissed the top of her head. “As many as ye wish and are allowed by law.”

Beth chuckled into his chest. “Very romantic, m’laird.”

“Hey, I’m the head o’ the UK Enforcers. I have to include that last part,” he said defensively.

“I suppose,” Beth relented and hugged him back, before asking, “So, what happened next?”

“Me father still feared she might do away with me, so took me away from her at once, and handed me over to a nursemaid who raised me fer the first five years o’ me life in a cottage on the estate.”

“Away from yer father?” Beth asked with a frown.

“He visited daily,” Scotty assured her. “And me nursemaid was a wonderful woman. She was his own nursemaid as a child. However, she was very old and died when I was five. My father then deemed me old enough fer it to be safe to allow me around me mother and brought me to the castle to live.”

“And your mother?” Beth asked, suspecting she already knew the answer. After all, there was a reason he hated his mother.

“She loathed me,” Scotty said solemnly. “And made no effort to hide it. Most o’ me childhood after five was spent being tortured by her. There were subtle little cruelties that me father would no’ notice, and then there were much larger cruelties when he was no’ around, after which I was threatened that if I told him she would cut me tongue out, scalp me or kill me father . . . and so me childhood went,” he said dryly.

“I’m sorry,” Beth murmured, hugging him and wishing she could take those memories, and the pain they must have caused, away. The thought made her blink in surprise as she understood what Scotty had been feeling, but then he started talking again, and she pushed the thought aside to listen.

“Despite having married me da, the woman had no’ given up her whoring ways. If she wanted something, or could gain something, she slept with whomever she thought could give it to her, or just anyone she wished. By that time me da would ha’e nothing to do with her and, I’m sure, sorely regretted marrying her. Although he would never admit it, at least no’ to me. To me he said that all the misery she caused him was worth it to get me.”

“I’m sure it was,” Beth said solemnly.

Scotty shrugged and continued, “Da died when I was eighteen. To this day I suspect she poisoned him. He was a strong, healthy man, and there were no signs o’ a weak heart before his attacked him. However, even if she did no’ poison him, she was the cause o’ his death. They were arguing, and she was spewing her venom all over him when he suddenly clutched his heart and fell over.”

Beth hugged him silently, knowing how the loss must have hurt him. Scotty hugged her back and kissed her forehead before continuing.

“O’ course, after having endured her viciousness and cruelties fer most o’ me life, I hated me mother. But the final straw was when she tried to convince me to buy her fine new silk fer the funeral, by offering to bed me,” he said with disgust.

“Her own son?” Beth asked aghast.

Scotty nodded, his mouth tight. “It was the only way she knew how to interact with a man, I suspect. But at the time I was so enraged . . .” He shook his head. “So the moment I was named clan leader, I made it clear to her that I would stand fer no more o’ her nonsense. That she would be a good woman, and comport herself as a lady, or she would be cast out.”

“And did she?” Beth asked. “Comport herself as a lady?”

“Fer two years,” Scotty said grimly. “She had no choice but to toe the line. Her beauty had begun to fade, and her lovers had grown sparse. If I had cast her out as I promised, she would have had nowhere to go, and no sweet lover to rescue her from penury and rough living.”

Beth nodded. “And what happened after two years?”

“She got wind o’ a man she thought might help her. He had a certain reputation fer getting rid o’ problems. And there were rumors that he had murdered a certain laird or two. So she sent a messenger to him with a parchment requesting his help. In it, she claimed I was cruel and abusive and so on and so forth. What she did no’ realize was that he was an immortal. No’ that she would’ve kenned what that was anyway, and she may not have even cared had she known. She probably would have tried to seduce him into making her one.”

Scotty paused and frowned over that possibility and then gave a shudder before hurrying on. “As I say, he was an immortal and read the messenger’s mind and knew there was something amiss. Apparently, all the messenger had on his mind was sex with me mother. His thoughts on me were respect and fear, but the fear made the immortal wonder, so he decided to find out what was what. Either he had a mother bent on filicide, or—”

“Excuse me?” Beth leaned up to stare at him with one eyebrow raised. “Filicide?”

“That’s what ’tis called when a parent kills their child, whether ’tis mother or father, killing son or daughter. It comes from filius, the Latin word for son.”

“Oh.” She nodded solemnly and then rolled her eyes and said, “Well, la-di-da! Aren’t we clever?”

“Aye. I learned Latin centuries ago,” Scotty said with a grin. “Jealous?”

Chuckling at his teasing, Beth kissed his chest and said, “Get on with it. What happened with the immortal?”

“Oh.” He paused a moment to shift his thoughts back to his story, and then said, “He let me mother believe that he would carry out her plan, and arranged to come to the castle. But he really intended to find out what was what. If I truly was a cruel, abusive bastard, he’d do as she requested. However, if she was bent on filicide,” Scotty said, emphasizing the word with a teasing grin, “then he would warn me so that she could no’ hire someone else to kill me once he refused the contract.”

“Hmm, a killer with a conscience,” Beth said with interest.

Scotty nodded. “So, he came to the castle while I was away for the day, and was seated at the table when I returned. Me mother, no’ kenning he’d already read her mind and had her number, introduced him as Lord Aequitas, just passing through, who would be staying the night, and—”

“Were ye angry?” Beth asked curiously. “Did ye suspect he was a lover or something and she was misbehaving?”

Scotty chuckled and shook his head. “He was only a couple years older than me. At least, he did no’ look much older than me, so I did no’ for a minute think he was interested in me old mother. And there was the whole hospitality thing, so I was no’ angry that he was there.”

“Oh,” she said, almost disappointed.

“Anyway, me mother introduced us and then just sat there grinning. I think she actually expected him to slay me right there in the Great Hall in front o’ one and all. Or perhaps she was just gleeful thinking I would soon be out o’ her hair.” Scotty shrugged. “Anyway, he did no’ slay me in the Great Hall, and after dinner, me mother suggested the three o’ us retire to the solar fer a drink. We did, but once there he turned to me and announced that me mother had hired him to kill me. He then handed me her letter with all its claims of abuse and such and crossed over to pour himself a drink.”

Scotty grimaced. “Me mother had a fit, asked him what he was doing and ordered him to get over there and kill me. At which point he informed her that he had no intention o’ killing me. In fact, he had come to warn me o’ her plans so I might safeguard meself in future. He then went on to say that she was a base whore, with no conscience, and not a speck o’ human warmth, while I was an honorable young man trying to do right by me people and, frankly, were he in the mood to kill anyone that night, which he wasn’t, it would be her and not me.” Scotty pursed his lips briefly, and then said, “Mother did no’ take disappointment well.”

“I suspected as much,” Beth said solemnly.

“She sort o’ grunted at the man with disgust, and then snapped, ‘Give me that letter’ and rushed toward me.” Scotty paused briefly and then said, “I truly thought she was coming to grab the letter . . . and she did. She took it with one hand as her other hand came up with a knife in it, and she stabbed me in the neck.”

Beth stiffened against him, a growl of fury sounding low in her throat. Scotty’s mother was as bad as, and perhaps worse than, her father had been. Truly it was a wonder she and Scotty had turned out as well as they had.

“It was a mortal wound,” Scotty said solemnly. “I would ha’e died, but the immortal, feeling responsible fer me situation, turned me. Although I did no’ ken that was what he was doing at the time. All I kenned was that I was bleeding out on the floor o’ me castle, and then he ripped into his own wrist, tore out a mouthful o’ flesh and pressed the gushing wound to me mouth. It felt to me as if I were drowning on the blood, and . . . well, after that things got hazy. But I do recall his telling me mother that he was making me immortal. She could never kill me. He told her that I would never age or die, while she would fade away to a toothless, wrinkled old crone and then molder in the grave.”

“Nice,” Beth said with satisfaction, quite sure Scotty’s mother would have been infuriated at that thought, but then tipped her head and asked with curiosity, “Who was this Lord Aequitas?”

“I do no’ ken,” Scotty admitted solemnly. “I never saw him again after that night.”

Beth’s eyebrows rose. That was bad. An immortal was never supposed to turn a mortal and leave them to their own devices, which made this guy a—“Rogue?”

Scotty considered her question with a frown, but then shook his head. “I do no’ ken. I’ve wondered that meself. Sometimes I think aye, and other times nay.”

“But he killed people, and he turned you and then left you alone. That’s—”

“He only killed people known to abuse and kill people under their power,” Scotty said solemnly. “I looked for him for a long time and learned that much about him.”

“Oh,” Beth breathed. That seemed kind of admirable. Lord Aequitas had been a sort of medieval character much like the Equalizer.

“And he did no’ leave me alone,” Scotty continued. “He did leave MacDonald, but he got a message to the closest immortal in the area, who happened to be Magnus Bjarnesen.”

Beth’s eyes widened incredulously. “Magnus? Did he know him? What was the message?”

“The message was that Laird MacDonald had been turned and needed assistance and training. Magnus headed for MacDonald at once to look into the situation. He found me and me mother, saw me mother buried and saw me through the turn, controlling me people as necessary to prevent interference. Once I was through the worst of it and able to talk, I learned he knew no Lord Aequitas, and he didn’t recognize me description of the man.” Scotty shrugged. “I never learned who Aequitas was, if that was even his real name.”

“Oh yes,” she murmured. The man probably hadn’t been using his real name, she thought, and then she glanced at Scotty sharply. “Wait, he saw your mother buried? What happened? How did she die?”

“Ah.” Scotty grimaced. “Well, when Aequitas said that bit about my living forever young, and her being an old crone and moldering in the grave, me mother was so enraged she attacked him. Of course, he just laughed and tossed her aside like a babe. He then repeated that there was no way she could murder me now, adding this time that once I had recovered, I would no doubt punish her properly fer trying to kill me and lock her in chains in the dungeon fer the rest o’ her days. Me mother attacked him again. At least, that is how it appeared. But the truth is, I believe she deliberately ran herself through with his sword when she charged him, that she knew exactly what she was doing, and chose death rather than allow me to seek justice.”

They were both silent for a moment, and then he peered down at her and said solemnly, “That is why I couldn’t believe that the nanos would think ye a perfect life mate fer me. I loathed me mother and thought ye a mirror image of her because o’ yer profession as a mortal. I was looking at the surface and no’ the heart,” he admitted apologetically. “And while this last time I suggested the mind wipe in the hopes o’ removing all those painful memories o’ yer past, I’m ashamed to admit that at first I thought perhaps if you were wiped to the stage of a tabula rasa, I could train you to become a better woman. But I was a fool. You are already a much better woman than me mother. And a much better person than me. I’m sorry, Beth, and I’ll spend me life making it up to ye, if ye give me the chance. Will ye be me life mate and give me that chance?”

Tears in her eyes, Beth swallowed and opened her mouth to respond, but then glanced to the door as a knock sounded.