Authors: Hannah Howell
A moment later, Cameron cursed and shook his head. Fool that he might be, he could not make himself believe all that. He did not doubt that if she reached her clansmen, she would do her best to ruin his plans concerning Katherine and Payton, but he could not really call that a betrayal. Avery had as much right to protect her brother as he did to protect his sister. In his heart, he knew she would do no more than try to keep Payton from entering into a marriage he did not want. After all, if Avery had wished to harm him or his people, she could simply have ridden away the day she discovered the DeVeaux’ plans to attack his camp.
The only thing that really mattered now, he told himself sternly, was finding Avery. At the moment none of the problems between them were of any importance. She was a tiny woman alone. Whether she had the sense to know it or not, the dangers she was courting were almost too numerous to count. He had to find her before something worse did.
It was nearly high noon before he finally found her, and by then he was so knotted up with fear for her, he did not know which he wanted to do more: kiss her or throttle her. As he topped a small hill, he saw her sit down on the bank of a creek. She tugged off her shoes and stockings and stuck her feet in the water. Her whole body reflected the relief she felt as the cool water bathed her feet.
Good
, he thought as he dismounted and secured his horse,
I hope she has blisters
. With as much silent caution as he would use to
approach the deadliest of enemies, he crept up behind her.
Avery carefully eased her aching feet into the water. They felt both startled and soothed by the chill. She had been walking for a long time, but she was still surprised at how badly her feet hurt. When she considered how far it was to Donncoill, she feared she would arrive there with no more than bloodied stumps where her feet used to be.
“Mayhap I should have taken one of his horses,” she muttered.
“Then I could have had ye hanged as a thief.”
It did not really surprise her to hear that deep, familiar voice right behind her. Avery decided that she had been expecting his arrival nearly every step of the way. Either that or she could simply sense when he was near. At that moment, she did not consider that a very good thing. She did not want to be so deeply bound to him.
“Ye couldnae trade my pale corpse for Payton,” she said without turning to look at him.
Cameron decided to ignore her petulant reply. He needed to give voice to some of the anger churning inside him. “Did ye e’en pause to think ere ye walked away from my bed?”
“Oh, is the poor mon nettled because he didnae have the chance to indulge in a morning rut?”
A soft screech of surprise escaped her when he suddenly grabbed her by one arm, yanked her to her feet, and tugged her around to face him. One look at his expression made it difficult to face him calmly. Cameron was furious.
“One: ye will ne’er again call what passes between us rutting.” And why he thought that was the most important command to give her, he did not know. The woman was making him insane. “Two: ye are ne’er to go off alone again.”
“I am nay going back with you.”
It was hard, but Cameron resisted the urge to shake some sense into her.
“If I have to tie ye up and toss ye o’er my saddle, ye are going with me.” He dragged his hands through his hair. “Ye are nay a stupid lass, but this? This is stupid. It could take ye a week, mayhap e’en a fortnight, to walk to Donncoill. Ye will be lucky to make it there alive. I doubt ye can make it there unharmed. Ye arenae that long cured of a fever, and Scotland’s weather can be most unkind. Ye didnae steal enough food to last ye for more than a day or two. There are wild animals to worry about, and I doubt every person ye may chance upon will be a kind, gentle soul. There is also the chance ye could injure yourself, and ye would have no one about to help you.”
“Enough,” she said quietly but firmly. “Ye need not beat me o’er the head with every danger existing in field and forest.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at her cooling feet. “I did, mayhap, nay consider everything as carefully as I should.”
There was no sense in trying to explain her actions. Even if she bared her heart and soul, Avery doubted Cameron would understand what had made her flee his side. If he did not feel what she did, he could not understand how his actions could hurt her, or how desperately she wanted to avoid that pain. It had been foolish to flee into the night, to even attempt such a journey alone and unprotected, but even if she had considered all the dangers, she was not sure that would have stopped her.
“My feet are all dirty now,” she muttered.
Cameron almost laughed despite the strange ache in his heart. Avery looked an odd
mixture of sad and cross. Although he shied away from considering just how deep her feelings for him went, he knew he was hurting her. He did not really want to hurt her.
The lingering cynic within him tried to mock him. After all, he had not asked any more of Avery than her passion. He had certainly never promised her any more than that. If she had let her heart lead her into deeper waters, it was her own fault.
He sighed and urged her to sit back down on the grassy bank while he bathed her feet with his own hands. It was true that he had not asked her for any more than passion, but he was beginning to believe he was being given more—a great deal more. Cameron wished he could make it easier for her, but he was bound by family duty and honor to continue with his plans. He also knew he was a selfish bastard, that he would greedily accept all she had to give right up until he had to send her away.
After he dried her feet with the edge of his cloak, he took it off and spread it on the ground. Their gazes locked, but she made no protest as he relieved them both of their clothes. He made love to her slowly, gently, cherishing every little sigh and gasp. When he joined their bodies, he paused to stare down at her. He wanted to hold fast to the feel of her tight heat surrounding him, to the look of passion on her face.
“Ye willnae be sad,” he said as he began to thrust into her.
“Is that command number three?” she asked as she wrapped her legs and arms around him.
“Aye. Ye will nay let me make ye sad.”
She threaded her fingers into his thick hair and tugged his face down to hers. “As ye will, my dark-as-sin chevalier. When we can share such delight, how can I be sad?” she whispered, and she kissed him, freeing herself to soar to passion’s heights along with him.
The moment the lingering heat of desire left her, Avery felt her sadness return, but she fought to hide it as she and Cameron got dressed. It served no purpose except to dim what they could share in the little time they had left together. Cameron had obviously guessed that she felt more for him than passion. That he was concerned about making her sad and did not wish to hurt her revealed that he was not without some feeling for her. It would not change things, but she would try to find some comfort in the knowledge.
Cameron led her to his horse and set her on it. He kissed her thigh before tugging her skirts down, then mounted behind her. He then nudged his horse in the direction of Cairnmoor. When Avery snuggled back against him, he smiled faintly and kissed the top of her head. Cameron dearly hoped that she was as resigned to her fate as she seemed to be.
“I will understand if ye feel ye cannae share my bed again,” he felt compelled to say, though he knew it was a lie.
Avery snorted softly as she closed her eyes. She could hear his reluctance to make that concession behind every word he spoke, but she had to respect him for even making it. He realized that things had gone too far, had gotten too complicated, and he was trying to set things right. Ending their affair now would change nothing, however. It would only mean that, when she had to leave, she would be not only heartbroken, but filled with regret for every lost chance to spend that one more night in his arms.
“One cannae go back, Cameron.”
“Nay, I suspect not.” He sighed, relieved that she would remain his lover, yet saddened over the thought that it would probably cost her dearly in lost pride and added
pain. “I would change things if I could, but I must do as honor and duty command.”
She did not reply but only nodded, and Cameron fancied he could almost feel her disappointment. Or perhaps what he was feeling was his own.
Cairnmoor was huge. Avery stared at it and barely kept herself from gaping as they rode up to it. It seemed to rise up out of the very rock it was built upon. A small loch bordered it on one side and a wide moat, drawing its water from the loch, encircled the other three sides. It was as dark and forbidding as its laird. Even if her family got the mad idea of trying to fight to free her and Gillyanne, one look at this place would bring them to their senses.
Her attention was drawn from the keep by the sounds of the hearty greetings that assailed Cameron and his group as they rode toward the keep. It was evident that the people of Cairnmoor had no fear of being ruled over by such a dark knight. They obviously saw only a laird with the strength to protect them well and—for she carefully studied the clothes and the appearance of the people she saw—with enough coin to keep them well fed and warmly dressed.
When they reached the inner bailey and Cameron helped her dismount, Avery found herself pushed aside as his people hurried up to greet him. She felt a little less alone and ignored when Gillyanne reached her side to take her hand in hers. Although she was happy for those who were so joyfully reunited, Avery suddenly ached to see her own family. The sheen of tears in Gillyanne’s eyes told her that her cousin felt the same. Even the thought that seeing her family would mean losing Cameron could not fully banish the longing she suddenly felt.
A tall, elegant gentleman approached Cameron, smiling widely. The touch of grey in his black hair and the lines upon his face were nearly all that kept him from looking exactly like Cameron. Avery was not really surprised when Cameron greeted the man as his cousin Iain. She tensed slightly when Cameron brought the man over to meet her and Gillyanne. There was no telling how those at Cairnmoor felt about the things of which her brother had been accused.
“Ah, have ye finally taken yourself a wife, lad?” Iain asked as he kissed first Avery’s hand, then Gillyanne’s.
Cameron felt himself blush, and after glaring at Avery and Gillyanne in a vain attempt to banish their identical smirks, he said, “Cousin Iain, may I introduce Lady Avery Murray and her cousin, Lady Gillyanne. Ladies, my cousin, Sir Iain MacAlpin.”
“Murray?” Iain frowned at them, but Avery saw no anger in his look. “As in Sir Payton Murray?”
“Aye,” replied Cameron “Avery is his sister.”
“Ah. I think there is a tale I need to hear, and Katherine will be eager to see you, Cameron. Do ye ladies wish to be shown to your rooms now, mayhap have some hot water brought to you?” Iain asked.
“Nay, thank ye kindly, sir,” replied Avery, “but we all stopped not a half hour’s ride from here to tidy ourselves up. I think everyone wished to be looking their best when they were reunited with their kinsmen.” When the man just nodded, she and Gillyanne followed him, Cameron, and Leargan into the keep.
“This place is huge,” whispered Gillyanne. “’Tis clear that this branch of the MacAlpin clan kens how to make a coin or two.”
Upon entering the great hall and seeing all the rich tapestries on the wall, Avery had to agree. They were seated at the head table on Cameron’s left, opposite Iain and Leargan. Avery helped herself to the bounty of bread, cheese, fruit, and cold meats that
were set out as Cameron told Iain her tale. A few of the more personal parts were excluded, but the intent look upon the older man’s face told her he had probably begun to guess what he was not being told.
Just as Iain seemed ready to ask her a question or two, there was a soft gasp at the door, which drew everyone’s attention. Cameron murmured, “Katherine,” and Avery knew she was about to meet the woman who was trying to entrap Payton. Avery studied the young woman who gracefully hurried to Cameron’s side and, when he stood, flung herself into his arms.
Katherine was tall and fulsome and had the same rich, black hair that Cameron did. Her skin was the flawless ivory that poets rambled on about, and Avery noticed when the woman glanced her way several times, her eyes were a lovely deep blue. What troubled Avery was that within those glances there had been the expected curiosity, but there had also been the gleam of calculation. Worse, try as she might to accept Katherine’s effusive greeting as one of honest sisterly affection, Avery could not suppress the sense that it was all for show. A quick glance at Gillyanne’s still, watchful expression did not ease Avery’s suspicions.
“Come, sister, join us at table,” Cameron said, wondering why Katherine’s loving greeting had not warmed him very much.
“But that woman is sitting in my chair,” Katherine protested, pointing at Avery.
“Katherine,” Cameron said, a little surprised at what sounded a bit too much like petulant rudeness, “ye can sit next to Leargan.”
“I can move,” offered Gillyanne. “I think I have the strength left to move down a seat despite the long journey I have endured. Then Avery can shift her weary body down one, too. And then Lady Katherine will be able to put her bonny ar—”
“Gillyanne,” Cameron snapped, and then he sent a brief, repressive look at Leargan and Iain, who both looked close to laughing aloud. “Katherine will sit next to Leargan.” He nudged his sister toward the seat. “’Tis nay so far away that it will impede conversation.”
“Thank God he didnae tell her to sit next to me,” Gillyanne muttered.
“Did ye have something to say, Gilly?” asked Cameron, his eyes narrowed in a look of sharp rebuke.
Quickly shoving a slice of apple into her cousin’s mouth, Avery replied, “Nay. Gillyanne was just complimenting the food.” Avery wished the table were not so wide, for she badly wanted to kick Leargan to get him to stop grinning.
“Just who are these women, Cameron?” demanded Katherine as she sat down next to Leargan and glared at Gillyanne.
Cameron introduced the women to each other. The way Avery and Gillyanne nodded curtly at Katherine, and Katherine did the same back to them, made Cameron sigh. The battle lines had clearly been drawn. Although he and Avery no longer spoke of the accusations against her brother, it was obvious that both Murrays were still certain that Katherine was lying.
He studied the cool, smug look on Katherine’s face and realized he did not feel the same great confidence in her that the Murray lasses obviously felt in Payton. His sister was a complete stranger to him, a young beautiful woman whom he did not know at all. That made him feel both sad and guilty. If they were strangers, it was his fault, Cameron decided. When he had been at Cairnmoor he had been too busy to have much to do with
her, and then he had fled to France, leaving her in the care of others. Now that he was home, perhaps he could mend that and build the sort of relationship siblings should have.
“Are they related to my Payton, then?” Katherine asked, although her tone implied she already knew the answer to that question.
“Aye. Avery is his sister,” Cameron replied.
“Really?”
It was only one word, but its tone and the look upon Katherine’s face told Avery what was not being said, just thought. How could such a skinny, odd-looking female be related to the beautiful Sir Payton? The way Cameron was frowning at his sister made Avery wonder if he was hearing the same hidden message that she was.
“Aye.” Cameron watched Katherine very closely as he asked, “Are ye still claiming that Sir Payton Murray seduced you?”
Katherine stared back at Cameron, one dark brow raised. “I believe the word I used was rape.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Cameron saw Avery clamp a hand on Gillyanne’s shoulder to hold the girl in her seat. “’Tis a harsh accusation to fling at a mon’s head, lass. Are ye sure?”
After holding her brother’s gaze for a moment, Katherine turned away and heaved a shuddering sigh. She tugged a fine lace-trimmed linen cloth from her pocket and dabbed at her suddenly moist eyes. Then she looked at Cameron again from beneath partially lowered lashes, her full mouth trembling ever so faintly.
“I may have misnamed the crime,” she said in a weak, unsteady voice. “In my despair o’er being so callously used and cast aside, I may have struck out blindly, wishing to hurt him as he so deeply hurt me.”
A gagging noise sounded on Cameron’s left, but by the time he looked at the Murrays, Avery was gently patting Gillyanne on the back and the younger girl was dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. Both looked suspiciously innocent. “Something wrong?”
“Gilly just got a wee piece of apple stuck in her throat,” Avery replied.
Turning back to his sister, Cameron said, “I am sorry for your pain, Katherine.”
“’Tis nay your fault,” Katherine replied. “I had hoped to overcome my shame and hurt, but”—she smoothed her skirts over her belly, revealing an unmistakable roundness—“I fear my perfidious lover has left me with child.”
“Curse it,” Gillyanne whispered as Katherine sniffled into her linen square, “that looks real.”
“Aye,” agreed Avery in as soft a voice, “but we both ken it isnae Payton’s. He would ne’er disclaim his own child, which means he refuses her because he is absolutely certain that bairn cannae be his.”
“So, the question which needs answering is, just whose can it be?”
“First we must try to discover how far along she is, then when she was at court.”
“And, if it appears that she got with child while she was at court?”
“Then we need to try to discover who she saw whilst there. We can only hope Katherine isnae the sort who inspires undying loyalty in her servants, for they may weel hold the answers we need.”
“Ladies?” Cameron called, ending their whispered conference. “Is something troubling you?”
Realizing that Katherine had ceased sniffing out her tale of betrayal and heartbreak, Avery looked at Cameron and shook her head. “Nay. Gillyanne and I but shared a moment of understanding and commiseration o’er the sad plight of women used and cast aside by their lovers.”
To his dismay, Cameron felt himself blush, then glared at Gillyanne, who looked far too amused by his discomfort. “Ye will nay suffer from this folly,” he said to Katherine, then signaled to a page. “Bring me quill and paper,” he ordered the boy. “I shall write to Sir Payton.”
“That is so good of you, Cameron,” said Katherine, “but it willnae matter. He has coldly refused all of our entreaties.”
“Aye, but ye had naught to hold out as a lure aside from your love and your beauty, which he has proven foolish enough to refuse.” Cameron was sure he heard Avery muttering something about wasting his flattery on the vain, but he decided to ignore it. He picked up the quill when the page set the writing materials in front of him. “I wish it could be otherwise for ye, Katherine, but I do have the means to force your lover to do as honor demands.” He winced when Avery and Gillyanne stood up so abruptly that their chairs banged against the floor, and he knew he had just been unwittingly unkind. “Avery?”
“I believe I should like to be shown to my quarters now,” Avery said, her gaze fixed upon Iain.
Cameron grasped her hand. “Ye kenned I was going to do this, that I have to do this.”
“Aye.” She snatched her hand away. “I kenned it, but I ne’er expected ye to make me watch it.” She looked back at Iain. “My room?”
“Place her in my mother’s chambers,” Cameron softly told Iain, “and wee Gilly in the room next to that.” He watched Iain lead Avery away, then looked up to find Gillyanne glaring at him. “Gilly?”
“I hope ye put your eye out with that quill,” Gillyanne snapped.
“Gilly,” Avery called, pausing in the doorway to frown back at her cousin. “What were ye doing?” she asked as Gillyanne hurried to her side.
“I was but thanking Sir Cameron for the fine meal,” Gillyanne replied.
As soon as the door shut behind Iain and the Murrays, Cameron relaxed, only to then glare at Leargan, who laughed softly. “Ye find something about this amusing?”
Leargan touched the missive Cameron was about to compose. “About this? Nay, naught at all. But Gilly? Aye. She is an endearing wee brat. If I wasnae already more than twice her age, I might be tempted to wait until she finished growing and marry the girl.”
“But Leargan, her eyes dinnae match,” said Katherine, obviously shocked. “And her hair is so untidy.”
“Katherine, perfection isnae always as beautiful as uniqueness!” Leargan spoke, as if trying to teach something to a particularly slow-witted child; then he shook his head when she just continued to look at him as if he were the witless one. “Cameron, do ye ask for your son as weel?” he asked as he turned away from Katherine.
“What son?” demanded Katherine. “Dinnae say that skinny whore claims she gave ye a child?”
“Ye insult Lady Avery,” Cameron snapped, his voice hard and cold.
“Do I? Have ye placed her in the room which adjoins yours so that ye may guard
her more closely, then?” Katherine suddenly gasped and placed her hand upon her chest. “Oh, brother, ye do this for me? As I have been used and shamed, so shall she be. ’Tis a great sacrifice ye make for me.”
Although he told himself that Katherine had a right to feel no kindness toward a Murray, the excuse did not cool Cameron’s fury over her words much at all. “What does or doesnae happen between Lady Avery and myself has naught to do with ye, Katherine. ’Tis nay your business, and I would be verra displeased if ye tried to make it anyone else’s.” He held her angry gaze until she gave him a curt nod of agreement; then, in what he hoped was a calmer tone, he explained, “The boy Leargan refers to is a bastard child born of a woman I kept as a mistress about three years ago. In one of those odd twists of fate, Avery’s cousin Elspeth and her husband, Sir Cormac Armstrong, found the child abandoned and took him in.”
“Weel, I suppose that was kind of them. It relieves ye of that burden. Aye, ye should express some thanks, I suppose.”
Cameron stared at her, blinked slowly, then looked at Leargan. He was relieved to see that his cousin was looking as dumb-struck as he himself felt. It was impossible to know what he should conclude from his sister’s surprisingly callous attitude toward his son. Illegitimate the boy might be, but he was of her blood—her own nephew. Cameron decided it was best to concentrate on an answer for Leargan and the wording of his message to Sir Payton Murray.