Highland Knight

by Hannah Howell

"Ye do like to risk that bonny face of yours, dinnae ye?” she said quietly.

  "Nay as much as ye think,” he drawled. “My horse is saddled and readied for me to go hunting."

  She was almost able to laugh, but then she looked at Cameron. He made no move to come and say farewell, nor to give her any sweet words she could treasure. Although he looked upset, even faintly tormented, it was not enough. She needed more to give her some hope to cling to, and he was obviously not going to give it to her. Avery curtsied in silent farewell and then, after he bowed in silent reply, she walked away.

  There was a slight hesitation in their departure as the Murray men greeted them. Bowen hugged them both and seemed reluctant to let go of Gillyanne. When they were finally mounted, Avery fought the urge to look back until they were too far away for her even to catch a glimpse of Cairnmoor.

  "Ye must nay be sad, Avery,” Gillyanne said as she rode up beside her.

  "He said nary a word, Gillyanne,” Avery replied.

  "There was no privacy, and the problem of Payton and Katherine must still be sorted out."

  "True, and mayhap he simply had naught he wished to say to me. Mayhap he decided silence was the kindest way to say farewell.” She nudged her horse to a faster gait, leaving Gillyanne behind.

  "Where is Leargan?” Cameron asked as Payton strolled up to the table and sat down on his left.

  "He went hunting,” Payton replied as he helped himself to some of the food set out for the morning meal.

  "Wise of him."

  "'Twas just a kiss."

  "Ye should have stopped him from mauling your sister."

  "Avery didnae seem to mind.” He shrugged. “No one else seemed able to bestir himself to give her a fond farewell."

  Cameron studied the younger man. Payton only occasionally met his stare as he calmly ate. There was a hard anger visible in those glances, but also the glint of amusement. Cameron wondered what Avery had told her brother.

  Just thinking Avery's name caused an odd, wrenching ache in his chest. Cameron told himself it was only sharp regret. In her slim arms he had found the sweetest, richest pleasure he had ever known. Any man would sorely regret losing that. After a while, when the memories eased and he would not be so apt to make comparisons, he would find himself a mistress. If he took care of his body's cravings, he would soon forget Avery Murray. He scowled into his wine when even the cynical part of him seemed to scoff at that plan.

  "Ye said the marriage wouldnae take place for a week, mayhap two?” Payton asked as he sprawled back in his chair and sipped at a goblet full of cider.

  "Nay,” Cameron replied. “I need to fetch a priest, and there are plans that must be made. A week would require a lot of luck and hard work, so I shall set the wedding date for a fortnight from now.” He frowned when he saw two maids briefly flutter around Payton until the youth was able to gently send them on their way. “Is it always like that?"

  "I am new to them,” Payton replied. “'Twill fade."

  "Many a mon would kill to be able to draw such besotted attentions, to have such bounty constantly thrust at him."

  "'Tis all shallow—fleeting and unimportant. My uncle Eric had the same problem. Still does, actually. As he says, what is it that they admire but a lump of flesh and bone that happens to be shaped in a manner which pleases the eye? It can be scarred by wound or disease, easily made positively repulsive. For all they ken, I snore loud enough to deafen them, have the manners of a pig, and am an utter coward or a terrible lover. Whene'er I think I might be succumbing to the taint of vanity, I go home. My family kens how to keep me humble, especially Avery."

  The ache returned to his chest and Cameron cursed inwardly. Whatever the affliction was, he hoped it did not last long. Muttering some excuse about needing to check Cairnmoor's supplies, he left the great hall. Cameron realized that he found Payton's knowing looks as unsettling as Gillyanne's. The fact that Payton's eyes, so very similar to Avery's, caused him to think of saddling his horse, chasing Avery down, and bringing her back to Cairnmoor, was one he fought to ignore.

  Payton shook his head as he watched Cameron stride away. The man was battling something fiercely, and Payton feared it was himself. Avery had indeed picked a troubled man to love. Payton was not sure Cameron MacAlpin knew how to accept such a gift, and he was certainly struggling hard not to return it. He was going to have to quickly sort out the tangle with Katherine, and not just for his own sake. Cameron had to be made to see what he could have with Avery before he convinced himself that he did not need her at all.

  "Is he gone?” asked Leargan as he slipped into the hall.

  "Aye.” Payton grinned as the man sat down across from him and began to eat heartily. “I thought ye were going hunting."

  "Realized I had forgotten to break my fast. Cannae hunt on an empty stomach."

  As he chewed on a thick slice of bread, Leargan studied Payton. “Ye ken it all, dinnae ye."

  "Dinnae worry. I willnae try to kill him. Cannae. Avery loves him."

  "Aye, poor wee lass.” He exchanged a brief grin with Payton. “I can only hope yon fool has the wit to get her back."

  "He may need some nudging. And the matter of my proposed marriage to Katherine must be sorted out first."

  Leargan sighed. “Ye arenae the father of that bairn, are ye?"

  "Nay, but I think I ken who is. Tell me, do ye have much skill at listening without being caught at it?"

  "Aye. If ye will pardon my lack of modesty, I will confess that I am verra good at it. Why?"

  "Whene'er I am alone with my dear betrothed, I want ye to be listening."

  "Think ye can get her to admit that she is lying?"

  "Aye, but I am the mon caught in this trap. ‘Twould be my word against hers. I need someone Cameron can openly trust to be able to stand behind what I say. Willing?"

  "Verra,” agreed Leargan. “Of course, discovering all this came about because his own sister lied to him may not help Cameron much."

  Payton made a languid gesture with one elegant hand. “Dinnae worry. I will get him and Avery together."

  "Oh, aye? Ye think ye are that persuasive?"

  "I can be, but ‘tis Avery who will be my best weapon. She loves the fool. What mortal mon could turn his back on that for verra long?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cameron yanked on his boots, stood up, and found himself facing the chair. No matter how often he told himself it was just a piece of furniture, he would spend hours staring at it, his mind crowded with heated memories. Every morning for a week now, he had woken up firm in his decision to burn it. Then he would find himself staring at it and trembling with memories and emotions he did not want. Every night he found sleep elusive as he sprawled in his painfully empty bed and stared at that chair.

  For two days he had tried to smother the ache inside him with drink, to fill the emptiness inside him with wine. When he had roused from one drunken stupor to find himself actually sitting in the chair, Avery's name upon his lips, he had decided that drink was no cure. He did not even want to consider what maudlin things he may have said to Leargan, who had too often had to help him to bed.

  And now he brooded, he thought crossly. Brooding kept him locked within his own thoughts, and he did not want to be there. Avery was there. Her smile, her voice, the way she looked when he gave her pleasure. He found himself thinking of what he could have done differently, if anything. Those words of love she had let slip while fevered haunted him. His memories constantly reminded him that she was the first woman who had ever made him feel handsome. And as if he were the best lover ever born, he thought with a familiar tightening in his groin.

  The other problem with brooding was that at the edges of his mind was a truth that was increasingly strident in its demand to be recognized. Cameron blamed it for his headaches and for that ache in his chest that refused to go away. Worse, it made him afraid—afraid that, if he finally listened to it, it was going to comple
tely devastate him.

  Resisting the urge to kick the chair, he strode out of his bedchamber. What he needed was hard work, the kind of work that would leave him too exhausted to think of things like how soft and sweet Avery's skin was. He walked into the great hall where Payton and Leargan sat eating heartily and conversing like old friends. Grunting a greeting, he walked to his seat only to stop and stare at the little pot of jam set next to his scones. Blackberry jam. Spitting out a curse, he picked it up, hurled it against the wall, and strode out of the great hall.

  Leargan stared at the shattered pot and the dark jam oozing down the wall. “I dinnae think I want to ken why that set off his temper."

  "Nay, neither do I,” agreed Payton.

  "He is getting worse."

  "Not getting much sleep at night, I suspect. At least he isnae drinking any more."

  "True, although I wish he had gotten drunk just one more time so that I might have discovered why that chair in his room bothers him so much.” Leargan looked at Payton and they both laughed. “Ah, nay, we shouldnae laugh. Poor fool is hurting."

  "He is indeed, and I think he is verra close to admitting to himself just why he is."

  Leargan studied Payton for a moment, then asked, “And ye will accept him when he weds your sister?"

  "Aye,” Payton replied. “I confess, I am nay sure why she loves the great, black-eyed, brooding fool, but she does. ‘Tis all that matters, to me and to my kinsmen."

  "Do ye think she will still be willing when he finally comes to his senses?"

  "Oh, aye. Her anger and hurt will need soothing, but it willnae have been long enough since she left for her to e'en begin to stop loving him. Truth is, Avery probably cannae stop. We Murrays tend to mate for life, and she has obviously decided that Cameron is her mate. And I intend that she have him. Soon."

  "Soon? Are ye that close to the truth, then?"

  "I am. I have had a pleasant chat with all the maids who traveled to court with Katherine's group, and they were most helpful.” He grinned when Leargan rolled his eyes “I also had a lovely visit or two with Aunt Agnes."

  "Aunt Agnes? She is a dear woman and I love her, but I wouldnae have thought ye would get much sensible talk out of her."

  "One but needs to ken how to sort the wheat from the chaff. Some verra intriguing bits of knowledge are hidden amongst all that happy chatter. She was an abysmal choice of chaperon for Katherine."

  "Obviously. So ye think ye have learned enough to get the truth out of Katherine?"

  Payton nodded. “And I have decided to use a bit of advice Gillyanne whispered to me ere she left here. She told me to make Katherine angry, that the woman doesnae think o'er what she says when she is angry. Then she told me how to stir up a fine rage in my betrothed. Deny her."

  "But ye have already done that,” murmured Leargan.

  "Before, aye, but Katherine thinks me weel trapped now. She thinks she has won the game, has fooled us all. She had her braw but poor lover, and her brother will see that she has her wealthy husband. Gillyanne is right. ‘Tis time to deny Katherine all she thinks she has won: me in her bed, visits to my French lands and the French court, visits to our king's court, where I am in some favor now, and my purse. The only place she will be able to parade her prize will be here or at Donncoill."

  "She will be enraged."

  "Exactly,” Payton said, and he stood up. “In response, I want her to taunt me with what she sees as her victories over we poor foolish men."

  "And when does this play begin?” Leargan asked as he, too, stood up and nodded a greeting to Anne and Therese when they arrived.

  "Tonight. A walk in the gardens, I believe."

  "Good choice. Lots of places for me to lurk unseen,” Leargan said as he and Payton began to leave.

  "Here, now, what is this mess?” Anne cried, causing both men to turn and look at her. “'Tis blackberry jam.” She scowled over her shoulder at Payton and Leargan. “Did ye do this?"

  "Nay, mistress,” Payton replied. “Your laird did it."

  Anne shook her head. “I dinnae understand. I thought he liked blackberry jam, but this is the second pot gone to waste."

  "The second?” asked Payton.

  "Aye. The day ye arrived, Sir Payton, Therese and I were cleaning the laird's bedchamber. He must have spilled a pot of it. Just like a mon to grab anything close at hand to clean up a spill. Used a fine, soft drying cloth. ‘Tis ruined now. Fortunately the spots on the robes and sheets were nay too bad. There was e'en some on one of the chairs.” She frowned when the two men stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing so hard they nearly staggered out of the great hall.

  "Men can be verra odd creatures,” she said, looking at Therese only to find the woman frowning thoughtfully at the mess. “What is it?” Anne thought over everything she had said and considered the looks upon the young men's faces before they had started laughing. “Nay, it couldnae be."

  "Oui,” said Therese. “I think someone play with their food, eh? Fun play, oui? Love play."

  "My, my, and wee Avery with such a sweet face.” Anne stared at the jam, then looked at Therese again. “I rather like clotted cream and my Ranald fair swoons o'er it."

  "Me, I like the honey. My man, too."

  Anne and Therese left the jam for someone else to clean up. They went over to the table and made their selections. As they walked out of the great hall, they met Katherine walking in. Hiding their stolen treasure in their skirts, they fled, giggling like young girls.

  Cameron stared at his goblet of wine and wondered if he should try getting drunk again. Hard work had not helped much. He glanced at Leargan, Payton, and Katherine, then at his aunt Agnes and cousin Iain: the company at the head table would not give him much diversion. Payton and Leargan were again talking like old friends while Katherine pouted over being ignored. His cousin Iain was enduring one of Aunt Agnes's long, rambling conversations. He missed Avery, he thought with a sigh. He had missed her from the moment she had walked away, and it simply was not getting any better. In fact, Cameron thought it was getting a lot worse—painfully worse.

  "Cameron,” Katherine said, loud enough to interrupt Payton and Leargan, “I think ye need to speak to the servants."

  "Why?” He knew he sounded curt and uninterested, but Katherine had far too many complaints, and most were petty ones.

  "They are stealing food. And they are doing a poor job of cleaning."

  "The hall looks clean and stealing is a crime, so ye ought to weigh your words most carefully ere ye accuse anyone."

  "The hall is clean now, but there was jam all o'er the wall this morning, and it was hours before it was cleaned up."

  "Jam can be verra hard to clean up,” Cameron murmured, proud of how calm he sounded.

  "Usually best just to lick it up,” drawled Leargan.

  "It was on the wall,” Katherine snapped, and she shook her head.

  Cameron began to get a very bad feeling—a feeling that sharpened when he saw the laughter in Leargan's and Payton's eyes. “'Tis gone now. So what about the stealing?"

  "When I came down to break my fast, there was no clotted cream or honey for my scones or porridge."

  "That doesnae mean it was stolen."

  "Nay? I am certain I saw Anne and Therese trying to hide something in the folds of their skirts as they hurried away."

  "Anne and the clotted cream,” Cameron heard Leargan murmur to Payton. “Ranald loves it."

  "Then it must be Theresa's mon Hugh who has the sweet tooth,” said Payton.

  Slumping in his chair, Cameron took a deep drink of wine. Somehow, someone had discovered one of the love games he had played with Avery. He supposed he ought to be flattered that others had rushed to imitate him. He had never been an adventurous lover before. It should not surprise him that such pleasure carried some cost.

  "And then at the nooning, I wanted some strawberry jam for my bread.” Katherine frowned briefly when Cameron groaned, but she did not pause long in her com
plaint. “The page said there was none. I kenned that must be a lie, so I went down to the kitchens."

  "I am surprised that ye e'en ken where they are,” drawled Payton.

  Katherine ignored him. “Cook said there was none left, but there was a pot of it right on the table. She said it had gone bad and wouldnae let me take it. I didnae think it could go bad."

  Deciding it was a waste of time to pretend he did not know his secret was out, Cameron looked at Payton and Leargan, who shook their heads in denial. “It can, I suppose. Cook would know,” he told Katherine.

  "Then explain why, when I went out later to take an apple to my mare, I saw Maude, the laundress, hurry off to her cottage with that verra same pot of jam?"

  Cameron pictured Big Maude in his mind, a woman nearly as tall as him and several stone heavier. He then pictured her wee, skinny husband. One glance at the wide-eyed looks on Payton's and Leargan's faces told him they were doing the same. It was not an image he wished to linger over. He was certainly not going to tell Katherine what he thought was the fate of that jam.

  "Since these people are the verra ones who make the foods, one cannae begrudge them an occasional treat,” Cameron said. “If it becomes too common, I will speak to everyone."

  "And I will stand firm at your side if ye do, cousin,” vowed Leargan, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

  Cameron spared a brief glare for his cousin before having another deep drink of wine. Leargan knew he would never speak to his people about this. What could he say? Please stop playing love games with my food? He just hoped that in a few days the pilfering would decrease to an unnoticeable trickle. He then thought of those rogues Ranald and Hugh and their handsome wives and decided he might be wise to keep an eye on the supply of clotted cream and honey.

  "A fine meal, Sir Cameron, as always,” Payton said, standing up and bowing slightly. “In truth, I ate so much I believe ‘twould be wise to have a wee walk about the gardens to help settle it all."

  "Oh, that is a lovely idea,” Katherine said as she stood up and hurried to Payton's side.

  "Aye, it was,” Payton murmured as he led Katherine out of the great hall.