‘I wasn’t!’ she said hotly. ‘I don’t want to be a lady. I canna think of anything worse.’

‘And he canna consider anything else! It’s his lot.’

She pressed her face into her knees, trying not to cry. Did he think she didn’t know that? She wet her face with the hot water, still shivering.

‘It’s as well that storm is coming,’ her father muttered from the other room, the shuttle constantly moving side to side with a rhythmic clack. ‘It’s time they went now, before things get ugly. There’s those that aren’t pleased by you carrying on.’

‘It’s none of the factor’s business!’ she cried, losing her temper.

‘I was talking about the minister!’ he shouted back. ‘He cares about the protection of your soul and not just your reputation!’

‘But I’ve done nothing wrong!’

‘The whole village saw you – cavorting on the beach, laughing and playing like you were bairns.’

‘And why shouldn’t we? I’ve just spent the last three days with him and his father. We’ve talked all the while. We’re friends.’ She could feel her voice becoming strained, the tears pressing, her emotion too high to keep pushed down.

‘We do not become friends with the likes of them. You mistook manners for something else and you’ve humiliated yourself and me. Not to mention Mathieson is livid, aye – you’ve dragged his name through the mud too.’

‘Why is it anything to do with him?’

‘He’s the laird’s man! He’ll report back on you getting high and mighty, being too familiar with the laird’s friends. You need to accept the natural order of things and understand where you belong. He’s not one of our kind and you’re not his, no matter how much you may like the look of one another. You can make eyes and play games but that’s not the foundation for a real life.’

‘No!’ A sob escaped her. ‘Supposedly I’ve to choose between Fin or Angus McKinnon or Donald or David MacQueen – but they’re all lumps! Angus is mean; Fin is timid; Donald is stupid and David’s clumsy. I’d have to spend my life either taking care of them or hiding from their fists.’

‘Nonsense! They have their faults but they’re good men who’d any o’ them make a fine husband. What makes you think you’re any better than the other lasses?’ he growled.

‘I don’t!’

‘No? Then why do you always have to have different rules applied to you?’

Tears were streaming down her face now. ‘I just want to be free to live my life, instead of having labels put on me! I can’t crag because I’m a girl? I can’t love him because I’m poor?’