Highland Knight (12 page)

“After all, she might still set out to kill the mon.”

“Are ye calmer now, lass?” Anne asked as she helped a now well scrubbed Avery don her clean clothes.

“A wee bit,” Avery replied. “I still want to kill that bastard, but the madness is gone.” She managed a faint smile for Gillyanne, who began to brush out her still-damp hair. “And, I will have to make Leargan suffer just a wee bit for hitting me.”

“Wince a little and touch your poor battered jaw now and then, and ye will have the poor lad on his hands and knees begging for your forgiveness.”

Avery laughed softly. “I am nay sure I wish to torment him that much.” She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I thought bathing would banish the feel of his hands, but I swear I can still feel the coldness of them.”

“Ah, poor wee lass.” Anne gave her a brief hug. “He didnae get inside of ye. Find some comfort in that.”

“Aye, I will. Jesu, but his touch was so cold, I cannae help but wonder if he would have frozen my innards had he raped me.”

“Now there is a thought that ye most certainly must push right out of your head,” Gillyanne murmured as she finished braiding Avery’s hair. She scowled toward the wood. “Why is that fool Wee Rob marching about o’er there?”

“I suspect he has been set to keep a watch o’er me,” Avery replied.

“Cameron cannae think ye would try to escape after all that has happened tonight.”

“Nay, but I suspect he fears I may pick up a sword and race back toward the DeVeau camp screaming for blood.” She linked arms with Anne and Gillyanne, glad of their silent comfort. “I had best get back to Cameron and let him ken that I have come to my senses. I ken now that, if I had killed that bastard, the woods and roads of France would have soon teemed with DeVeaux seeking vengeance, or their hirelings seeking rewards. ’Tis what happened to my poor mother and she was innocent.”

Gillyanne nodded, then added softly, “And, mayhap, if ye let Cameron hold ye, he can take some of the coldness away.”

“Aye, mayhap he can. Might as weel get some use out of the big oaf.” She laughed along with her companions.

It was several minutes after she had entered Cameron’s tent and was preparing for bed that Avery became aware of how closely he was watching her. Stripped to her chemise, she turned to look at him. He was sprawled on his side on the bed, beautifully, unabashedly naked. She was glad he had not changed his manner around her simply because of what had happened to her. Somehow, that helped to lessen the importance of Sir Charles’s actions.

“If ye wait for me to begin foaming at the mouth, grab a sword, and run off into the night, ye will have a verra long wait,” she said as she settled down on the furs by his side.

“It might have been vastly entertaining,” he drawled.

“Only if I was naked and painted blue like our ancestors.” When he said nothing, she looked up to catch him leaning over her and grinning. “Ye find that amusing?”

“Actually, I was trying to think of a private place we could sneak away to and just where I might be able to find some blue paint.”

“Lecherous rogue,” she muttered, but with no condemnation in her voice, and she sighed with a mixture of pleasure and relief when he tugged her into his arms.

“What did that bastard do to ye, Avery?” he asked quietly.

“Ye mean aside from tying me to the bed, cutting up my clothes, and threatening to put his bastard in me?”

“Aye, aside from that, although that alone makes me eager to cut his heart out.”

“Only if ye let me help.” She idly stroked his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin. “He touched me a little. ’Twas the way he did it and what he said that drove me near mad. He was cold, empty, and his words were as cold as his touch.” She stared fixedly at Cameron’s chest as she repeated the things Sir Charles had said.’ “I dinnae think I e’er fully understood what madness my mother had to deal with until now.”

“She is obviously a brave and resourceful woman.” Cameron said, fighting to subdue the rage he felt over all she had told him.

Avery kissed his chest and felt his immediate response, yet he was obviously holding himself in tight control. She could not allow that, although she appreciated his consideration for her sensibilities. What she needed now, however, was his passion, his warmth. She needed him to make love to her to banish fully the ghosts of Sir Charles’s touch. She wanted her last memory of the day to be of the heated delight she could find in his arms.

“Are ye nay going to kiss me good night?” she asked, rubbing her foot up and down his calf.

“Ah, my wee cat, if I kiss you, I willnae be stopping there. Now that I ken the fullness of your passion, ’tis nay easy to resist the allure of it.”

She slid her arms around his neck and tugged him closer until she could brush her lips over his. “Banish the cold, Cameron.”

He studied her face for a moment, then kissed her. Avery gave herself over completely to his lovemaking. She greedily accepted every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips, soaking up the warmth of the desire they shared. She clung to him as he possessed her, urging him on as they sought the heights together. Avery continued to
cling to him as they both struggled to recover from the ferocity of their releases. When Cameron finally flopped onto his back, she did not wait for him to pull her close, but curled her body around his. In his arms, she felt not only warm again, but safe.

“Did that help, lass?” he asked, touching a kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, aye. Ye did indeed banish the cold.” She tried to smother a yawn behind her hand.

“Get some rest, loving. Dawn isnae so verra far away.”

“Ye think we will need to race to the port? That he will give chase?” When he hesitated to reply, she said, “Nay, dinnae try to think of a comforting lie. He will, if only because he thinks he can use me to gain hold of some of the property and wealth my mother gained from her first marriage.”

“Aye, there is that. Dinnae worry, lass. I willnae let the bastard get you.”

Avery thought it a little odd that a man who wished to use her for ransom would risk so much to save her from another man who wished to ransom her, but she decided not to point that out. Cameron was not acting out of greed. Nor would he ever hurt her—not purposely or physically. Cameron might break her heart, she mused, but Sir Charles DeVeau could easily destroy her very soul.

“We are even now,” Cameron murmured.

“Even?” she asked.

“Aye. Ye saved our lives and we just saved yours. The debt is cleared. Now everything is back to the way it was.”

Avery decided she was simply too tired to hit him.

As they approached the river they needed to cross, Avery began to feel uneasy. She looked all around but could see no sign of danger. None of the men acted as if they had seen anything, either. Yet the sense of something wrong did not fade.

“Something troubling ye, Avery?”

Avery glanced back at her cousin, who sat behind her. She had been surprised when Cameron had set them both on the same horse, but had quickly noticed how his men had nearly encircled her and Gillyanne as they rode. It was not a guard set out to stop her and Gillyanne from trying to escape, but one to protect them from the DeVeaux, so she found it easy to tolerate. It was certainly the most efficient way to keep her and Gillyanne safe. Cameron had quickly guessed that Gillyanne could well be in as much danger as she was, for Sir Charles knew that her young cousin was with her.

“The river seems a wee bit full and fast,” Avery replied, studying the rapidly flowing water as they drew nearer to its banks.

“Aye, but ’tis still crossable, I think.”

“Most like, if only at this fording point. I just feel, weel, nervous.” She looked around again, still seeing no threat.

“The DeVeaux are still far behind us. And, unless they ken a faster way to reach the port, they will stay far behind.”

“Ye are probably right. ’Tis but the fleeing from them for three long days that has wearied me, made me prone to seeing shadows where there are none. And we do approach Scotland much faster than we might have if the DeVeaux werenae chasing us. Scotland, then Cairnmoor, and then the results of this huge gamble I have taken.”

“Ah, aye. Ye are losing time in which ye could make yourself important to that dark laird. I dinnae think ye are unimportant. He rescued ye from Sir Charles and now works verra hard to keep ye safe.”

“He needs me—us—to get Payton to many his sister.”

“Aye, but I think ’tis far more than that which drives him.”

Avery sighed. “So do I, at times. Yet it isnae what ye and I think which matters, but what Cameron believes.”

Gillyanne nodded against Avery’s back. “Men think differently than women do, ’tis certain. Weel, that doesnae mean that he willnae come to his senses, at least ere it is too late to mend things. Sometimes a mon has to think he has lost something ere he realizes just how much he values it.”

“I fear that if Cameron senses that he values me in any way, he will push me e’en further away from him. I begin to think I have chosen a mon who guards his heart as fiercely as he now guards us.”

“No one can completely guard his heart.”

“Weel, no sense in worrying about it all now.” Avery frowned as they all gathered at the river’s edge and prepared to cross it. “A bridge would have been nice.”

“The river truly bothers ye, doesnae it.”

“I dinnae ken if ’tis the river or the crossing of it, but I cannae shake free of this deepening unease I feel.” Avery frowned as she watched Donald scramble onto the back of the cart holding some of their belongings. She turned to Cameron, who had just reined in at her side. “Mayhap young Donald should ride across on a horse.”

“The lad will be fine, Avery,” Cameron assured her, somewhat touched that she
should show such concern over the safety of his squire. “There is a lot he can hang onto in the cart.”

“Aye, that is true enough,” she agreed, yet she found herself tensing as the cart entered the water with Wee Rob struggling to control the nervous horse.

Avery turned to speak to Cameron again only to discover him gone. She silently cursed, then looked back at the river. She had just begun to convince herself she was being foolish and had nudged her mount forward to join the others crossing the river, when she looked at the baggage cart one more time. Her heart leaped into her throat as she watched the cart suddenly tip precariously to one side. Avery suspected the back right wheel had sunk into a hole. The jolt was hard enough to send a screaming Donald into the river, where the swift current was dragging him rapidly downstream.

No one leaped in after the boy, which told Avery that there were no swimmers among the MacAlpins. A few men tried to ride through the water to reach the boy, but the depth of the river beyond the fording place made the horses useless. Two men nearly joined the flailing boy before they could get their mounts back on a surer footing. Avery cursed again and nudged her mount into the water.

“Grab the reins,” Avery ordered Gillyanne as she yanked off her boots and tossed aside her heavy cloak.

Cameron was quickly making his way toward her. Avery knew he was going to try to stop her, just as she knew she was probably the only one who could save poor Donald. Moving so that she sat sideways in the saddle, Avery hastily pulled her skirts up between her legs and secured them at her waist. Cameron was just reaching out for her when she leaped into the cold water and began to swim toward Donald.

“Colin, get everyone across,” bellowed Cameron as he urged his horse back onto the bank. “Leargan, with me. That fool lass is going to get herself killed,” he muttered as he rode along the bank, keeping Avery and Donald in sight.

“Avery can swim verra weel,” cried Gillyanne as she, too, followed Cameron.

Cursing when he saw the girl close behind him instead of crossing the river with the others as she should, Cameron yelled back, “Aye, I can see that. But, how weel can she swim trying to hold onto a terrified boy who is bigger than she is?” Cameron was not really pleased with the fact that Gillyanne had no answer for him.

It was not easy, but Avery ignored the biting cold of the water even though it felt as if it were seeping into the very marrow of her bones. Her clothes were heavy enough to sap her strength faster than was probably safe. Avery kept her gaze fixed firmly upon Donald as she swam. He was just ahead of her, flailing wildly, yet that seemed to be helping him to keep his head above the water most of the time and to slow his rapid progress down the river. When his gaze met hers, Avery knew he saw her and recognized her, yet his expression was still one of intense fear. Avery cautiously approached the boy, knowing how easy it would be for such a terrified person to become a serious threat to the very one trying to save him.

“Donald,” she called to him, staying just out of reach until she was certain he would let her help him.

“Avery, I dinnae want to drown,” he gasped; then he coughed violently as water splashed into his mouth.

“Ye willnae drown if ye do everything I tell ye to. Can ye do that, Donald?”

“Aye.”

“Easy now, I am swimming closer and ye dinnae want to hit me by mistake, do ye?”

“Nay. ’Tis cold, Avery.”

“Oh, aye. ’Tis that, right enough.”

She swam up behind him and quickly put her arm under his and around his chest. “Lie back, Donald. Calm, now.” She was a little surprised at how quickly he obeyed, seemingly putting his complete trust in her. “Gently kick your legs. That is the way. A wee bit more gently. Aye, aye.” She caught sight of a knot of branches caught against some rocks in the heart of the river. “Now, ye will feel my body coming up beneath yours. Very slowly, keep kicking those legs.” Despite how well he was taking her commands, she knew she could not go very far while holding him since she was doing most of the swimming for both of them. “We are going to swim o’er to those branches right o’er there.”

“Shouldnae we go to the bank?” he asked.

“These are closer and we can hold onto them until someone can get a rope out to us. Ye are a wee bit bigger than me, Donald, and though I can keep us above the water, I cannae drag ye too far.”

“I can see the laird,” he stuttered.

“Good. He will soon toss us a rope.”

Once they reached the small dam of wood, Avery made sure Donald was holding onto it tightly before she let him go. Wondering if her teeth were chattering as loudly as his were, she then clung to the wood herself and looked toward the bank. To her great relief she saw Cameron, Leargan, and Gillyanne there. Cameron held a stout rope in his hands.

“I will grab the rope when ’tis thrown to us,” Avery told Donald. “Dinnae ye let go of this wood, e’en if it starts to shake free and float away. Dinnae fear. We will chase ye down and a stout piece of wood will keep ye afloat until we do.”

“But ye may need my help to tie the rope round yourself,” Donald protested.

“Ye will go first. Nay, dinnae argue,” she said when he began to stutter out a
nay
. “I can swim, Donald. Ye cannae. So ye will be pulled to safety first.”

It took two tries before Avery caught the rope Cameron threw out to her. The rock he had tied to the end to weight it caught her hard against the shoulder. It would undoubtedly leave a colorful bruise, although she suspected she already had far too many for one more to be noticed.

“While I tie this rope round your chest, I want ye to take deep breaths, then let them out slowly,” she advised Donald as she began to secure the rope around him, praying her cold fingers could make the knots tight enough to hold firm. “Now when I cry ‘ready,’ ye take as deep a breath as ye can and hold it tight. ’Twill be a rough ride to the shore, but a quick one, and holding that breath will help ye. Understand?”

“Aye, m’lady,” he whispered.

“And try to flop onto your back when ye feel the first tug upon the rope. ’Twill make the ride easier for you if ye can. Ready!”

Avery was pleased to hear Donald take a huge breath even as he was yanked away from the branches. The youth’s ride to the bank was indeed impressively fast and, she was certain, a little terrifying. She flexed her fingers, concerned over how stiff with cold they had become, and waited for the next toss of the rope. When her rapidly numbing
fingers refused to grasp the rope tight enough to keep hold of it, Avery felt her concern swiftly turn to fear.

“She cannae hold the rope,” Gillyanne said, yanking off her boots.

“This next time—” began Cameron, his eyes widening slightly when Gillyanne began to take off her gown.

“Her hands will be e’en colder by then, e’en more clumsy.”

“Lass, ye cannae mean to go in after her.”

“’Tis exactly what I mean to do,” Gillyanne snapped as she finished stripping to her chemise. “Is there enough of that rope to tie it round me yet leave a length free that I may use it to tie Avery to me?”

“I cannae let ye do this.”

“Ye have to. Neither of ye can swim, and if Avery’s hands are too cold now to hold the rope, in a verra short time they will be too cold to hold firm to that branch she is clinging to.”

Muttering curses over his lack of choices or the time to come up with another plan, Cameron tied the rope around Gillyanne’s tiny waist, leaving her what he felt was plenty of rope for her to lash Avery to her. “If I e’en think ye might be in danger, I will yank ye back in.”

“Fair enough,” Gillyanne said, and she dove gracefully into the water.

“Jesu,” muttered Leargan as he wrapped a blanket around a violently shivering Donald. “I guess we can add swimming to the lengthy list of odd skills those Murray lasses have.” He shook his head as he watched Gillyanne race toward Avery, cutting through the rough waters with clean, strong strokes. “Mayhap one or two of us should try to learn.”

Cameron just nodded, his gaze fixed upon Avery and his hands tight upon the rope. He understood what had made Avery go after Donald, was pleased that the youth had not drowned, and could even deeply respect the bravery displayed by both of the Murray lasses. However, if Avery survived this, Cameron decided that he would throttle her.

“Gilly?” Avery whispered as her cousin swam up beside her. “Ye shouldnae be taking such risks.”

Securing the rope around Avery’s waist, Gillyanne just shook her head. “Neither should you.”

“The water proved colder than I thought it would be.”

“’Tis probably being fed by melting snows, ye great fool. Ready?” Gillyanne asked after rechecking the knot she had just made.

“Aye.”

Avery had barely enough time to take a deep breath before Gillyanne signaled Cameron. The next she knew, she was on her back in Gillyanne’s thin arms and both of them were being pulled toward the bank at an alarming speed. When they hit the bank, she released with a grunt the breath she had been holding.

Nothing was said as she and Gillyanne were yanked from the water and wrapped up in blankets. Despite the cold and utter exhaustion afflicting her, Avery could feel the anger in Cameron as he held her in his arms while they rode to join the others. He ought to be thanking her for saving Donald’s life, she thought crossly; then she decided she was more concerned with getting warm and dry than with understanding his moodiness. If he was going to yell at her, he could wait until she had rested a little.

She was more asleep than awake when she was handed over into Anne’s care. Anne and the other women worked fast to get her and Gillyanne dry and dressed in warm clothes. A still silent Cameron set her in his baggage cart next to Gillyanne and covered them both with one of his heavy furs. Avery could hear Donald talking and decided the youth would be fine, that he was obviously a lot stronger than he looked.

“I dinnae need to rest,” protested Gillyanne as Cameron tucked her in.

“Ye are there to help your fool cousin get warm again,” Cameron snapped.

Avery managed to open her eyes enough to see Gillyanne make a face at the departing Cameron’s back and she almost smiled. “I do feel a wee bit cold, Gillyanne.”

Gillyanne turned onto her side, her back to Avery, and said, “Then curl your skinny self round me. ’Twill help. That ill-tempered lout ye fancy is right about that. Ye dinnae feel verra cold,” she murmured as Avery held her close.

“Inside I do. I think Anne rubbed the outside of me so hard, ’tis a miracle I wasnae set alight.”

“She said she wanted to get your blood flowing again.”

“Oh. Weel, ’tis flowing, but it, and my verra bones, feel chilled. Donald sounded recovered, though.”

“Aye. I think some people arenae as troubled by the cold as others. Or, he was thrashing about so furiously, he kept himself warm enough.”

Even though Avery was feeling a little warmer, she still felt completely exhausted and knew she would soon be asleep. “I wonder why Cameron is so angry.”