“I never liked Abigail much. She was always a difficult child. Always speaking her mind when women weren’t supposed to have one. Fighting my decisions with every breath she had, even until a moment before her wedding to Elliot. The whore still didn’t want to do right by me. Then to face years of her broken mind and mute tongue! Fragile of soul she was after her wedding to Elliot, so unlike the lioness she was before. To tell you the truth,” Haynsworth said, smiling, “Those years weren’t so bad, because she was unable to speak.
“She was a difficult daughter, though my men tell me that she wasn’t too difficult after the battle. No,” Haynsworth said, with a shake of his head. “You should have seen what my men did to her once they took her away.” He saw a flicker in Cameron’s eyes, and continued with his barbs.
“I was told she would have moaned had the whore been awake to enjoy it.” Haynsworth taunted, laughing at the veins twitching on Cameron’s neck. “The beard…was that for her?” he taunted.
“Is that all Haynsworth?”
To any, Cameron’s stance looked casual, almost disinterested, but a closer look into his eyes showed pure fury.
“Nay. Your father was a bastard as well. He was so God damned dim-witted. How could he think that I would give up an opportunity to kill him? He was an easy kill, too.”
“If ye’re finished, Haynsworth,” Cameron shouted, his voice steel and icy. “I would like to kill ye before tomorrow.”
Haynsworth laughed and charged at Cameron. Haynsworth proved to be skillful at swordfight. He parried and deflected a great many of Cameron’s blows.
“She deserved to burn you know,” Haynsworth said, breathless from exertion. “Her burial cannot be completed on sacred ground. She’d birthed the devil’s spawn. My man should’ve run it,” he said the word as if it were blasphemy, “through with his sword.”
Cameron’s nostrils flared but ignored the taunts, and came at him with more strength. Within minutes, Haynsworth lost his footing in the mud. He was trying to return to get to his feet and was surprised that Cameron hadn’t pierced his chest with his sword.
“Are you nay going to take the advantage?” Haynsworth asked, horribly out of breath.
“I want no advantage when I kill ye. A courtesy ye didna extend to my father, ye damn coward.”
Haynsworth stood and balanced himself despite being fatigued. Cameron charged Haynsworth. Haynsworth managed to deflect three consecutive blows, but failed to block the fourth. Haynsworth looked down in surprise as Cameron’s sword cut through the side he’d inadvertently left open. Haynsworth fell to his knees and then onto his back. It was not a lethal blow, and that worried Haynsworth more than if it had been.
Cameron’s face appeared above his. Haynsworth’s eyes met Cameron’s.
“At last, Haynsworth, ye will meet yer maker. Say hello to the devil for me. Mayhap I willna be so far behind ye.”
Haynsworth half-smiled. “Your wife is there as I speak.”
Cameron slammed on his knees, and grabbed hold of Haynsworth’s shoulders. Shaking him violently, he asked, “Where is she?”
He laughed. ‘You’re too late! She didn’t die that day.”
Cameron stopped breathing.
He knew she hadn’t.
“The blow my man struck hadn’t killed her. I intended to punish him for the failure before I realized it would be to my advantage. I could gain something in my favor.”
Cameron shook him savagely. “Where. Is. My. Wife!”
Haynsworth’s head hit the muddy ground underneath several times. After his head stopped spinning, Haynsworth laughed and spat in Cameron’s face. It did no good, for the rain washed it away. Only Cameron’s form blocked out the onslaught of water from the sky.
“You’re…too…late!” A series of coughs shook his body. He ended the coughs with more laughter. “She was…to marry…today. But…this morning…she dove out…of her…window.”
At Cameron’s look of horror, Haynsworth erupted in laughter that could only be described as genuinely gleeful. He was fairly basking in giving Cameron the news.
“Nay.”
Haynsworth coughed. “Oh, no, aye. Aye. AYE!” His throat convulsed into coughs. “She’s dead. DEAD! And…I’ll…see…her……in…hell!”
Cameron’s veins bulged underneath his skin. His face contorted into one of fury and rage. His roar went on for several minutes. It was soul-wrenching, communicating with it all of his anger and pain.
Cameron snapped.
His massive hands curled around Haynsworth’s throat. Haynsworth’s eyes opened in surprise and his hands came up to Cameron’s wrists. Haynsworth began thrashing and kicking, looking like a fish out of water.
“This is what I’ve been wanting for over a decade,” Cameron growled. “The pleasure of yer neck in between my hands as I squeeze the life out of ye.”
Cameron released a bellow of a decade’s worth of frustration, anger, and rage as he squeezed his enemy’s neck.
“This is for my wife…and my…father!”
Haynsworth’s eyes bulged and slowly, he stopped fighting.
Time seemed to slow even though the rain had not. Cameron made sure to watch every second that the life was drained from his eyes. Haynsworth’s life slowly left him. Cameron sat back on his knees for a moment of reflection.
Ten years had been distilled into this moment.
And he wanted to savor every second of it.
Aidan and Keith cautiously approached him. They, too, had felt the satisfaction at Haynsworth’s death.
“Cameron, our task is completed here. Let us leave, Brother.”
The rain was beginning to slow. Cameron showed no indication that he’d heard Keith.
“Cameron?”
Aidan tried to take Cameron out of his thoughts. He and Keith looked at one another, uncertain how to proceed. If Cameron had indeed snapped, it would take ten men to knock him out and carry him home.
“I want her body. I willna leave without it.”
The urge to cover their ears was overwhelming. Cameron’s tone was full of bitter rage and mournful sorrow. Those few words and their tenor had the effect of crushing the souls of his brothers.
The rain halted just as Cameron stood.
“Her mother,” Cameron added after a moment of silence. “Search for Diane. Offer her the freedom and choice my wife was never given.”
Cameron walked away.
“Where are ye going?”
“I need a moment,” he said without stopping.
It wasn’t too long after that that Cameron returned. Where he was, they didn’t know. He looked like death. The life that had inhabited their brother’s body was no longer there. His eyes were lifeless. Even his walk was purposeless.
Keith stepped forward.
“Trystan.”
Cameron looked at him. “What about my son?”
Keith’s face was fierce. “Ye doona slide into that place, Cameron. Get yerself out of there.”
“What place?”
“The one where ye wish ye were dead because the love of yer life is gone.” He grabbed hold of Cameron’s shoulders and shook him. “We willna let ye give into the lure of living there. Ye have a son, and one who needs ye. Ye may not want to fight to live for yerself, but ye keep placing one foot before the other, and live for him.”
Cameron’s eyes finally met Keith’s. They shared a long moment of understanding. Keith gripped the back of Cameron’s neck and brought him close for an embrace.
“We will always be here to support ye, Brother. Ye’re nay alone.” He patted Cameron’s back as Cameron nodded.
“Keith?”
Keith turned.
“We were unable to find the lady’s mother. Some servants indicated that she did not fare well after her daughter’s…” He stopped speaking at Keith’s shake of his head.
They shared a look and the man returned to the group.
“Let us go from here, Cameron. Let us go home to our family and sons.�
�
“Her body, Keith. I willna leave without it.”
Keith exhaled but he nodded his head. He called over a small group and ordered them to search for her.
“Where are ye going?”
“To find my wife.”
Aidan and Keith shadowed Cameron. They’d asked servants, some of who ran at seeing them approach.
It was nearly morning before they called a halt.
“She isna here, Cameron. None of the servants know where the body was taken. God only knows what Haynsworth did with her.”
Cameron’s breathing grew heavy. They had literally scoured the whole area, and were unable to unearth anything regarding the whereabouts of Abby’s corpse.
“I canna imagine how ye feel, and hope to never know, if I’m being honest. I doona tell ye this lightly. We must go. We’ve done everything we could.”
Cameron folded his lips over his teeth. He looked up at the sky. The sun was rising over the carnage, almost as if it was purifying the land from the horrors that took place hours earlier.
“Aye.”
At once, they gathered their men. Mounting on his warhorse, Cameron surveyed the standing structure of Haynsworth’s home and the frantic people running about. He prayed that at last his father and wife had found the peace they so deserved.
They set out on their return journey home.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
They rode quickly. Every one of the men wanted this part of their lives to come to an end.
Cameron raised his fist in the air. They halted. He turned to Keith and Aidan and communicated silently. Cameron’s eyes searched for Rory, and waived two fingers in front of his eyes and pointed. Rory nodded and dismounted his horse, disappearing into the trees. They waited there mere moments before they saw his return. Cameron dismounted to speak to him. Aidan and Keith followed suit.
“I count twenty Englishmen.”
“Soldiers?”
“Aye, Laird.”
“What are they doing journeying to Scotland?”
Cameron was silent for a moment. “I doona know, Keith.”
“Are they dispersed over the terrain or in a group for a respite?”
“Nay, Laird. They’re moving on horseback in one large group, seeming as if they’re protective of something. They are vigilant and moving quickly.”
The brothers shared a look.
“This is what we will do. Keith, take one hundred men, and surround them on the eastern side. Make a wide path around them so they do not hear ye. The same goes for ye, Aidan, only on the west.” He paused and looked at Rory. “Ye, my friend, stay behind the English.”
Surprise lit Rory’s eyes at the honor Cameron was bestowing on him.
“Aye. Ye’ve been a great warrior, Rory. Lead one hundred behind them. I will take the remaining men, and ride at a neck-breaking pace to bypass them and meet them at the front. I doona know what brings them into Scotland, but it cannot be anything good.”
The men nodded and broke the warriors up accordingly. Cameron moved his contingency forward and rode like birds soaring in the sky.
“Halt!”
The English leader was the one who spoke. The small group stopped and looked around as the trees seemed to move, giving way to hundreds of Scottish warriors.
“Damn it.” English leader swore.
“Ye’re surrounded. State yer purpose before we retaliate.”
The leader looked at Cameron. “We seek passage through the land to Laird MacPerson.”
“What purpose d’ye have to seek me?”
The leader’s eyes widened, and he squinted in an effort to see Cameron better.
“We’ve something of yers,” he stammered.
At their leader’s nod, the soldiers parted. In the middle of them were three women on horseback. Cameron’s eyes identified Diane immediately. Next to her was another woman, whose hair was in disarray. She gripped what look like a poppet in one hand. On the other side of the woman, was an older woman whose appearance was neat and tidy.
Cameron dismounted and approached Diane as if the enemy hadn’t been paces away.
“Diane. I am relieved ye are alive.” His smile reflected true warmth. It was difficult to look at her, for Abby had born a striking and uncanny resemblance to her mother.
The woman in the middle shook her head. Diane spoke soft words to her. She then smiled at Cameron as if she had wanted nothing more than to see him. Even though she remained atop the horse, they were at eye level.
“Laird?”
He patted his beard and smiled sheepishly. “I vowed to nay shave my beard until I was reunited with my wife.”
Diane breathed a sigh of relief that had Cameron widening his eyes. Though he had a beard, looked bronzer, and was larger than she remembered, it was in fact the MacPherson laird her daughter had married- Cameron.
“We were on our way to ye.”
Cameron’s eyes assessed the group. “I am relieved that ye have many soldiers to assist and protect ye in this journey. I regret that I must tell ye, although I doona regret my actions, that yer husband is dead.”
She half-smiled, and her eyes reflected the mixed emotions. “He was not the man I married long ago. Greed and power became his obsession at the expense of my daughters. I am relieved that ye survived that day months ago, Laird.”
“Ye may address me as Cameron, Diane. At the verra least call me so since we were once tied together by our love for Abigail.”
Cameron kept noticing the middle woman’s head cock to the side when he spoke.
“Once?”
Cameron’s eyebrows furled as he took note of her question.
“Ye knew I survived that day? Yer husband knew not.”
“Allow me to explain, Laird.” The English leader spoke. “My loyalty to Haynsworth knew no bounds until his zeal for power and manipulation turned onto my wife, as did his fists.”
“Mills?”
“Aye, sir. I suppose you heard of me.”
“Aye. Ye defected and reported yer overlord to the Crown.”
He looked at the woman at the end who Cameron was unable to identify. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my wife. He overstepped his limits. But I wouldn’t call what I did as defecting.”
Cameron nodded in understanding. “He crossed many lines. But how did ye know I was alive, Diane, yet yer husband had no knowledge?”
“You see,” Mills said. “He was not privy to my actions. I remained at his side after, and despite, my confessions to the Crown. To clarify, Laird, I was not there the day he killed your father. I was loyal to him, but not blindly so.” He paused. “I feigned my loyalty after speaking to the Crown. When I discovered rumors that ye lived, I kept that information from him believing it would serve a future purpose. I only disclosed that information to my most trusted soldiers,” he said, and nodded to those around them. “And my instincts proved to be true. It had indeed provided a good advantage.”
Cameron nodded. “Aye. My thanks to ye, Mills.” His eyes turned sad and moved to Diane.
“I was told Abigail died that day on the battlefield, Diane. In my heart, I knew that she lived. It took me a great deal of time and effort to recover from my wounds that day. I journeyed here with the purpose of vengeance and to retrieve my wife, who my men thought dead.” He paused, and Diane sat up straighter at the look in his eyes.
The woman in the middle grabbed Diane’s hands. Her fingers looked dirty. It was the only part of her he could see, as she wore long sleeves.
“Tell me this. Did they…use her…after the battle?”
“Use her?”
Cameron swallowed, finding it difficult to ask whether his precious wife had been raped. “Haynsworth told me that his men made use of Abby.”
One look in his eyes and Diane understood what he was asking. She shook her head.
“Nay, Cameron. When she arrived, there was no indication that anything cruel had been done upon her body.”
Cameron exhaled in reli
ef.
“I was told that Abigail threw herself from a window. Thus, ye can understand that after such a long period of denying that she’d died that night, and discovering today that I had only just missed the opportunity to rescue her…I am beside myself with grief.” His voice was gruff and he cleared it twice before he was able to continue. Cameron stopped and inhaled slowly, pursing his lips as he looked away. After a moment, his eyes returned to hers and she saw tears forming in his.
“‘Tis the truth, I wouldna still be alive were it not for our son awaiting my return. He is now the only purpose for which I breathe.”
Diane smiled and looked to Mills. “It was successful.”
Cameron’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two. “I am not understanding what cause there is for smiling, Diane.”
She nodded to Mills. “Allow me to show you.”
Mills dismounted and walked over to them. He helped Diane down, and then he and another man helped the middle woman down. Immediately she went to Diane and stayed by her side. She clutched the poppet to her chest.
“Come.”
She guided the woman towards Cameron.
“Diane, I doona understand what ye are about-”
His words fell away as the woman stood straighter. Cameron’s eyebrows furled in curiosity. He looked closely at the doll, which was in fact a boy doll with black threads for hair.
He stepped back with wide eyes when she spoke.
“Where is my son?” she asked. “Where is he? They’ve taken him,” she said, horrified. “Mama! Where is my son?” she screamed, bringing her left empty hand to her face.
Diane could only look over to her daughter and hug her. Her mournful eyes met Cameron’s widening ones.
Frustrated and angry that she received no response, Abby turned around to face her mother. She clasped both her hands to her chest. Gripping them fiercely, she shouted, “Where is he? They took him!”
She turned to Cameron again, and something registered in her eyes when she looked at him through her hair. She quickly moved closer to him, still clutching the doll to her chest. She stopped and whipped her head back to stare into his stunned silver eyes.
Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3) Page 27