Page 59 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
“I am sorry, Captain,” the man passed a hand over his forehead. He looked back at Cameron once more. “Thank you again,” he said, tossing a shilling in Cameron’s direction. As the other man walked over to his horse, Cameron noticed that his brother was considerably shorter and thinner than he was, and he felt a little stab of unholy glee. It was stupid, he knew, but in a man’s world, it was always better to be bigger, stronger and more intimidating.
Still, because he struggled every day for the very necessities of life, he resented the fact that the Brian Lewises of this world, even though they were smaller and weaker, were handed everything on a silver platter. He looked down at the coin in his palm. It was a pitiful amount, but it would keep him in food and drink for a few weeks.
When he mounted his horse and rode away, Cameron realized that the fellow had neither introduced himself nor asked Cameron his name. Now, however, he knew for certain the identity of the man with the golden-blond hair.
Ava watched the little cavalcade as it moved around the loch, curious to know who the dead body was. When she turned to speak to Cameron, she saw that he had stood up and his gaze was following them, a stricken look on his face. “Cam? What is wrong?” she asked anxiously. She cupped his face in her hands and looked up at his shocked expression. When his eyes met hers she could see the shine of tears in them. “Who is that?”
Cameron dashed the tears away from his eyes before they could fall, cursing himself for being such a milksop. Men did not weep, for if they did, they were not true men.
“Who is he?” Ava asked again. Her heart was thumping in her chest. Cameron was so dear to her that she could not bear to see him in such distress.
“I-I think he is my brother, Brian Lewis,” he replied at last.
“Oh, no!” Ava wrapped her arms around him, but he did nothing but stand with his arms at his sides. After his first tearful reaction, he felt absolutely numb.
“Were you close?” Ava had no idea if the brothers had ever had any kind of relationship, since he changed the subject every time she mentioned him or his father. “I mean, have you ever spoken to him?”
Cameron frowned deeply, suddenly furious. “I only met him once,” he answered bitterly. “I helped him when he fell off his horse, and he did not even ask my name. I think he recognised me, but if he did, he never said. I have no’ seen him from that day to this - until today.”
“Perhaps it is no’ him,” she suggested hopefully. “We did not see his face.”
Cameron nodded. A small flame of hope ignited in his heart, then he fought it down and asked himself why he should care. In his whole twenty-five years of life he’d had no connection with either the Laird or his son. The Laird despised him, and the feeling was mutual, so why should he want to find out about the identity of this corpse? Maybe the dead man was just a new guard he had not seen before who happened to have fair hair the same color as his own. It was possible.
Nevertheless, he was drawn by some compulsion to find out. If it was Brian Lewis, then he had been Cameron’s only brother, and the only one he would ever have. That had to mean something, he told himself.
“I must find out if it is him, Ava.” His voice was sorrowful, but grim. “I have no idea why, but I must.”
She nodded sadly. If it concerned Cameron, it concerned her. She might never become his wife, but she would always be his friend.
They traveled in silence, with Ava sitting sideways on the saddle in front of Cameron. This time there was no silent, shivering passion between them, since both were concentrating on finding out the identity of the dead man, and their minds were elsewhere. Cameron had never had any kind of relationship with Brian Lewis, but he knew that he would mourn him, not because he was his half-brother, but because of what might have been if the situation had been different.
They would not be allowed into the castle, of course, but as they rode up to the gate, they could see that there was already a smallcrowd of villagers waiting outside. Word had spread quickly that there had been some sort of accident involving the Laird’s son, and now everyone was hungry for a look.
Cameron rode to the edge of the little crowd, then stopped as he saw the Laird coming out of the main entrance. On horseback, he could see above the heads of all the villagers, and he watched as the limp figure of the dead man was gently lifted down from the saddle and placed on the ground. When the body descended below eye level, Cameron could not see his face, but when the Laird came out a moment later he knelt down beside the corpse and a moment later, they heard a howl of grief.
The people gasped, and moments later the soft sound of sobs and moaning could be heard amongst the crowd. They stood between Cameron and his father, Laird Lewis, and in front of them, a line of men-at-arms prevented any entry into the castle.
Cameron dismounted from his horse and Ava slid down after him. He had no trouble pushing his way through the little throng of villagers, but he did not even attempt to pass the heavily-armed guards. However, he could see through their line to the two figures on the ground. The Laird was cradling his son in his arms, weeping bitterly. They looked so alike that they could have been older and younger brothers, except that the Laird’s hair was almost white.
Suddenly Laird Lewis looked up straight into Cameron’s eyes. When their gazes met, the Laird’s expression changed from one of utter misery to fury, but Cameron’s face was so expressionless it might have been carved out of stone. When he turned and walked back through the crowd, many people stared and pointed at him, no doubt commenting on the startling likeness between him, the Laird, and his son.
Not many people knew with certainty that Cameron was the Laird’s son, although there had been much speculation, but seeing them all together in one place hardened the speculation into fact. Seeing was believing, it seemed.
Ava had seen the look that passed between the two men, and the glances of the villagers as they left. Cameron looked absolutely unperturbed by the hubbub around him, but she was not fooled. His brother’s death had affected him deeply, but he was not going to give the villagers of Kilcarron the satisfaction of seeing it.
5
The marriage between Brian Lewis and Davina Henderson, the daughter of the Laird’s steward, James Henderson, had been arranged for the following month, but now, instead of a wedding dress, Davina was wearing an outfit of deepest black. She was not devastated, but she was sad, because she had genuinely liked her betrothed, and had been looking forward to being his wife. When she first heard the news of his death she could not quite take it in, and it was not until she saw his still, pale body lying in the coffin that she finally managed to weep for him.
“He looks so peaceful,” she said to her father, just before the funeral service. “I hope they caught the man who killed him.” She reached out and touched Brian’s cheek then immediately recoiled. The skin was unnaturally cold and white, his lips were blue, and suddenly she could not bear to look at him any more. She turned and fled.
It was five days after the funeral, and Ross Lewis was exhausted. Not only had he lost his only son, but he was buried in the work of the estate, which kept him busy from dawn till past dusk. Even with the help of his excellent estate manager, James Henderson, there was still a mountain of work to be done.
However, he was grateful for the letters, and the endless problems with tenants, since it kept his mind busy, and was all that was keeping him from throwing himself off the highest point of the turrets.
Brian had been his whole life. When his physician had diagnosed the problem with his heart, he knew he would die in peace because his estate would pass into the safe hands of his son and heir. Now, because of a stray arrow fired by an incompetent huntsman, the life of his handsome, vibrant only son had been snuffed out just as he had been about to enter the next stage of his life.
The marriage to Davina had been proposed by James, and it was an inspired idea. Everyone would be happy, since Davina would have a husband, Brian a wife and both of them a fine home to live in. As well as that, if anything happened to Brian, James Henderson would be a family member, and would be able to help the young Laird to run the estate. It would all have worked out so neatly, but Brian’s death had snuffed out his every hope for the future, and now all Ross Lewis wanted to do was die.
