Mathew's Tale (26 page)

‘Certainly, sir.’ The man turned slowly.

One long stride brought Cleland within Mathew’s reach; he seized him by the lapels of his coat, lifted him up, and butted him with his lowered forehead, hard, between the eyes. Then he let him fall.

‘That,’ he murmured, ‘is what Napoleon’s soldiers came to call the “Scottish Kiss”. Some were said to prefer being shot.’

Blood poured from the baronet’s nose as he struggled unsteadily to his feet. He grabbed a handkerchief from a pocket to staunch the flow.

‘There will be a duel,’ he mumbled. ‘I will have satisfaction.’

‘I have told you before how that would end. Gentlemen,’ he called out, ‘you may look on once more, having seen nothing. Anyway,’ he added, ‘duels are about honour and you have none to defend, Gavin. Now sit down, plug your nose, and your trap along with it.’ He pushed him, with just enough force to send him backwards into a chair.

‘The fact is, sir, you are the most dishonourable man I have ever met. You are a murderer, twice over to my knowledge. You are, forgive my language, Lizzie . . .’

‘Do not mind me,’ she said, bewildered but cheerfully.

‘. . . a hoormaster, a rake, a drunkard and a general all-round dissolute. You are also extremely stupid, to practise all these vices on the very doorstep of the exalted man whose daughter you were hoping to lure into marriage. You really were very easy to unmask; it took my people no time at all.’

The wounded Cleland stared up at him. ‘You?’ he mumbled, clutching his bloody handkerchief. ‘I thought it was . . .’

‘You thought Lord Douglas had you followed?’ he laughed. ‘No, no, you had him fooled at home as well as in the court . . . or perhaps he persuaded himself that some stones are better left unturned, for fear of slimy creatures underneath. Oh yes, it was me, Gavin. I promised you I would bring you down, and I have done.’

‘Then fuck you! And your woman!’ Mathew looked at Dunlop, who began to turn slowly. ‘No!’ the baronet screamed.

‘Then mind your tongue. You’ll have need of it, for your future will require a great deal of glib talking. You see, Laird, there is one other vice of yours that I have not yet touched on. You are a gambler. You are as governed by the tables as you are by the drink, and probably by the laudanum as well. But like everything else in your life . . . apart from murder . . . you do it very badly.’

Cleland’s eyes began to narrow, and curiosity joined the fear they displayed.

‘You may think that the cards are games of chance, but they are not. They are in the main games of skill, and they are commonly played by professionals. By the very name, those are men for hire, men like the three against whom you have made such catastrophic losses since last summer. You know them as Jimmy, Pilmar and Kenneth: so do I, for they have been playing with my money and under my contract.’

Sir Gavin went white, pure chalk white.

‘Those losses of yours were so large,’ Mathew continued, ‘that you could not come near covering them, but still my three friends kept extending you credit. And you kept on losing. When eventually they called in your account with them, and you could not cover your debts, you were barred from the gaming house . . . but not before you had granted a floating charge to the aforesaid Jimmy, Pilmar and Kenneth, against this estate and everything in it, on the promise of future repayment. Am I right?’

Cleland made a small gurgling noise as he nodded.

‘Then it is a pity you had fallen out with James Douglas, for if he had looked over that charge, he would have found it as full of holes as a piece of fancy foreign cheese. For example he would have found that without your knowledge it could be assigned, transferred, at the discretion of the holders, and that it could be foreclosed upon at will.’ He paused, to let the Laird’s numbed mind catch up with him.

‘And assigned it has been,’ he said, ‘under the terms of my contract with your three opponents. They will keep the original stake money, of course, which was considerable, and as was agreed at the outset they have received between them one-tenth of the value of their winnings. That has turned out to be more money than they had ever heard of, far less dreamed. They are three happy men, blessing the days when they met the pair of us.’

He smiled. ‘Honest to God, Gavin, I expected them to strip you of all your money, and probably the Edinburgh house, but to play away your entire damned estate . . . man!

‘What a fool, what an eedjit! You know, I really should have kicked your arse when you were fifteen; you might have been a better man for it.’ He turned to his silent companion. ‘Mr Dunlop, the floor is yours.’

The man stepped forward, unrolling a document, from which he read.

‘Sir Gavin Cleland,’ he announced. ‘I am an officer of the Sheriff of Lanark, in the service of the Supreme Court of Scotland. I have to advise you that in accordance with the floating charge that you signed over this entire property and its contents, and with its subsequent transfer, ownership has been transferred, by decree issued by the Lord President of the Court of Session himself, to the assignee of that charge, Mistress Elizabeth McGill.’

Instinct made Mathew reach out to catch Lizzie’s elbow, to hold her steady.

‘What have you done?’ he heard her gasp.

‘Justice,’ he replied, almost as quietly. ‘He took away your nearest and dearest; now you have his in return. Not a fair exchange, I will admit, but the best I could do.’

‘Lord Douglas has ordered,’ Dunlop concluded, ‘that you render vacant possession of the estate by no later than January twenty-fourth. He further instructs that a full inventory of the estate be taken immediately, and that any attempt by you to destroy or sell any of the property from this moment on will be treated as a gross contempt of court and will lead to your prosecution for theft.’

The Sheriff’s officer placed the document on a table beside the shocked and trembling baronet. ‘You are duly served with the order of the court,’ he said. ‘People will come this afternoon to begin the inventory. If you obstruct them you will be arrested and held until they are done. Until Mistress McGill takes possession, the factor, Mr Armitage, I believe, has charge of the estate. I am going to speak to him now to advise him of his responsibility.’

As the officer withdrew, Mathew stepped across to Cleland’s chair and leaned over him, holding his bloody face, roughly, in his right hand, and staring into his eyes.

‘I would almost wish you long life,’ he whispered, ‘to suffer all the indignities of your change of fortune, but I made you a promise in June and I still intend to keep it.’

Chapter Forty-Three

‘M
ATHEW,’ LIZZIE EXCLAIMED
AS
she took off her cloak and hung it on a row of hooks behind her front door, ‘have you gone raving mad?’

She had said nothing, from leaving Cleland Hall until their arrival back in Carluke. All she had done was stare out of the window of the carriage, gazing at the snowflakes that had started to fall as Beattie eased the horses into a canter, and had grown heavier along the way.

‘Possibly,’ he admitted. ‘When my man Pilmar and his two friends came to me with that outcome, I thought that they had, but they were serious. As it turned out, Cleland was the lunatic, not having the sense to cut his losses until he had no more to lose.’

‘And you paid them one-tenth of the estate’s worth?’

‘One-tenth of the debt, which is the same, in theory.’

‘That is still a huge amount of money.’

He laughed. ‘Yes, but a bargain. My dear, had the estate come on the market in the normal way, I would have bought it for you, although it might have cost fifteen or twenty times more.’

‘But Mathew, what in Heaven’s name am I to do with an estate? I have no money, so how will I run it?’

‘The estate runs itself; it is self-financing. The first thing you will do is send all the cattle and hogget back to the slaughterhouse that turned them away. I think you will find they are accepted this time and at a damn good price, given the scarcity of fresh meat in winter. That will fill the coffers.

‘Then I suggest that you send some art to auction. In that reception room we passed two paintings by the Venetian artist, Titian, that Sir George pointed out to me when I visited him. The idiot Gavin had no idea of their value when he signed them over, but if he had sold them, I suspect that he could have cleared most of his debt. Instead he sold his father’s books, which are of relatively little value.’

‘Oh Mathew,’ she laughed, ‘you are mad, really. I like being the village shopkeeper. That is what I am cut out for.’

‘Then carry on. You can live in Cleland Hall and go to work every day, as I do from Waterloo House.’

‘This is too much for me,’ she protested. ‘I am overwhelmed.’

‘Think of it as a fine new dress. It will grow on you. Lizzie, it is done. You are mistress of Cleland Hall; that is your station now.’

‘Ohh!!!’ she cried, then hugged him to her, transferring flour to his fine magisterial suit. ‘On one condition,’ she said. ‘We, not I, will live in Cleland Hall and you will be the Laird. Otherwise . . .’

He grinned. ‘Go on,’ he chuckled. ‘Twist my arm.’

She gave it a gentle tug.

‘Very well, I agree. Do you know what my first act will be as master of Cleland?’

‘Tell me.’

‘John Barclay will be dismissed from his charge.’

Her face fell. ‘Oh Mathew. I thought you had forgiven him.’

‘I have. He has served this village, its folk, and its masters for long enough. He deserves a happy retirement. He will have a pension and he will live in Waterloo House under my mother’s care when I move here. Cleland Hall would be a step too far for her, and she has always carried a secret fondness for the minister.’

‘Will people talk?’

‘Certainly. Let them. When they are done with it, both of them, the place will be Matt’s. By that time he will fit it well. His father is buried there, so that is only right. Before then, once he is grown a bit more, in years if not in size, I plan to take him into the leather business, for I see him as my successor there. I like his enterprise and his enthusiasm. Even now, I believe that Marshall’s talents will lie elsewhere.’

‘My love, that is even more generous of you.’

‘Not at all; soon Matt will be my stepson, and will be treated as such. Besides, I promised his father I would keep him out of harm’s way, and giving him responsibility is a good way of doing that.’

She released him from her hug and stepped back. ‘This is all . . . mind-spinning. Does Mother Fleming know yet?’

He shook his head. ‘She suspects that something is up, but she has no idea what it is. I must go now and tell her, before I find myself snowed in here. Indeed I would like you three to come with me, just in case the road is not passable tomorrow.’

‘Yes, that would be sensible. I will go and fetch Matt and Jean from the shop.’ She made for the door, then paused. ‘How do you think Mother Fleming will take the news when you tell her?’

He shot her that sideways grin, and she felt herself go liquid inside. ‘Stoically, as always . . . until I get to the news about John Barclay.’

Chapter Forty-Four

O
NCE SHE HAD TAKEN
time to think it through, Hannah Fleming concurred with her son’s proposal. The news of the Cleland Estate did shake even her composure, but the time was long past when anything that Mathew did truly astonished her.

‘I am sure the lot o’ you will be very well suited, even though the place is so big that ye’ll tak an age findin’ Jean and Marshall if they ever play hide and seek. As for me, ye’re richt, I’m content here, and if it suits ye tae have me keep auld Barclay aff the drink, that’ll be fine also.

‘I think Ah’ll always need tae be lookin’ after someone, laddie. Ah was only ever unhappy when I thocht that you were gone, and even then Ah had Lizzie tae tend to for a while, for her own useless mither was no help tae her in her grief.’

As for the minister, who joined the family for Christmas lunch after his morning service, his reaction, when Mathew told him, in private, of his intentions, was to break down in tears.

‘You are too generous, sir,’ he gulped, ‘and Mrs McGill also, after the way I failed you this summer.’

‘No, John,’ he replied, ‘I failed you with my anger. I should have seen how exposed you were, with your living at the mercy of that wicked man.’

‘I wonder what sort of a Christmas Day he is having,’ Barclay pondered.

‘Indigestible, I hope. Before we left the hall yesterday I suggested to Armitage that he should have the cook prepare the biggest goose she could find and pile it high on his plate.’

Christmas Day at Waterloo House was a joyous festival, and yet it had a sombre beginning. At noon Lizzie and Matt led the household through the snow and up the hill to David’s grave. As they stood around it, John Barclay intoned a prayer, and Lizzie laid a bouquet of red-budded holly, cut from a tree in the grounds, before the memorial stone.

At that point, the young man did not know what had happened the day before, but when they were back indoors, Mathew and Lizzie took him into the private parlour and told him that his family’s fortunes had changed, and how it had happened. Lizzie described the confrontation with Cleland with relish, and in detail.

Matt was as stunned by the development as his mother had been but he smiled broadly when she told him how Mathew had repaid the baronet’s insult.

‘You did that?’ he exclaimed. ‘Where did you learn such a thing?’

‘Lad, I did not become a sergeant in the Cameron Highlanders by being a milksop,’ he replied. ‘Times I had to stand my ground, and some things, once learned, are never forgotten.’

‘Will you teach me?’

‘When your mother is elsewhere, perhaps.’ Mathew held the young man’s gaze. ‘That brings me to a question I would put to you. If she and I were to marry at some point in the near future, would you have any objection?’

The smile left Matt’s face. ‘I would only object if you did not. The night before he died, Faither told me I should look after you both. It will make it a damn sight easier for me if you are man and wife.’

Mathew shook his hand, formally, man to man. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘We were thinking of a time around St Valentine’s Day.’

‘I was thinking of tomorrow,’ Matt countered, smiling once more. ‘If we are all to move into Cleland Hall in a month, I would rather not have to stand outside my mother’s door to keep to propriety.’

‘Hey, boy,’ Lizzie chided, ‘would that be to keep him out or keep me in? Make no male assumptions about your answer.’

That was forestalled by Mathew. ‘The banns must be called on three Sundays,’ he said. ‘That means,’ he did a quick mental calculation, ‘any time after January the eleventh. You have time to be measured for a suit, but not that much.’

Their news added the final touch to the celebration. Mathew found goose too fatty for his taste and so he had ordered the cook to prepare roast beef, preceded by broth, and trout, fresh caught from Lanark Loch, and followed by a rich dark pudding, flamed in brandy and served with cream.

When it was over, and young Matt had driven off to Carluke in Hannah’s little coach, to take Jane Fisher her present, Lizzie and Matt returned to the private parlour.

‘Is all this haste too much?’ he asked, an arm around her waist as they stood by the window, watching Marshall and Jean playing in the snow in the last of the fast-fading daylight.

She turned to him. ‘Too much?’ she murmured. ‘Draw the curtains a little, lock the door and I’ll show you. What Matt doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’