Page 73 of Sighs of the Highland Wind

“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 andstood 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 mustrealise 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 Cameronfeel 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.”