Cauldstane (34 page)

Zelda
got up and took Fergus in her arms, weeping and laughing. ‘I’m so thrilled for you both! I can’t tell you how cross I was when Rachel said no. But you’re going to beat it, Ferg. Beat that wretched,
stupid
curse!’

‘He’s already beaten it,’ Alec said, moving to his brother’s side to shake his hand. ‘Rachel’s pregnant. Congratulations, Ferg.
’ He clapped his brother on the back, then both men hugged each other.

Alec
made way for Sholto who pumped his son’s hand, but seemed too overcome to speak. Lastly, Rupert and I offered our congratulations. As I returned to my chair, I looked round for Alec and saw him standing gazing into the fire, his face solemn once more. As I watched, he lifted his head, then regarded me for some time without smiling, then said, ‘Jenny…’

‘
Yes? What is it?’

His expression softened.
‘My wee brother has shown me the way.’ He looked across at Fergus who was now busy texting Rachel. ‘I’ve no desire to steal your thunder, Ferg, but this was something I’d planned to do today. Your news and Meredith’s false accusations have convinced me the time is right for me to speak. But I confess, never in my life have I felt more fearful.’ He turned back to me and continued. ‘Jenny, I hope you’ll forgive the public nature of my declaration, but it seems important to say this in the presence of my loving family and in the Great Hall of Cauldstane.’ He picked up the claymore and walked slowly round the table towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reached my chair, he stood the sword on the floor, point downwards, then grasping the hilt, he kneeled at my feet. His face was now level with mine and close enough for me to see the amber sparks that lit up his grey eyes. They burned with an intensity that made me want to look away, but I held his gaze and watched rather than heard him say, ‘We haven’t known each other for very long, but there’s no doubt in my mind about the rightness of what I’m about to say. Jenny, would you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?’

There was a collective intake of breath, but no one spoke. My mouth fell open and my mind went blank. As I gazed
at Alec, stunned, I saw his resolution falter. Fear began to stalk him again. I was about to speak when there was a scream, followed by a loud crash on the stairs, then the sound of a woman crying.

Wilma.

Alec got to his feet and, still clutching the claymore, he headed for the door, with Fergus right behind him.

~

We found Wilma sitting on the stairs in front of Meredith’s portrait, sobbing and wiping her eyes with her apron. She was surrounded by the wreckage of the refreshments she’d been about to deliver. The vacuum coffee pot hadn’t spilled its contents, but the milk jug and sugar bowl had. Plates of sandwiches and cake were now scattered over the shabby stair carpet, together with crockery and cutlery.

Wilma looked up when she heard our footsteps on the stairs and struggled to her feet, sniffing. ‘I’m very sorry
, Mr Alec, but it’s poor Mrs. MacNab’s portrait. It’s been
vandalized
!’ She clapped a hand to her mouth, closed her eyes and started to cry again. Alec descended the stairs and, side-stepping the spillages, he put an arm round Wilma. Fergus picked up the big wooden tray and together we started to clear up the mess.

‘Sit down now, Wilma,’ Alec said in soothing tones. ‘You’ve had a shock, but it’s not as bad as it looks.’

Wilma was not mollified. ‘But the portrait’s
ruined
, Mr Alec! Someone’s done this deliberately.’ She pointed to the bisected figure of Meredith. ‘That’s no accident.’

‘You’re right, Wilma, it
was
done deliberately.’

‘J
ust mindless destruction! And it was such a beautiful portrait. The living image of Mrs MacNab. D’you think it could be restored?’

‘I’m sure it
could, but first you need to hear why I destroyed it.’

‘
You?
Och, Mr Alec – never say it was you!’ Wilma began to weep again.

‘Aye, it was me. And I used the claymore.’

The words turned Wilma’s tears off like a tap. She stared at Alec, wide-eyed. In a sepulchral whisper, she said, ‘You used the
claymore
? For the third time?... Mr Alec, are you unwell?’

‘No, Wilma, I’m fine. In better spirits than I’ve been in years. But there’s a lot I need to explain. When you feel steady
on your feet, I’d like you to come up to the library. Sholto and I need to talk to you.’

‘But why did you use the
claymore
? What will save the MacNabs now in their hour of need?’

‘D
on’t you worry now,’ Alec said with a smile. ‘I believe the claymore’s already done its work and the MacNabs will soon be out of danger.’

‘
Danger?
’

‘Aye. We’ve been living through some
rough times, Wilma, but I think the tide’s about to turn.’

‘That’s what Miss Jenny said.’
She summoned up a little smile and directed it at me. ‘She told me something was going on.’

‘We’re all indebted to Jenny – as you’ll hear in a wee while. Now,
don’t worry about the supper things, Ferg and Jenny will clear up. Jenny, could you make some fresh sandwiches and take them up to the Great Hall?’ Alec lifted his head and saw Sholto, Zelda and Rupert looking down from above. ‘Dad, would you and Zelda go to the library? You too, Ferg. I’d like to explain to Wilma what’s afoot. I think maybe she can help us.’

As Alec
took Wilma’s arm, he turned to me and said in an undertone, ‘I meant what I said, Jenny. Please consider my proposal.’

U
nable to think of any suitable response, I called up the stairs, ‘Rupert, could you come and give me a hand in the kitchen?’

‘Certainly.’ He
trotted downstairs, relieved Fergus of the heavy tray and continued on down to the kitchen.

I watched as Alec helped
Wilma up the stairs. When Sholto met her on the landing, she began to apologise again, but he cut her off with a question. ‘Tell me, Wilma – were you very fond of Meredith? Is that why you’ve kept her room just as she left it?’

I lingered on the stairs, listening
to Wilma’s anxious reply. ‘I hope you didn’t mind, Mr Sholto, but you never asked me to clear out her room. And it didn’t seem right to let it get dusty. Mrs MacNab couldn’t bear dust! She said it was very bad for her voice.’

‘That’s fine, Wilma. I’m just sorry you made extra work for yourself.’

‘Och, it was no bother. It was a pleasure to look after her lovely things. Mrs MacNab was so good to me. So generous. She gave me wee presents – things she had no use for – and one Christmas she presented me with a signed photograph – in a frame!’

‘
Indeed?’

‘She once said I was like a sister to her. An
older
sister.’

‘You
and Meredith were born in the same year, Wilma.’

‘Is that so? Well, of course, Mrs MacNab looked so much
younger
. I’ll never forget her, Mr Sholto, nor the terrible way she died. When I saw the portrait just now, ripped in two, it made me think of what happened… I just don’t understand how Mr Alec—’

‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Sholto said as he opened the library door. ‘Come in and sit down. We need to talk to you about Meredith. Things are not quite as they seem. And I’m afraid
, Wilma, it’s my duty to inform you that you must prepare yourself for a shock. For several shocks…’ There was a whimper from Wilma, then the door closed.

As I went
downstairs to the kitchen, I considered the latest developments. We’d found the person whose devotion kept Meredith tethered to Cauldstane, but the thought uppermost in my mind was the proposal I’d received from Cauldstane’s heir. Was I prepared to tether myself to his ancestral home? And could I accept – or decline – without telling him the truth about Imogen Ryan?

CH
APTER THIRTY-ONE

Rupert and I made sandwiches in silence. It was the middle of the night, we were very tired and we both needed space in which to think. We’d made an impressive stack of sandwiches before Rupert finally broke the silence with the question I’d been expecting.

‘You haven’t told Alec
, have you? About Imogen Ryan.’

‘Yes, I have. Well,
actually, he recognised me. His wife used to read my novels. In hardback. So he’d seen my photo. But he doesn’t realise… the implications. Well, I assume he doesn’t. I don’t think he’d have proposed if he’d known.’

‘So will you enlighten
him?’

‘O
nly if I accept.’

‘
You think you have to tell him?’

‘Well, if I don’t,
I think he’ll withdraw when he finds out.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘No, I’m not sure. But Alec’s a proud man. I’m sure he wouldn’t have proposed if he’d known.’

We fell silent again while
I poured milk into a jug and put sugar in a bowl. Rupert cut up the sandwiches with mathematical precision, then arranged them on plates, alternating white and brown bread. He stepped back to admire his arrangement, then washed his hands at the sink. ‘My goodness, this water’s freezing!’

‘It’s winter in the Highlands
. You can die of old age waiting for the hot water to come through. Use the water in the kettle.’

‘No, this is very bracing. It’ll keep me awake for a few more hours.’ He took a tow
el from the Aga rail to dry his hands and said, ‘Do you love Alec enough to marry him?’

‘
This is turning into an inquisition, Rupert.’

‘Sorry. I was just curious. He’s clearly potty about you.’

‘How on earth can you tell?’

‘
I’ve married a lot of couples. You can tell who’s in love and who wants a big white wedding.’

‘Well, yes
, since you asked. I think I do love him enough to marry him.’

‘But
do you love him enough to take on this place?’

I looked round the dingy barn of a kitchen
, with its huge arched fireplace, cracked floor tiles, chipped paint and mushroom-coloured walls. ‘Yes, I do. I love Cauldstane almost as much as I love Alec.’

Rupert shrugged. ‘Well, it all seems perfectly clear to me. You should accept.’

‘But I do have to tell him.’

‘Oh, yes
, at some point. But I think you should accept his proposal first. In any case, I doubt a gentleman would withdraw a proposal of marriage just because of… unforeseen circumstances.’

‘And you think Alec is a gentleman?’

‘Most definitely. And I
think
,’ Rupert said carefully, ‘he’s also a realist. Don’t you?’

‘Apart from believing in ghosts
. And the magical power of an ancient sword. Yes, I think he is.’

‘Good. That’s settled then.
’ Rupert beamed and rubbed his chilled hands together. ‘I look forward to dancing at your wedding. Now, shall we take these sandwiches upstairs? I imagine everyone will be in need of fortification by now. Especially poor Wilma.’

He loaded
the tray and we started the climb upstairs to the Great Hall.

~

We found the MacNab men seated in silence at the table. All three looked as if someone had just died. Alec sat with his head resting on the back of his throne-like chair, staring at the ceiling. As we entered the Hall, he looked up and I smiled. The relief that flooded his face might have been occasioned by the sight of coffee and sandwiches, but I thought it was probably a response to me. To normality. To a possible future without Meredith.

Rupert poured coffee and I delivered it to the MacNabs, who
murmured their thanks. As I deposited a cup in front of Alec, I laid a hand on his shoulder and his hand came up quickly to touch mine. Hearing the sound of footsteps in the corridor, he got to his feet and, as I took my place at the table, he walked round behind me and pulled out the next chair for Wilma, so she would be seated between me and Rupert.

Wilma entered leaning on Zelda’s
arm. She had removed her apron, but her hair was awry and her face ravaged by tears. Zelda sat her down and Rupert poured another cup of coffee. He placed it in front of Wilma, together with the milk jug and sugar bowl, but she just stared at them, dazed, as if she’d been presented with the Japanese tea ceremony. I knew how Wilma liked her coffee, so I added milk and sugar, stirred and nudged the cup towards her. She seemed to come to then and whispered, ‘Thank you, Miss Jenny.’ When she picked up her cup, her hand trembled and coffee slopped into the saucer.

Wilma now
looked every one of her sixty years. Her usually bright eyes were dull and pink-rimmed with crying. I wanted to give her a hug, but I knew any overt show of affection might shatter her fragile composure. What Wilma wanted most right now was to hang on to her dignity.

My laptop sat in front of me, closed. I knew as soon as I lifted the lid I
’d see Meredith’s last message, or perhaps a new one. I experienced a strong urge to take the laptop to the window and hurl it into the river, but just then, the overhead lights flickered and one of the candles guttered and went out. Meredith was rattled and I smiled inwardly.

Sholto leaned forward and broke a long silence. There was an unexpected tenderness in his voice as he addressed the woman who
’d served his family all her working life. ‘Wilma, is there anything you’d like to say to the assembled company? I’m sure I speak for Jenny and Rev. Sheridan when I say we’re all heartily sorry to have to involve you in these proceedings, but I know you very well. I know you’d want to do all you can to free Cauldstane and the MacNabs from what I’m afraid I must call the forces of evil.’ Wilma said nothing, but raised her eyes to regard Sholto with something like adoration. ‘I know things seem pretty grim at the moment, but this is – literally – the darkness before the dawn. I’m confident that between us, we shall overcome all obstacles, but it might be a painful process.’ He paused, then said, ‘Feel free to speak, Wilma, if you so wish. But I must inform you that we believe Meredith’s spirit is present in the room and able to hear what we say and observe what we do.’ Wilma sat up in her chair and gazed round the room in alarm. ‘Don’t be frightened. She has no power to harm us. She’s really no more than a particularly malicious poltergeist, but she’s able to communicate with us via Jenny’s laptop, so whatever you say could elicit some sort of response. Another power cut. Or she might type something nasty on the laptop.’

Wilma’s lower lip began to quiver. Alec got up, retrieved the claymore from the hearth
where he’d set it, and walked round to Wilma’s chair. He crouched down beside her and said, ‘Hold the claymore, Wilma. It will make you feel strong. And while you’re holding it, Meredith cannot harm you. With the sword in your right hand and a minister on your left, you’re unassailable.’ He laid the sword on the table so Wilma could touch the hilt.

‘Thank you Mr Alec. You’re very kind.
I’d like to say something – if I may.’ She cast an anxious look at Sholto, who nodded.

‘Go ahead, Wilma. Say what
needs to be said.’

As Alec returned to
his seat, Wilma placed her right palm on the hilt of the claymore. She paused to gather herself, then said, ‘I wish to apologise to you all for any part I have played in prolonging the suffering of the MacNabs. As most of you know, I’ve dedicated my life to serving this family and…’ Wilma lowered her eyes. ‘I have loved Mr Alec and Mr Fergus as if they were my own bairns. I loved and served both Mr MacNab’s wives. All I’ve ever wanted was to make his life run smoothly and happily.’

Wilma seemed to struggle
, then she surveyed the company and continued with a tearful smile. ‘There has been so much love in this family! But I see now there has also been hate. Deceit. And betrayal. I’ve kept the memory of Meredith MacNab in my heart, just as I have cherished the memory of Elizabeth MacNab, my first mistress. But I hereby renounce my misplaced loyalty and affection. I curse the memory of Meredith MacNab and I pray that God will deliver us from this evil enchantment and send her spirit to… wherever it belongs.’

The wind howled in the chimney and another cloud of smoke enveloped the MacNab men where they sat with their backs to the fire. Sholto began to cough and Zelda got up and opened a window.
Leaning back in her chair, Wilma folded her hands in her lap and turned to me. With a nod in the direction of the laptop, she said, ‘What does she have to say to that?’

‘Are you sure you want to know, Wilma? She’s abused Sho
lto and said many dreadful things.’

‘I think this is between M
rs MacNab and me now, so I’d like to know what I’m up against. What can she do to me? If she took my life, it’s only something I’d give gladly in the service of the MacNabs. But Mr Alec says she can’t harm me and I believe him. My conscience is clear. I’ve done nothing wrong. But
she
has betrayed my loyalty – in life and in death.’

I opened the laptop and looked at the screen. There was no message from Meredith. Had we beaten her?
... I was about to share the good news when the cursor stopped winking and letters started to appear.

Well, that was a nice little speech. I didn’t realise you had it in you
, Wilma. But you’ve been a teeny bit economical with the truth. Your devoted service to the MacNabs isn’t quite what it seems, is it? Sholto is and always has been the love of your pathetic little life. Did you think I didn’t know?

I looked up from the screen and said, ‘
Wilma, I think you’d better read this first. Meredith’s written something that, even if it’s true, you might not wish to make public.’

‘Read it, Jenny. I have nothing –
nothing at all
– to hide. If she’s written something that shames me, it’s not true.’

I read out Meredith’s latest attack. No one moved or spoke until Sholto, visibly
shaken, said, ‘Wilma – my dear – is this true?’

‘Aye, it is. I’ve never loved another man. But the fact that you didn’t know, Mr Sholto, is proof I’ve never done or said anything to be ashamed of. I never wanted you to know, but since the cat’s out of the bag, I’ll not deny the truth of Mrs MacNab’s words.’ Wilma cast her eyes sideways to the laptop and said with disdain, ‘I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction!’

‘But Wilma, if you have indeed always loved me…’ Sholto paused and his blue eyes were bright with tears. ‘Why on earth did you turn down my proposal? You could have been –
should
have been – the second Mrs MacNab.’

Zelda made a
gulping noise and pulled out her handkerchief. Fergus stared at his father open-mouthed, but Alec watched Wilma, unblinking.

‘It’s a decision I’ve never regretted, Mr Sholto. Not until today. After the first Mrs MacNab
died, you were in a terrible way. You couldn’t cope. You relied on me to look after the boys and keep things running smoothly. And I think I made a fair job of that.’

‘You were magnificent, Wilma.
I don’t know how we’d have managed without you.’

‘We worked together closely, Mr Sholto
, as you know. We became friends, almost. When the worst of your grief was past, it was natural you should want a mother for the boys and someone to help you run Cauldstane. And that’s why you proposed to me. Because I was a suitable candidate for the job. But you didn’t love me, did you?’

‘No, Wilma. I didn’t… Not then.’

It was a moment or two before Wilma could speak. When she did, her voice was low and hoarse with suppressed emotion. ‘I believed there was a higher goal in life than personal happiness. That was the happiness of those I loved. It was clear to me I could still serve you and the boys without being married to you and if I turned you down, it would leave you free to find a woman you truly loved. I believed Meredith Fitzgerald to be that woman. When you announced your engagement, I was pleased because I hoped and believed she’d make you and the boys happy. In that I was deceived, but I meant all for the best. I could never have married a man who didn’t love me, Mr Sholto. I have my pride. And I’d seen how much you loved your first wife, how you grieved for her. I’d had little enough experience of love, but I knew the real thing when I saw it.’

‘I w
as a damned fool!’ Sholto exclaimed. ‘But heaven knows, I’ve paid for my folly. Unfortunately, others have paid for it too. It’s true I didn’t love you when I proposed. Your analysis of my motives was quite correct. It appears you knew me better than I knew myself. I was a fool again when I realised, years ago, after Meredith died, that I
did
in fact love you. I should have proposed then, but I feared if I did, you might turn me down again and give notice. You see, I thought you’d only stayed on to look after the boys. I didn’t realise…’ Sholto exhaled and shook his head. ‘What a hideous mess...’ Then slowly his expression changed. When he looked up, I saw hope in his eyes. ‘But I’m going to put things right! It’s never too late, is it, to do the right thing?  Look here, Wilma, I’d like you to reconsider my offer – ah, but do bear in mind I might not be making you mistress of Cauldstane. If Jenny’s business plans come to naught, our home could be a humble bungalow. But wherever I end my days, I’d be mad to think I could manage without you, even for a week. You’ve bailed me out before and I’m going to have the damn cheek to ask you if you’ll do it again. What do you say?’