"'Tis going to hurt,” Avery whispered.
"Oh, aye, I suspect it will,” agreed Gillyanne, and she lightly squeezed Avery's hand in sympathy. “Just keep telling yourself that for all the hurt ye may suffer, ye may also end up with all the glory our parents have. That is what I intend to have."
"Ye deserve nay less. I just pray ye dinnae have quite so much trouble gaining the prize."
"Ah, but how often does the greatest of prizes come easily?"
"What do ye think they are plotting up there?” Cameron asked Leargan as he watched Avery and Gillyanne standing on the hill.
"Finding a verra big rock and rolling it down on you?” Leargan replied. He met Cameron's disgusted look with a grin.
"Ye have been in irritatingly high spirits since we docked yesterday."
"I hadnae realized how much I missed this land. The heather, the hills, the rocks."
"The thistles, the cold, the rain."
Leargan laughed and shook his head. “Come, admit it. Ye are glad to be back. Ye missed it, too."
Cameron smiled faintly. “Aye, I did. It will be good to see Cairnmoor again.” He frowned at Avery and her cousin again, knowing there would be at least one shadow on the joy of his homecoming.
"I really dinnae think they are plotting anything, Cameron. Mayhap they have just missed Scotland, too."
"And mayhap they are trying to decide in which direction lies Donncoill or the keep of any of their vast multitude of relations."
"Worried that your plans could pull us into a war?"
"Nay as long as I have the two lasses to trade for the lad. And I am nay threatening the lad's life, just making him marry Katherine."
"To some lads that may look to be the worse of the two fates. Just marriage,” Leargan added hastily, “nay marriage to Katherine specifically."
"True.” Cameron shrugged. “I cannae see the Murrays and their various kinsmen shedding blood o'er the matter."
"Nay, probably not. Ye do ken that, although ye can force the marriage, ye cannae make it a good one."
"I ken it. Yet there must have been some spark between them if they were lovers.” He grimaced. “And surely the verra bonny, verra good, much-adored Sir Payton Murray could be nay other than a verra perfect husband."
Leargan laughed. “Ye sound almost jealous, cousin."
"Perfection can be verra irritating."
"Just how old is this oh-so-bonny-and-perfect knight?"
Cameron frowned. “I dinnae ken. I believe he has been a knight for several years, so he must be near our age."
"He could have gained his spurs at a particularly young age."
"Please, God, nay,” Cameron grumbled as he turned and strode toward his tent. “If I discover he was knighted young for some great heroic deed, I believe I just might gag."
Avery sat beside Cameron and watched him sleep. If the weather remained fine and the trail they followed was safe and clear of obstacles, they could be at Cairnmoor in four days. And then, she thought sadly, Cameron would trade her for Payton, send her away, and cut the very heart out of her. She did not think she could bear it.
She did not really understand how he could do it either. The matter of pride, of honor, of loyalty to his sister, she did understand. Yet despite all they had shared, he did not even seem to be considering any way of getting the husband he felt his sister needed and keeping his lover by his side. At times, Avery was certain he had come to care for her. Surely no man could make love to a woman as he did to her and not care, at least just a little. But perhaps a little was all it was. Too little.
And that, she admitted, was what she feared to learn. She was prepared to be traded for Payton and had accepted Cameron's reasons, ones she knew her family would also agree with even though it was all based upon a lie. What she feared was that he would trade her and send her away with no more emotion than he would feel if he traded some horses. She wanted him to be torn by his actions, and she very much feared that he would not be.
Cautiously she stood up, moved away from the bed, and started to get dressed. She could not stay and watch him sully all they had shared. She could not allow him to destroy the beauty of her memories. Avery desperately needed to be able to cling to the joy she had found in loving him, however briefly, but she now saw how easily he could destroy that. If she was not around to see him coldly discard her, she would still be able to treasure her memories, would still be able to see their passion as a beautiful thing.
After hastily packing a small sack with clothes and a few supplies, she crept out of the tent. No one stood guard near the tent, for no one expected her to flee Cameron's bed. There were a few guards set out to watch for thieves or anyone else eager for some bloodletting and looting, but she knew where they were. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Avery slipped into the shadows of the surrounding wood.
Just inside the wood, she paused to look back at the camp. It troubled her to leave Gillyanne behind, but she knew that her cousin would understand. There was no possible way she could stealthily get Gillyanne out of camp, and Avery could not be sure there would be a chance for them to flee together in the next few days. The only thing she was certain of was that no one would hurt Gillyanne, and she knew her cousin shared that certainty and so would not be afraid.
She started away from the camp at a brisk walk, wondering how far she could get before dawn. Unless Cameron woke up and reached for her before then, Avery felt sure her absence would not be noticed until morning. If she judged it right that gave her about three hours, maybe more. It might be enough if, she thought with a sigh, she was headed in the right direction.
Once she reached her family, she could let them know that Gillyanne was safe, that no matter what Cameron said, he would not hurt the girl. Avery knew that, even if Cameron was angered enough to briefly consider it, his own people would stop him. In her heart, however, she knew Cameron would never lay a hand on a woman or a child. That knowledge would be enough to give Payton some choice in what he would do. Avery could only hope that Cameron did not see her actions as just another in a long line of betrayals.
"What do ye mean ye cannae find her?"
Hearing his bellow echo around the tense, too-quiet camp, Cameron took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. When he had woken up to find Avery gone from their bed, he had assumed that she had slipped away for a moment of privacy. Although a little disappointed that he would not be able to start the day by making love to her, he had not thought her absence suspicious. By the time he was dressed and Donald had brought his food, however, he had begun to worry. There were a lot of unseen dangers in the wood. Now, however, after an hour of searching for her, he was not only worried; he was suspicious and angry.
"Some of her things are missing,” Anne announced quietly as she stepped out of Cameron's tent.
Cameron looked at Gillyanne. “She wouldnae escape without you."
Gillyanne shrugged. “Since the last time we tried to flee, we are always verra closely watched when we are together. And at night, I am usually weel encircled. She wouldnae have been able to rouse me without rousing someone else."
"Where would she go?"
"Donncoill."
"She doesnae ken how to get there from here."
"Avery had a long talk with Captain MacMillan. I think he may have given her a good idea of which way to go."
He had not considered that possibility and he cursed his blindness. “Ye dinnae seem verra concerned that she has left ye behind.” Cameron fought against the urge to avoid the girl's sharp gaze.
"Ye willnae hurt me,” Gillyanne said, her confidence clear to hear behind each word spoken. “I am in no danger."
"Neither was she,” snapped Cameron. “I would ne'er have harmed her."
"That depends upon what ye consider harm.” Gillyanne's smile was tinged with sadness. “I think poor Avery just decided that she didnae want to wait around and watch ye spoil everything."
Cameron was not sure what she meant, but before
he could ask, Leargan stepped up beside him to report, “There are none of the horses missing. She is on foot."
"Then she should be easy to find,” Cameron said as he strode toward the horses. He paused when he realized Leargan was following him. “I will go alone."
"Are ye sure that is wise?” Leargan asked as he moved to help Cameron saddle his horse.
"Who can say, but I will go alone. Ye can see to it that everyone continues on the trail we have chosen. When I find that fool lass, I will come and find you."
"Why not just let her go? What difference can it make?"
"If by some miracle she reaches any of her kinsmen, she will let them ken that any threat I make against Gillyanne can be ignored."
"And if ye find her, then bring her to Cairnnioor, ye are going to break her heart."
"She has kenned my plans from the beginning.” Cameron said tersely as he mounted. “I have ne'er lied to her."
"Mayhap not in words,” Leargan began, but then he shook his head and stepped away from the horse.
"Think on this, Leargan. ‘Tis a three-day hard ride to Donncoill from here. God alone kens how long it would take to walk it. A wee lass alone on the road for days is in a lot more danger than she could e'er be with me. Someone could easily find her and do far more to her than bruise her poor wee heart."
Cameron kicked his horse into a gallop. He headed in the direction of Donncoill, hoping Avery was indeed following Captain MacMillan's directions. The time she had almost escaped in France, she had found her way back to his camp well enough and fast enough to give them a timely warning about the DeVeaux, so she obviously had some sense of direction. It was going to be difficult to find one small woman in a countryside with so many places to hide, even if she stayed on the right path. It would be impossible if she got herself lost.
She didnae want to wait around and watch ye spoil everything.
Although he did not want to, Cameron found himself thinking over Gillyanne's words and beginning to understand what she had meant. Avery was no amorous widow, adulterous wife, or skilled courtesan. She was a young highborn woman. She had been a virgin. A woman like that did not indulge in light, easily forgotten affairs. And, he thought with an inner grimace, most affairs ended because the passion had faded, not because one's lover used one in trade for a husband for his sister. Despite his cynicism and his need to keep his emotions well guarded, he could not deny that what he and Avery shared was beautiful. He could understand how she might not wish to see it ended in the way he planned, that a romantically minded young woman might find it all upsetting enough to flee from.
I havenae been able to make ye love me like I love you. If ye love someone, shouldnae they love ye back?
He cursed as he recalled her fevered words. For the most part he had managed to shove them into a dark corner of his mind, but they had slipped forth now and again to tantalize him. Telling himself that it was only vanity that made him want those words to be true had not completely dimmed their allure. Now he found himself wondering if Avery really believed them. It would be easy for an untried girl to confuse passion with love. If Avery believed she loved him, then he could easily understand how she could think leaving him now was far more preferable than waiting for him to cast her aside, to send her away with no promises of a future.
The cynical part of him jeered at his conclusions, scoffing at his attempts to explain Avery's actions by thinking she was in love. There was another explanation for her attempt to reach Donncoill. She wanted to save her brother. Avery hoped to let her family know they could ignore his threats, that Payton did not need to marry Katherine because Gillyanne was in no real danger.
It made perfect sense. She was going to betray him to her family. There was even the possibility she would use their affair against him, paint him as guilty of the same crimes he accused her brother of. Cameron realized that he had no idea of just how much information Avery might have gathered on him, his clan, and Cairnmoor. She could prove a threat to far more than his plans to get his sister a husband.
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.
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