Chapter 16

James Henderson went to see Cameron the next morning to inform him of the bad news. When Cameron opened the door of his cottage he glared at the other man suspiciously and a frisson of dislike passed between them. Cameron's hands were dirty, since he had just been milking his cow and feeding his chickens, and he felt at a distinct disadvantage.

"Henderson," he growled. "What do ye want?"

"Good morning to you too," Henderson drawled sarcastically. "In answer to your question I came to tell you that your father, the Laird, has died. Your presence is needed at the castle, where the will is being read out."

Cameron ran his hand backwards through his hair, annoyed. Although his curiosity was piqued, he had better things to do than waste his time listening to his father's advisors going on and on about matters he knew nothing about. "Why do they need me there?" he asked irritably. "I know what they are goin' to say."

"Because it concerns you," Henderson said grimly. "I care nothing for you or your inheritance, but it may be in your best interests to turn up, M'Laird." He loaded the last word with sarcasm instead of respect, and looked at Cameron with narrowed eyes. "Will you come with me?"

Cameron sighed, exasperated. "Alright. Wait." He quickly washed and dried his face and hands, then changed into his only clean clothes before venturing out to meet James Henderson again. They rode in hostile silence towards the castle, and he urged Jimmy on as fast as the old horse could go. Cameron did not want to spend a moment more in Henderson's company than he had to.

However, when they arrived there, Cameron was astonished to find that a welcoming party had come out to meet him.

All the servants had paused in their labours and were cheering, waving, and calling out a hearty welcome as soon as they saw him.

Cameron felt a little dizzy and bewildered as he looked around him, especially when a party of important looking men dressed in the Lewis clan tartan came out to meet him.

One of them, a tall, sprightly, elderly man with striking blue eyes, came forward to greet him. After bowing, he said, "Good morning, M'Laird, I am Hector Lewis. May I say how sorry we all were to hear of the death of your father. He was a fine man."

"Thank ye, Master Lewis, but I hardly knew him." Cameron's voice was grim. "I am Cameron Dalziel." He laid the stress on his surname as he introduced himself.

"But you will be taking your father's name, surely?" Lewis asked, frowning with evident disapproval.

Cameron ignored the question as he handed the reins of his horse over to a stable lad.

"Where are we goin'?" he asked.

Hector Lewis, hearing his broad Scots vowels, seeing his peasants' clothes and noting his contempt for his father's name, was no longer prepared to be civil. He said nothing as he led Cameron to a large meeting room, where a number of men sat talking amongst themselves. Most of them were dressed in a similar fashion to Hector Lewis, but they were all of different ages and appearance, some young, some old, some middle-aged.

As Cameron walked into the room, all of them fell silent as Hector introduced them. "My friends, this is Cameron - er - Dalziel, the new Laird of Kilcarron." At the sound of his surname, most of the men frowned in disapproval. However, no one said anything, and Hector Lewis introduced him to everyone in a civil, dignified manner.

"Now, we come to the reading of the Laird's will," Hector announced. "It is really very simple. He bequeaths all his worldly goods and property to Cameron Dalziel, providing he changes his name to Lewis and marries Davina Henderson. He also stipulates that there is not to be a mourning period after his death."

"And if I do not want to marry her?" Cameron rose from his seat and walked around to the head of the table, where he stood behind Hector's chair and folded his arms, looking down its length at the assembly of clan members. He put his hands on his hips and planted his feet wide apart on the floor, deliberately making himself look as big as he could.

Despite his intimidating stance, most of them looked him up and down scornfully. He was a bastard, almost a lesser mortal in their eyes.

He scanned the table, looking at each face in turn, his eyes lingering on each one to intimidate them more. Some looked back at him defiantly, others turned away, and some looked at the table or their hands.

"It is in the will," one of the younger members said at last. "If you do not do it, then presumably you lose everything."

"Presumably? What happens if I don't care?" Cameron asked with a cynical laugh. "Do ye divide it up between ye?"

There was a murmur of conversation across the room before Hector Lewis stood up, looking annoyed. "Do you want the estate or not?" he asked angrily.

"I do," Cameron answered, "but my name will be Cameron Dalziel-Lewis, as will any children. That way I will honour both my father and my mother. I consent to be betrothed to Davina Henderson for a period of a month, an' if we suit, we will marry."

It was clear that Cameron had looked into the matter thoroughly. He had spoken with the minister, and had been told that he was entitled to be betrothed to Davina for as long as he wanted. However, Cameron had not told him that during that time he would try to work out a way to both marry Ava and have the estate at the same time. He was not greedy. The only reason he wanted the castle and the property was so that he could provide for her, her sisters, and any future children they might have.

The advisors murmured amongst themselves for a few seconds, then Hector Lewis approached Cameron.

"Will you wait outside for a while, please, while we deliberate amongst ourselves?" he asked.

Cameron nodded, then sent a quick, disapproving glance around all the elders before he left. As soon as the door shut behind him, he saw a maidservant with a tray of glasses and a pitcher of ale.

As if reading his mind, she smiled at him. "Are ye thirsty, M'Laird?" she asked.

Cameron returned her smile. "Indeed, I am!" he said eagerly.

The young woman poured out a glass of ale for him and waited while he drank it, then she poured him another glass.

"Thank ye," he said, sighing in satisfaction. "I was very thirsty. What is your name?"

"Thomasina, M'Laird, but I am usually called Ina." She looked at him assessingly. "A' the servants are lookin' forward tae havin' ye look after us. We a' think o' ye as one o' us."

"Good." Cameron grinned. "Because I am."

The young woman smiled at him before entering the room where the meeting was being held. The door closed behind her, leaving Cameron to pace restlessly around the outer chamber, where he had effectively been abandoned. It seemed like hours before he was allowed back in, but eventually, Hector stepped out and beckoned to him.

"Come in, M'Laird," he invited, holding the door open.

When he re-entered the large chamber, every one looked up at him expectantly, but Cameron kept his face deliberately expressionless.

Little did he know that he had been thoroughly assessed and judged during his absence. The advisors could see that not only was he a big man, but he had a commanding presence and was not afraid to stand up for himself. All in all, they had concluded that he would be a fine leader.

"We have been discussing the situation," Hector Lewis announced, "and we consent to your terms. The betrothal period is a reasonable one, and we are happy with the name as long as it includes ‘Lewis' in it. Welcome to Kilcarron, M'Laird." He smiled widely, and the others got to their feet and clapped loudly.

Cameron did not smile, but bowed his head in acknowledgement of the applause. All he wanted to do now was to leave, but he was forced to sit and eat his midday meal with the elders. The food was delicious, with great chunks of beef and mutton, mixed vegetables in a rich sauce, and mountains of freshly baked bread. Afterwards there were clootie dumplings and cream, his favorite pudding, and some rich red wine.

The company proved quite amiable, to his surprise, but there were many questions, and Cameron was aware that he was the object of much curiosity. Not only that, he felt as though he had been under scrutiny from the time he arrived, since many of the men were openly studying him. He felt distinctly uncomfortable, and left as soon as he could. He knew exactly where he wanted to go.

Janet and Rona moved into the Henderson house a few days after Ava. Now, they were looking at themselves in the mirror, their eyes wide with wonder as they surveyed the new woollen dresses they had just been given. Janet's was crimson, Rona's deep blue, and although they were warm and practical, they were made in the best quality and style, and both girls were delighted.

They had arrived at the steward's house that morning and had been given a warm welcome, a lavish breakfast, and a bath. Both young women were overwhelmed at the luxury in which they found themselves, and although they were sharing a bedchamber, which they preferred to do, it was the most beautiful one they had ever seen.

"I can't believe it!" Janet breathed in wide-eyed wonder.

They gazed at the big, intricately carved four poster bed with teal blue satin drapes. It was big enough for four people and its mattress was at least a foot thick. Janet's eyes wandered to the mahogany occasional tables and matching armoire, then the brightly coloured rugs on the polished wood floor. The thick curtains were the same shade of blue as the drapes on the bed, and the finely moulded cornices on the ceilings above gave a final touch of grandeur to the chamber.

Just then, Ava came in, grinning from ear to ear. "Is everythin' to your satisfaction, ladies?" she asked.

Her sisters smothered her in a tight hug.

"Everythin' is wonderful, Ava!" Rona laughed with happiness. "Just wonderful!"

"A maid will bring your dinner in a moment, so sit down in the chairs by the fire for a while an' calm down!" Ava was almost weeping herself - it was good to see her sisters so happy.

Just then, a knock at the door sounded and Ava went to speak to the young woman who had come to see her.

"Mistress," she said, "the young Laird has come tae see ye."

For a moment, Ava was puzzled. "The young Laird?"

"Aye, the new one at Kilcarron," the woman replied. "The very big man."

Suddenly reality hit her. The Laird was Cameron, but what was he doing here? She had made it perfectly clear how she felt and why she was not free to marry him. Dreading the encounter, she stumbled downstairs to confront him. He was standing with his back to her and her footsteps had not been heard on the thickly carpeted stairs, so she had a chance to observe him for a moment. He was magnificent. There was no other word to describe him.

His shoulders were broad, tapering to a narrow waist and hips, a tight backside and powerfully muscled thighs and calves. His shining blond hair hung down to his shoulders, and she could not help gazing at him hungrily.

Ava felt the familiar flood of warmth between her thighs, and a pleasant fluttering pulse. It was a joyous feeling, but she knew that however much she wanted Cameron, she could never have him, and her fleeting joy suddenly turned into deep sadness.

Cameron felt a prickling on the back of his neck, a sure sign that someone was watching him. He spun around and his eyes met Ava's. She was gazing down at him from a few steps up the staircase, and her expression was infinitely sad. His heart went out to her. God, how he loved her!

He moved closer and bowed to Ava while still staying a short distance away from her, since he was determined that no-one would see anything but a formal meeting between a Laird and a friend.

Ava gazed at him hungrily for a moment then brought her expression to a more neutral expression. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I came to see if I could speak to you," he replied. "The council has told me that my father is dead. They tell me I am to be the new Laird. I wanted you to hear it from me first. It will mean many changes." He looked away from her, and she saw a spasm of pain cross his face. "I wish we could marry, Ava. I have so much to give you, and I don't just mean the estate. I wish things were different."

Ava's heart was breaking as she shook her head and turned away. "So do I Cam, but there is nothin' we can do. You must marry Davina an' be happy. I am sure she will look after you. She is the right woman for you an' comes from the proper social class. Forget me, Cam. I am nobody. Anyway, we are in the home of my future husband and your future wife. Our security depends on both of these people. Please leave now, an' stop comin' to see me. Goodbye." Ava knew she was being cruel, but every time she saw him it broke her heart anew, and she could not stand much more of it.

She turned away and he watched her go, his heart shattering. There was nothing more he could do.