Chapter 17

Amonth went by, and the ceremony for the betrothal of Cameron and Davina approached with frightening speed. Laird Lewis had been buried quickly and with the bare minimum of ceremony, as he had asked. He had never been a man who enjoyed pomp and circumstance, considering it a waste of time and resources.

There was a week of mourning, although the Laird had not wanted any at all. However, the elders had made their own decision and the betrothal ceremony for Cameron and Davina was to be pushed back a little, which both of them thought was a good thing, although not for the same reasons.

In that time Cameron moved from his cottage into the castle, and James Henderson decided that Davina should too. He did not ask Cameron's permission, because he knew it would have been refused, so he moved her in anyway and presented him with a fait accompli.

Davina was happy with the idea, thinking that it would give them time to get to know each other a little better, but Cameron was furious, and confronted Henderson as soon as he found out.

He called Henderson to his study. "Why did you move Davina in here without my permission?" he asked Henderson furiously. "I am the Laird here, no' you!"

"I thought you would be pleased," he answered, pretending to be hurt. It was a lie, and both of them knew it, but Cameron was trapped; he could not throw Davina out of the place that was about to become her home.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Henderson!" Cameron growled. "She can stay, but you can keep out of my sight!"

Cameron tried to go out only at twilight and in the darkness, but Davina invariably found him. He longed for rainy nights, when she did not venture out of her chamber, for then he could stand on the turrets to look out into the darkness and think.

For the life of him, he could not think of a way of bending the situation to his will. He could not wish Davina away. He could only let himself be betrothed to her and hope that things worked out between them when they married. After all, she was a pleasant enough woman - she was just not the woman he wanted.

It was one of those nights that only came along once in a blue moon in the Highlands: there was a thunderstorm. This was something that happened so seldom that it terrified the life out of the locals. The guards all scuttled downstairs in fear of their lives, because standing exposed to lightning on top of a high tower could be fatal. Cameron was quite aware of this, but chose to risk it anyway. He simply could not stand to be indoors anymore.

He was not so stupid as to stand on the top turret, of course, but he was soaked to the skin in no time, anyway. Nevertheless, he relished the rain, feeling it washing away the cares of the day, making him feel clean and renewed.

The only problem that ate away at his peace of mind was Ava. He constantly fretted about her, wondering what she was doing. How was she faring? And most of all, who was she kissing? Had she begun to desire James Henderson? He wished he could talk to her, but how could he when the very thought of her threatened to unman him?

He yearned for his Ava, and every night before he went to bed he pleasured himself while thinking of her because he needed her so much. What did she look like naked? He would likely never know, but he could imagine: full, rounded breasts, a tiny waist, curving hips and shapely legs. Her sex would be hidden behind a little patch of copper coloured hair, and she would smell of the earth, the pine trees whose cones she collected for kindling, and her own sweet essence.

Cameron sighed. ‘Oh, Ava,' he thought. ‘If only ye were mine I would treasure ye forever and never let ye go.'

But that would never be, because they were both promised to others, and were tied by chains of obligation and duty. Cameron stamped his foot, growling. How had it come to this? Tomorrow was his betrothal day, and he wished with all his heart and soul that he was being joined to the woman he loved. Still, he thought, it was not a marriage, merely a temporary arrangement which could be broken. He would cling to that.

He went downstairs and threw himself on his bed, but when he closed his eyes, thoughts of Ava would not let him sleep. He knew what he had to do, and he pleasured himself while conjuring up images of her standing naked before him. Afterwards, he fell into a doze, but he did not sleep soundly until the hour before dawn, and he woke up with a headache and a feeling that he had been drunk the night before. He knew that it was a sign that bode ill for his betrothal day.

Ava had given Mary the day off on the day of Cameron's betrothal, even though the maid had protested. She wanted no one in her bedroom but her sisters in case she dissolved into tears.

"Are ye sure ye want to go, Ava?" Rona was concerned as she pulled a brush slowly down Ava's hair before plaiting it into a long plait which she then twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. "Will it no' be very hurtful for ye?"

"Very likely it will be, Rona," Ava replied grimly, "but I might as well become used to it. I will be seeing a lot o' him in the future, and I can't hide away forever. Neither can he. Let me get the whole thing over wi' an' I can cry myself to sleep afterwards. I promise ye both - once the worst is over I will be fine."

"Ava - why do ye no' just stay here?" Janet asked, looking into her sister's eyes anxiously. "Ye will make yourself ill if ye go."

"Aye, stay here," Rona urged. "We can go an' say you are sick or somethin'."

Ava shook her head firmly. "Thank ye both, but no. James is expectin' me an' I cannot let him down. Anyway, as I said, it will be painful, but it will pass." She stood up and turned to face her sisters. "Now, how do I look?"

"Beautiful," Rona and Janet said in unison, then they laughed and looked at Ava, who was wearing a teal blue linen dress with white and yellow flowers embroidered around the neckline, hem and wrists.

She had taken great care in picking out her outfit, since, despite all her resolutions, there was a small part of her that wanted Cameron to see what he was missing. Now, Ava squared her shoulders then took a deep breath and resolutely walked downstairs.

‘It will soon be over,' she told herself again and again. ‘Then I will be free of him forever.' Yet she knew she was lying. She would never be free of him. She would have to live with the pain of a broken heart for the rest of her days.

Davina was not happy either. She had taken a lot of trouble over her dress, but still found that it lacked something. She had driven her seamstress mad looking for the right lace to complement the soft, rose-pink velvet, but nothing had seemed quite right. Eventually, they had had to make do with a cream broderie anglaise trim with which Davina was not happy at all. It was tiny things like this that could spoil the whole day for her, since it meant that everything was slightly imperfect.

However, there was no time to do anything more about it, and she walked slowly and gracefully into the Great Hall, where the ceremony was being held. She pasted a smile on her face and moved up to Cameron, hoping she looked good enough to satisfy him. Little did she know that nothing she could do or say, however well she looked, could have made him happy. His heart belonged to Ava Struthers, and always would.

Cameron smiled at Davina tightly and held out his hand to take hers. He could see Ava in the crowd and wanted to run to her, but he could not. He looked down into Davina's beautiful deep dark eyes, and felt - nothing.

It was over, and Ava was still in one piece - just. All through the ceremony she had struggled to keep her composure, but now, finally it was over. She had heard Cameron say the words that finally shattered her heart.

"I, Cameron Dalziel-Lewis, promise that on this day next month, I will make you, Davina Mary Henderson, my wife."

"And I, Davina Mary Henderson, promise in one month to take you, Cameron Dalziel-Lewis, to be my husband."

Ava turned away and ran into the castle, where her betrothed still had a bedchamber, then threw herself onto the bed and broke down in a storm of weeping. It lasted for what felt like an hour, but she knew it was less, and when she sat up and wiped her eyes, Ava knew that she would not weep again.

Her heart would mend and her life would go on. She would have children, and gradually Cameron would merely become a fixture in her life, like a bookcase or a candelabra, which she could ignore. After a while, she might not notice him at all. Perhaps if she told herself this often enough she might believe it.

She splashed cold water on her face and looked in the mirror, then realised that she looked hideous, her eyes red and purple, her hair tousled and untidy. She would have to leave in such a way that no-one could see her, so she crept down the servants' stairs and out to the stable to fetch her horse.

She gave the stable lad sixpence to keep his mouth shut, and asked one of the guards to pass a message to her sisters, then borrowed one of the castle horses and rode back to the Henderson house. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep as soon as she lay down to rest.

When she woke up, Ava realised that it was midafternoon. She stretched and yawned, then went up to the window to look out. The sky was just beginning to be stained by the first faint pink of sunset, although it would be hours yet before dark.

Memories of the morning still stabbed her heart, but she felt a little calmer now as she looked over the low rounded hills of the Highlands of Scotland. They were covered with a hundred different shades of green grass and the white dots of sheep grazing on them. Here and there she saw copses of evergreens and fields of oats, rye and barley which were almost ripe and ready to be harvested, and the sight of the tranquil landscape soothed her.

However she became aware of the needs of her body quite abruptly as her stomach gave an almighty rumble. It was strange, she thought, that even at a time like this, when her heart was breaking, her body had needs that could not be ignored. She had heard of people pining away from sadness, but knew that it would never happen to her! She contemplated sending for a maidservant to bring her a meal, but she was not yet accustomed to ordering people around; it made her feel uncomfortable. Consequently, she decided to go down to the kitchen and fetch something for herself.

She was walking past her future husband's study when she heard his voice through the door, which had been left ajar.

"He is your betrothed!" he was growling, obviously talking to his daughter. "Why are you not beside him, tonight of all nights?" He sounded absolutely furious.

Ava heard Davina give a trembling sigh, and felt a little sorry for her.

"Because he sent me away," she answered bitterly. "He said that he had made a promise to me and he would keep it, but we were only to be married next month, and we would live together then and not before. I tried to change his mind, Father, I really did, but he would have none of it."

Ava heard his footsteps move farther away in the room, then there was a clink of glass as he poured them both a glass of wine.

"Another month," he said irritably. "And you will have to wait for a few weeks after that before you can kill him, otherwise it will look very suspicious, and in the meantime I will have to marry Ava Struthers. Mind you, that is something I am very much looking forward to!" He gave a low, dark chuckle. "But hear this, my girl. If you don't kill Cameron, I will kill you, so think on that!"

Before her legs buckled under her in shock, Ava took off down the corridor and dived into the little ante-room beside the front door. She was trembling with shock and fear, and her heart was hammering in her chest, since she was still unable to take in what James had said. Was he really going to have Davina kill Cameron, or had she perhaps misheard him? And how could he kill his own daughter? Even threatening to do so was monstrous! Ava was utterly incapable of understanding how anyone could do such a thing, but she could not deny the evidence of her own ears. Her husband-to-be was a potential murderer.

Was Davina a willing participant, or was she merely a pawn in her father's deadly game? Somehow Ava thought it was the latter, but it did not matter at that moment. She had to warn Cameron.