"And make him speak to me, make him say what he didnae say the day I left Cairnmoor?"
"Aye. I would."
"And would that be before or after ye beat him o'er the head with a stout cudgel?” Avery smiled faintly when Elspeth laughed, for they both knew she was not completely jesting.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Nigel sat on the edge of the bed and warily watched his angry wife pace their bedchamber. It was late and he wanted some sleep, but he knew rest would not come until Gisele was calmed. He was not exactly sure why she was so furious. Avery was safe. Payton had assured them of that in his letter. Their daughter might not be pleased with her brother and Sir Cameron, but he doubted she would be angry for long. If he judged right the cause of the sadness that had weighed her down since her return home, she loved Sir Cameron. Payton believed she did, too.
Payton was still a free man, he mused as Gisele muttered away in French. Avery would soon have the man Elspeth said she called her dark-as-sin chevalier. The only cloud he could see upon the horizon was that someone had stolen the only pot left of dark honey—his favorite. Elspeth had looked suspiciously guilty when she had heard him complain about it, but she had disappeared with her newly returned husband too quickly for him to question her.
"Are you listening to me?” Gisele snapped as she stood in front of Nigel.
"Actually? Nay,” he replied, and he almost smiled at the startled look upon her face. “I was wondering what happened to that last pot of dark honey."
"Our daughter has been stolen away to be wed to that black-eyed rogue and you fret over missing honey pots?"
"Dark honey is my favorite. Strange, but I think Elspeth is hiding something, might e'en ken what happened to it.” He was not surprised to hear Gisele grind her teeth. “Love, Avery is quite safe,” he said quietly, and he caught her when she flung herself into his arms.
"He sold his sword to the DeVeaux,” she muttered against his chest.
"And soon saw the error of that. He didnae fight your kinsmen."
"Oui, though it is not because of his reticence that so many survived that treachery. It was Avery's timely warning that did that. That man tried to force our son to marry his sister."
"She told him the child was Payton's. I dinnae believe I would have acted any differently."
"I wanted to give her a lovely wedding,” Gisele whispered, her voice thick with tears.
Nigel patted her on the back. “Ye can have a grand feasting for the christening of her first child."
"She is with child?” Gisele cried, staring at him in horror.
"Nay, not that I could see. But, we Murrays are a fertile breed, so I dinnae think it will be a long wait."
"I want to go and meet this man."
"In a fortnight."
"Why so long?"
"Because they will be newly wed and should have some time alone. Because they may have a few troubles to sort out between them, and we would only make that harder to do. Because the father in me still has a small inclination to beat him verra soundly, as I am sure he has bedded our lass. And, because ye are angry with the mon and need time to get o'er it."
"A week?"
"Nay, a fortnight."
"Oh, as you wish. But, we do not wait a fortnight to leave. We leave in ten days, so we arrive there in a fortnight."
"Agreed."
"Thank you.” She kissed him and laughed when he tumbled her down onto the bed. “And, for being such a good husband, I will tell you what has happened to the dark honey."
"Elspeth took it?” He frowned with suspicion when she slowly smiled and reached out for a small pot on the table next to the bed.
"Oui, I fear she did. I saw her and pressed her to tell me why. She did and I had to agree that she had good reasons for her theft. I also know that you are very fond of strawberry jam, too."
Much later, Nigel weakly agreed that he was indeed very fond of strawberry jam, and he wondered sleepily why his wife laughed so hard when he suggested that next time they try blackberries.
"Are ye certain your parents willnae be hard on Avery's heels, screaming for my blood?"
Payton sighed as he sprawled in a seat near the back of the tiny church and watched Cameron pace back and forth in front of the altar. “Maman may consider it, but my fither will stop her."
Cameron paused in his pacing long enough to frown at Payton. “I would have thought your father would be e'en more eager to get his hands on me."
"Ye are wedding Avery. E'en if he guessed ye have bedded her, and he nay doubt strongly suspects that ye have, that will satisfy him. Avery has probably been brooding about at Donncoill, and he has guessed her feelings for ye."
As he walked to the door of the small stone church to look outside, just as he had dozens of times already, Cameron asked, “Are ye verra sure Avery has feelings for me?” After seeing the same people outside still waiting for Avery to arrive, just as they had been for the past hour, he started to walk back to the altar but stopped to frown at a softly cursing Payton. “'Tis a reasonable question since I am about to marry the lass."
"'Twas reasonable the first time,” Payton said. “I might e'en accept the first half-dozen times as reasonable. I believe ye passed reasonable a long time ago."
Muttering a curse, Cameron sat down facing Payton and dragged his hands through his hair. Caught up in the heady thought of getting Avery back, of holding her again, he had readily accepted Payton's plan. His uncertainty had grown in the week since then. Although it could be argued that he was not really kidnapping Avery for his bride since he had her brother's full compliance, he was still tricking her and pushing her into something she had not yet agreed to. The only hope he had to cling to, the one to make him think she might agree, was the memory of her passion for him and some fever-bred declarations of love. With each passing day, that had begun to look like not very much at all.
Yet despite his doubts and his reluctance to tie Avery to his side if she did not wish to be there, Cameron was not sure he would put a stop to this plan if given the chance to do so. He needed Avery, needed her in his bed and in his life. Although he had finally accepted that he loved her, there was no joy in it—not when she was no longer with him. In truth, until Payton had offered this plan, the revelation of his feelings for Avery had caused him nothing but torment. He needed to put an end to that, needed to hold her and tell her how he felt, perhaps even ask her for forgiveness. It might be right and fair to offer Avery some choice, but he did not have the strength to risk it.
Meeting Payton's steady look, Cameron did not think the man would welcome some act of noble sacrifice, anyway. Payton knew he and Avery had been lovers, believed Avery loved him. The tables had been completely turned. Now it was Payton doing what he could to get his sister a husband. Young Payton was being far more amiable and understanding than he had been, but beneath that good humor, Cameron felt sure there was steely determination. There was only one way he might be able to put an end to this, and that would be to tell Payton that he neither wanted Avery nor loved her, completely disclaiming his earlier declarations. Unfortunately, even if he could spit out such lies, he doubted Payton would believe him. Worse, if Payton did believe him, a challenge would be made, for Payton would quite rightly feel he needed to fight Cameron, if not to try to restore Avery's honor, then certainly to make her seducer pay for hurting her.
"I ken most men are uneasy ere they take their wedding vows,” Payton drawled, “but ye look almost tormented. Ye said ye wanted her and loved her. From all I have heard, ye couldnae keep your cursed hands off her. So, what is the problem?"
"None with me,” Cameron replied, “but she may not feel the same."
"She bedded down with ye."
"Passion."
"Which the women of my clan seem to be gloriously free with, but only with one mon. She told me she loves ye."
"She could have said that to keep ye from getting dangerously angry about the beddi
ng."
"And what makes ye think I wasnae angry anyway?” Payton asked quietly, but he went on before Cameron could make any response. “My sister wouldnae have become your lover if she didnae feel a great deal more for ye than passion. True, the women of my clan arenae the delicate, blushing maidens men say they want, but they have verra high morals."
"I wasnae saying Avery has no morals,” Cameron snapped, wondering if Payton was actually trying to start an argument.
"I wondered, since of course, she had the bedding before the wedding. That does seem to be the way of it for our women. ‘Tis because they dinnae bed the mon until they decide he is the one they have chosen."
"What?"
"Avery chose you. She decided ye were her mon, shall we say. Once Murray women choose their mate, ‘tis amazing how much nonsense they will endure to have him. For, quite expectedly, the men they choose dinnae always understand how fortunate they are, not right away. Avery has chosen ye, wants ye, and says she loves ye. So I will do my best as her loving brother to see that she gets ye."
"It might help me now if Avery had spoken of these things. All I e'er heard from her were a few confused declarations when she was gripped by that fever. She ne'er spoke of what she felt at any other time."
"I should trust more in her fevered ravings if I were ye. And, I suspect ye didnae invite such confidences. She was probably waiting for some sign that ye would welcome such words, and ye spoke only of her leaving."
He could not argue with that, Cameron thought morosely. If he had doubts now, it truly was his own fault. He may have been unable to resist holding her close in his bed, but he had held her at a distance in every other way. Considering how little he had given her in return for her gifts of passion, laughter, and love, he would not be surprised if she were reluctant to marry him now.
"I just dinnae want to drag her into something she may have decided she doesnae want,” Cameron said softly.
"She wants it though she may be angry enough for a wee while to tell ye otherwise. Dinnae ye have any faith in her?"
"Aye,” Cameron replied without hesitation. “That really doesnae help me believe this is the way to do this, however. Ye say she wants this and I have a few feverish mutterings to tell me ye may be right. ‘Tis nay a lot to hang a marriage on."
"'Tis best this way,” Payton assured him “Ye can woo her after the wedding. Ye being such a brooding, reticent mon, I am nay sure ye could woo her weel from a distance. And ye would have to confront my parents,” he began.
"Which would be best done after I have wedded her,” Cameron finished as he got up to resume his pacing.
"Especially since I dinnae think ye are of a temperament to deal with parents who ken ye have bedded their daughter, then sent her away and tried to make me marry your sister. Then there are those troublesome accusations of rape."
"I wonder if all of those lasses who think ye are so verra bonny ken how irritating ye can be."
"Nay, I save my true troublesome nature for the pleasure of my kinsmen."
"And that could be reason enough to hesitate to marry into the family."
"But ye willnae hesitate?"
Cameron sighed and shook his head. “I cannae. E'en though it means I must needs claim ye and wee Gilly as kin."
"Ah, but ye have met only a verra small part of my family."
"How encouraging.” He frowned and eyed Payton a little warily. “Your family is large?"
"By the time ye include all the allies and kinsmen added through marriage, aye. I have ne'er paused to tally the ones I could call close kin, including most of Elspeth's husband Cormac's brothers and sisters. His parents were infamous breeders, especially since so many were illegitimate issue. Young they are, and always about. Then there are uncle Eric's kin, the MacMillans, who seem to be ever visiting. Then—"
Cameron held up his hand. “Enough. I fear I begin to feel I cheat ye by bringing so few into the fold.” He briefly grinned. “There is, of course, Leargan. Oh, and Katherine."
Payton made an exaggerated grimace, then grew serious. “Do ye think ye can e'er forgive her?"
"Mayhap, if she shows true remorse and changes some. I think ‘tis best if we leave her to the care of her husband and his family for a while. I have begun to recall things about them and I do think they may work that miracle. At least I need not worry o'er her bairn. Malcolm and his family will raise it right. I just wish I could have done the same for Katherine."
"Mayhap ye could have done more for the lass, but I wouldnae suffer much guilt o'er how she turned out. Ye gave her what ye could and she had loving people in Agnes and Iain, and many another. Sometimes a person just takes their own path and ye cannae get them back. Jesu, no mon could have had more abysmal parents than Cormac Armstrong, and he is a good mon. So are his brothers and sisters, the legitimate and the bastards."
"And my son lives with these Armstrongs?” Cameron asked quietly.
"Cormac, Elspeth, and all the rest treat wee Alan as one of their own. God smiled upon the lad when He set him down in Elspeth's path."
Cameron sighed and nodded. “There is a small part of me that wonders if it is fair to take the lad away from that. After all, if Avery gives me a son, Alan cannae be my heir. Yet he is my son. I have ne'er set eyes on the bairn, but I want him."
"He is of your own flesh. Of course ye do. ‘Twill take time, but ye will have him. Elspeth and Cormac are saddened by it all, but they kenned there was a father somewhere who may want the lad. And, they will be verra pleased that ‘twill be Avery's home, too, which Alan will eventually come to live in."
"Avery and Gillyanne say he looks just like me."
"Aye, though he isnae of such a brooding temperament."
"Weel, soon mayhap I willnae be, either.” He tensed when Anne suddenly appeared in the doorway of the church.
"She is coming,” Anne announced. “I have the brew all ready. Ye get that priest,” she ordered as she left.
"I am still nay sure we ought to be giving Avery that mead potion,” Cameron muttered.
"Avery may crave your dark, brooding self, but she will be angry o'er this trick and be wanting a few explanations and declarations from you. Do ye really want to be doing that now?"
Cameron did not hesitate. “Nay. I just hope that brew wears off ere it is time to begin my wedding night."
Avery frowned as they rode up to the church. It had been a long journey but not an unpleasant one. The weather had stayed fine and the men had been good company. What they had not been, however, was very forthcoming. She still did not know why Payton had sent for her. Her suspicions had begun to grow with every mile, no matter how often she told herself it was not fair and that these men did not deserve such unkind thoughts as she was beginning to have.
The sight of Anne and Therese at the door of the church pleased her. It also added to her suspicions. There was no reason she could think of for them to be there. She did, however, smile with honest delight when she dismounted and they hurried over to hug her in greeting. Thirsty from the ride, she readily accepted the drink they gave her, only to frown after taking a sip.
"This is, weel, different,” she murmured. “'Tis something like mead."
Anne nodded. “There is mead in it, but nay verra much, for I ken that ye find it too heady a drink."
"Verra heady, and I need a clear head to speak with Payton. Where is he?” she asked, and she took another drink. It was not bad tasting and served well enough to quench her thirst.
"Waiting for ye in the church. He said we could visit with ye for a moment or two first."
"That was kind of him.” She smiled brightly at the woman. “'Tis verra good to see ye. I have missed ye both.” She frowned at Therese, who was fluttering about and carefully brushing the dust from her skirts. “I shouldnae fret o'er it, Therese. Payton willnae mind a bit of dust and dirt."
Therese removed Avery's cloak and tossed it to a grinning Leargan. “God will."
It took Avery a little longer than she
thought it should to understand what Therese meant. “Oh. Aye. I suppose one ought to look as good as possible before entering a church. Mayhap Payton should just meet me out here.” She finished her drink, then tossed the goblet to Leargan, who neatly caught it even as she wondered what had possessed her to do that.
"Nay,” said Anne as she began to unbraid Avery's long hair. “Ye will want privacy."
"God wants my hair down, too?"
"The headdress will look much prettier if your hair is down and brushed weel."
"Of course. That makes sense."
It made no sense at all, a small part of Avery's mind told her, but she did not feel inclined to heed it. Questioning the kind things Anne and Therese were doing could lead to discord, and quite suddenly, Avery did not want even the smallest hint of discord. For the first time since she had left Cairnmoor she felt happy. A part of her expressed some dismay over how sweetly v blindly happy she was, but since that tasted suspiciously like discord, she ruthlessly banished it.
"Do I look bonny now?” she asked Anne, lightly touching the wreath of flowers in her hair.
"Oh, aye, verra bonny,” replied Anne. “Happy about that, are ye?"
"Verra happy. Odd, but I am verra happy about the sun shining, too. And how bonny the day is. And how nice Leargan looks when he is grinning like a fool. Did I just call Leargan a fool? That wasnae kind of me. Sounds like discord."
Anne began to tug her toward the church. “And ye certainly dinnae want any discord today."
"Nay, none at all. Oh, look at that. Leargan is getting to the church before us. Is he going to talk to Payton, too?"
"He will be saying a word or two to the lad, to be certain. Come along, lass, ye can look at those flowers later."
"But they are verra pretty."
"Verra pretty indeed, but ye willnae wish to miss what awaits ye in the church."
"Payton waits there."
"More than that."
"A surprise? I do love surprises."
"I am glad to hear it. It may keep ye from wanting to throttle us all later,” Anne muttered as she tugged Avery into the church.
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