Page 72 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
“We need to eat,” Ava answered. “We can’t go on like this.”
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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 whenhe 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.
