Chapter 30
Cameron rode in the lift to the top floor of a modern office building in London and wished absently that he’d had a sword strapped to his back.
He had his own lads all over the building in various capacities, of course, but that didn’t do him much good if Nathan shot him right there in the boardroom.
He blew out his breath and bounced a time or two on the balls of his feet, just as he’d done for seventeen years of battle in medieval Scotland.
He stretched his hands over his head, flexed his fingers, then sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.
There was nothing he could do now except hope he could refrain from calling Nathan names long enough for Nathan to blurt out things he didn’t intend to in a fit of pique.
He walked down the hallway and went into Nathan’s offices. He was charming to Nathan’s secretary, an older woman whose mouth was perpetually drawn into a pucker of distaste. He couldn’t blame her. He grimaced when he thought of the man as well.
He pulled a small box of expensive chocolates out of his suit coat pocket and deposited them on her desk.
“Not poisoned,” he said with a wink.
She almost smiled; he was almost certain of it. She rose and showed him into the conference room.
“The best of British,” she said under her breath.
Cameron smiled, but if there was one thing he most certainly didn’t need, it was British luck.
He walked in and saw nothing that he hadn’t expected.
Nathan sat at the head of a long conference table, flanked by a cadre of lawyers Cameron suspected dealt only in hostile takeovers.
They had that sort of calculating, unfriendly look about them.
Cameron supposed if he’d had any sense, he would have been uneasy, but he’d been in like situations before and come away unscathed.
After all, what did he have to lose, in the end?
As long as he had his life, he could live quite happily in Moraig’s hovel with Sunny.
He could convince Patrick MacLeod to hire Madame Gies to cook at Benmore Castle and he and Sunny could mooch supper regularly.
He could chop wood and keep them warm. The money didn’t matter.
Of course, he had no intention of losing, but sometimes it helped to have a fallback position.
He came to a halt at the end of the table and looked at Nathan with a faint frown. “So many of your friends at this little meeting, Nathan, and so few of mine.”
“Sit down,” Nathan snarled. “This isn’t a social call.”
Cameron wandered over to the sideboard, looked for a bottle of water he was convinced hadn’t been opened—and he tried half a dozen that had been sealed but were sealed no longer after he’d had done with them—before he cast himself down carelessly in the chair at the opposite end of the table.
“Then what in the world could this be?” Cameron asked, taking a swig of his water.
“Your notification of bankruptcy.”
Cameron started to speak, then felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He held up a finger to Nathan, then answered the phone. “Aye?”
“Bugged,” Derrick said succinctly.
“What a surprise,” Cameron said dryly. “I’d love to chat, but I’m in a very important meeting right now.”
“Don’t staple his arse to the table, mate.”
Cameron laughed, then hung up and set his phone on the table. He looked at the lawyers, then at Nathan. “Bankruptcy?” he said, blinking innocently. “Is that all?”
Nathan gaped for a moment, then his expression hardened. “You think you’re so smart, Robert, but this is no jest. I’m filing paperwork in the morning to make a formal tender offer for Cameron Ltd. You won’t have control anymore tomorrow after noon, I imagine.”
Cameron put his hands on the table and manufactured a look of surprise. “But how can you force me into bankruptcy just by buying up a few shares of my company?”
Nathan shot him a look of fury. “Don’t be stupid.
I’m buying numerous shares of your company and when I have controlling interest, I’ll run it into the ground.
You’ll be so overextended, you’ll have to sell everything just to cover the debts that will be in your name.
You won’t have enough money to keep your precious hall yourself.
It’ll probably be bought up by some Yank with more money than sense who actually wants to live in Scotland. ”
“Ah,” Cameron said, with an exaggerated nod, “I see. Very clever of you. It begs the question why, though, doesn’t it?”
“To teach you your place,” Nathan barked, leaning forward, “among other things. You, daring to come south and sully my family with your uncouth self. I want you back in Scotland where you belong.”
“If you want me to go back to Scotland, it seems a little unsporting not to leave me my house then, doesn’t it?”
Nathan hurled a stapler at his head. Cameron shifted and it made quite an impression on what had been, a second before, a no doubt quite lovely crystal vase behind him. Cameron looked at Nathan’s lawyers.
“Can’t you control him?”
Nathan made noises of fury. The lawyers, to a man, began to shuffle paperwork importantly.
Cameron looked at Nathan thoughtfully. “Who gave you the idea to buy up so much of my company?”
“I planned it all myself.”
“Bollocks,” Cameron said bluntly. “’Tis one thing, Nathan, to hate someone; ’tis another thing to hate so fiercely you’re willing to risk your entire fortune—not that you have any of that left—on ruining a company the size of Cameron Ltd.
It would make more sense to take over my company and run it yourself—and line your pockets as a result.
There’s more to this than what you’re telling me. ”
“You’ll never know what it is,” Nathan said, “and it isn’t your company anymore. Not after tomorrow morning.”
Cameron rested his elbows on the table and studied Nathan for several minutes in silence.
Well, he was missing something and he was damned if he knew what.
Perhaps it was as Alex had said, that the whole assault was to vex him.
He couldn’t imagine what pleasure Nathan would take from that, but perhaps Nathan was simply incapable of sense and this was his madness on display.
Cameron suspected he could spend all day trying to understand that madness and it would be nothing but time wasted. Perhaps it was just best to put the final nail in the coffin and be finished. He put his hands on the table.
“Well then, let’s get down to it, shall we? Did any of your gaggle of solicitors think to bring a list of your shareholders along to this little parley? I understand there’s been quite a run on your stock of late. Especially this morning.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Of course, you idiot. How stupid do you think I am—”
Cameron was quite satisfied he knew just how stupid Nathan was, but there was no point in saying as much. He simply waited for his words to sink in.
They did, then Nathan slapped his hands on the table. “What do you mean, this morning?” he demanded. “What does that mean?”
Cameron looked at the men on either side of the table.
“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to find out who owns—after all the layers, of course—all those charitable trusts, endowments, and hedge funds who have been buying up so much of Ainsworth Associates over the past fortnight?
Actually, you can look for my name as well this morning on a rather substantial trade. I imagine I got quite a bargain.”
“What are you talking about?” Nathan said in a low, deadly voice. “Tell me, if you dare.”
“If you like,” Cameron said easily. “What your lads here will find after quite a bit of digging is that the twenty-five percent of your company that you no longer own was bought up by various entities that are, in the end, mine.”
“You didn’t,” Nathan said, his face mottled with rage.
Cameron looked at him coolly. “How stupid to you think I am, Nathan? I own controlling interest of your company now, which means you no longer have control of Cameron Ltd. Did you think I would allow you to ruin what my family has sacrificed for for generations, you pompous git?”
Nathan’s lawyers went scrambling either for documents or for their phones. Nathan stood up and started shouting at them. Even his secretary opened the door to see what the commotion was about. Cameron looked at her.
“How were the chocolates?”
“Lovely, Lord Cameron,” she said, the pucker turning into a species of smile. “Thank you.”
Cameron smiled at her, then turned back to look at the chaos in front of him.
He called out the names of a few charitable organizations, just to give the lawyers something to do, then realized his phone was buzzing.
He picked it up, then went to stand against the wall where the caterwauling wasn’t quite so loud.
“Cameron, where’s Sunny?”
Cameron had expected Derrick. It took him a moment to realize it was Patrick. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen Sunny yet. You’d said she would be home by ten and it’s quarter to eleven. Did you change your plans?”
“Nay,” Cameron said, finding that his heart was suddenly not beating very well. “Have you tried her phone?”
“Aye. She’s not answering, but that may be because she’s afraid to pick up and possibly wreck your car.”
Cameron took a deep breath. “Drive to Inverness for me—”
“I’m halfway there. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overreacting. ”
“Damn it,” Cameron said fiercely. “I should have locked her in your bloody guest chamber. If anything’s happened to her—”
“Don’t panic yet. I’ll do a little digging and get back to you.”
“Where are Madelyn and your wee gel?”
“At Jamie’s with him guarding the doors. I’ll keep going and ring you in a bit.”