Chapter 12

When Cameron arrived at the graveside that afternoon, he discovered that there was nothing there but a mound of freshly-dug earth and a simple wooden cross without an inscription. There was no sign of any mourners, and he could not find the minister either. Puzzled, he went into the church, but the only person he found was an old lady sweeping the floor. She looked up as he came in, but her expression hardened as she saw him, and as he walked towards her she clutched her broom across her body as if to defend herself.

"I came for the funeral of Colin Struthers," he told her. "Has it finished?"

"Aye, it has," she replied sourly. "It finished at noon. Ye are too late."

"But I was told it was to start much later!" Cameron protested. "I wanted to be here."

Just then, the minister, Reverend Sullivan, came out of the sacristy and into the main body of the church. He blanched when he saw Cameron, but since he had been seen, he could not avoid speaking to him.

"What happened?" Cameron was furious. "Ye told me the funeral was just after noon, an' now I find it is finished. Why did ye lie to me?"

"I am sorry, Cameron," the minister replied, looking ashamed. "But James Henderson came to see me an' threatened me an' my family if I didnae tell ye the wrong time."

Cameron was not only furious, but exasperated. All he wanted to do was live a simple life with the woman he loved. How had it become so difficult? "Was he at the funeral?" he asked.

"Aye. He stood at the back, an' he was very quiet," the minister replied. "When he left he shook hands wi' a' the girls then left straight away."

‘What is he up to now?'Cameron thought. Whatever it was, he had not done it out of respect for Colin Struthers, but for some nefarious reason of his own.

When work was finished for the day, the sisters sat down to a simple evening meal of vegetable stew and bread, but stopped halfway through when they heard a loud knocking at the door. Ava exchanged glances with her sisters. No-one ever came to visit at that time of night.

"Who is it?" Janet called.

"It's me - Cam. Can I speak to Ava please?" His voice sounded desperate.

"Ava does no' want to speak to ye," she replied. "An' ye can stand there shoutin a' night if ye like. Naebody will talk to ye, so clear off!"

"Just a few words. It will no' take a minute. Please." This time there was no mistaking the note of panic in Cameron's voice.

"Go away!" Janet's voice was a roar. "Don't come back!"

"I will be back," Cameron called, but his tone had changed to one of grim determination before they heard his footsteps moving away.

Ava once more burst into tears.

Cameron did not find it hard to be admitted into the castle any more; in fact, as soon as the guards saw his face, he was welcomed, despite the rags he was wearing.

"My God, Cam," one of the guards, said to him ruefully. "Ye fair look a mess. I thought the old man might have given ye a few new clothes tae wear."

"He doesnae care about the way I look," Cameron told the other man. "He only cares about his bloodline, as if I was a prize stallion." His voice was bitter.

"I would be very flattered if somebody said that tae me," he laughed and patted Cameron on the back. "Ye are a very lucky man!"

"If you say so." Cameron growled. "I am looking for James Henderson. Do you know where he is?"

"Aye," the guard growled. "Where he always is. In the Laird's study wi' his nose in the auld man's business. He is supposed tae have a study o' his own but he is hardly ever there." He almost spat the words out.

"Do ye no' like him, then?" Cameron asked, raising his eyebrows. However James Henderson treated him, Cameron had assumed that he had taken care to present a pleasant front to the servants. Perhaps he had given him too much credit.

"He is always nice enough tae your face," he said, screwing up his nose in disgust. "But he is sneaky. Somethin' doesnae sit right wi' me when I see him, an' he is always eyein' up the women, especially the young ones. They always stay clear o' him if they can."

Cameron said nothing, although he had always had the same feeling, but he strode towards the Laird's study and barged in without knocking. James Henderson was sitting at his desk, but the Laird was nowhere to be seen. Cameron glared at the man, but James merely stared back at him calmly.

"Good day, Cameron," he said, in a voice that was utterly devoid of expression.

"Is it?" Cameron asked. "Can't say I agree wi' ye, Henderson."

If James Henderson noticed the disrespectful use of his surname he said nothing, merely raised his eyebrows in a question.

"Oh, dear," he said sarcastically. "Sit down and tell me about it." He waved to a chair.

Cameron refused the invitation. He usually found his height to be intimidating, so he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stood looking down at Henderson, his turquoise eyes as hard as flint.

James Henderson leaned back in his chair a little, clenching his jaw, and tried to return Cameron's gaze, but a moment later he dropped his eyes to his hands and began to fiddle with a quill pen on the desk. His nervousness was apparent, as was his anger.

"Have you been interferin' in my affairs?" Cameron demanded. After a moment's silence, he thumped his fist on the desk. "Answer me!" he yelled. "Have you been talking to the minister an' tellin' him to change the time o' Colin Struthers's funeral?"

James looked up. "Yes, I did so," he admitted frankly. There was no shame in his tone at all and it infuriated Cameron.

"Why?" Cameron frowned at him. He was utterly at a loss as to why anyone would do such a seemingly pointless thing. "Was it just for spite?"

"Will you not sit down?" Henderson asked. "You are making my neck hurt."

"Good!" Cameron snarled. He bent down over the desk, leaning so close that he and Henderson were almost nose to nose. Henderson tried to shrink back in his chair, but he could not retreat any further.

"Why would ye do such a thing?" Cameron asked.

"Because you are marrying my daughter," Henderson replied. "And I do not wish you to be any closer than you already are to Ava Struthers, who is merely a farm girl - although a very pretty one, to be sure. She is not equal to your rank in society, or rather to the place you will shortly be occupying in society. You must realise that you are taking some very big steps up in the world, and you cannot be dragged down by a peasant."

"I am a peasant too!" Cameron yelled, making Henderson flinch and put his hands over his ears.

"You are at the moment," he agreed when his ears had stopped ringing, "but the Laird is dying, and when that happens you will take his place, and your social status will be elevated at once." he snapped his fingers.

"But I will still be a bastard," Cameron said bitterly. "He hates me, even now, an' I have no doubt that a' those society people will look down on me."

"But you will be married to my daughter," Henderson reminded him. "Your children will not be bastards, and you will have taken your father's name."

Cameron looked up at him in shock. "I will never take my father's name." His voice was grim. "I have borne my mother's name wi' pride a' my life, an' I will no' change it now."

"But you must!" Suddenly Henderson stood up, his whole face a mask of shock. "I will not have my daughter carrying the name of a peasant woman's illegitimate son!"

"Then marry her to someone else," Cameron said. "You know the woman I love. Let me marry her - she will no' care about her name. She understands me better than anyone."

Henderson smiled widely, but there was a strange glint in his eyes. Cameron felt as if a stone had dropped into his stomach for he was not going to like what Henderson was about to say.

"Ah, but she cannot do that, Cameron," he said, pausing for dramatic effect as he smiled, an oily smile that made Cameron feel nauseous. "You see, your beautiful peasant girl is going to marry me, and her name will be Henderson."

Cameron laughed out loud, but it was a hollow sound. "Did ye ask her?"

"Yes, I did," Henderson replied smugly.

"And what did she say?" Despite himself, Cameron knew what Henderson's next words would be.

"She said yes, of course," Henderson was now openly triumphant.

"You are lyin'!" Cameron roared, his face crimson with rage. "She would never say yes to the likes o' you!"

"You think not?" Henderson sat back in his chair and gave Cameron a satisfied smile. "Think of the advantages for her. She will not live here, of course, but at my house, a quarter of a mile away. I will provide for her sisters too, since it is within my means. She will have pretty clothes, a maidservant, fine food, and a husband who will dote on her. She will want for nothing."

"But ye will no' love her," Cameron pointed out. "She loves me an' I love her."

"We have discussed this before," Henderson pointed out, sighing. "I will tell you again. Love has nothing to do with marriage. She and I can be friends."

"Friends?" Cameron's deep voice was high with disbelief. "With you? She does no' even like ye."

"Then why has she accepted my proposal of marriage?" Henderson asked with an air of satisfaction. He was almost enjoying himself now.

"I don't believe she has," Cameron replied. "I believe ye are lyin'."

Strictly speaking, it was true, because Ava was still making up her mind, but Cameron did not have to know that. "Believe me or don't believe me." Henderson shrugged. "It matters nothing to me. You will see the truth when we are walking down the aisle to the altar. I will invite you to the wedding." He gave Cameron a smug, malicious smile.

With a supreme effort of will, Cameron kept his face expressionless. He had never wanted to smash someone's face in with his fist as much as he did at that moment, but he restrained himself, turned on his heel and left.

James Henderson poured himself a stiff whisky and drank it in one swallow, then poured another. His hands were shaking and sweat was trickling down the back of his neck. Cameron Dalziel was a big man, and although he had not been aggressive, he was threatening. He sighed with relief, then he began to make plans. He was sure of Ava's answer; she would say ‘yes' because she had to survive.

Cameron marched towards the stable and saddled Jimmy, ignoring everyone who spoke to him on the way out. He seemed to be in a permanent state of fury these days. In the last week, his whole life had begun to spin out of his control. However, he was going to make sure that things changed, or die trying.