A Forbidden Liaison with Miss Grant

by Marguerite Kaye

  ‘He’s spending the day with his friends at Dalkeith House. I doubt there can be a ptarmigan left in the Highlands, for so many have been shot and sent as gifts for the pot. And grouse. It’s as well we’re past the Glorious Twelfth, or he’d be obliged to content himself with...’

  ‘Hodge-podge and sheep’s heid. What’s wrong, Constance?’

  ‘I don’t know what we’re doing here. We said our goodbyes, and we both know there’s no question of any sort of future for us, so—what are we doing, Grayson? Torturing ourselves?’

  ‘Is that what it feels like? The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. Should I go?’

  ‘No. That would be worse. Wouldn’t it?’

  He laughed, then sighed. ‘I’m not sure of anything any more. Look, here’s our usual spot, shall we sit down?’

  ‘The grass will be damp. It’s rained almost non-stop since you left. No, don’t give me your coat to sit on, you’ll ruin it.’

  ‘I care only marginally more for this coat than I do for the King. Come here and sit down beside me and let’s try and see if two intelligent, middle-aged people can make sense of what they’re doing.’

  ‘You’ll probably get more sense out of Angus.’ Constance lowered herself carefully on to the coat, grimacing. ‘My knee.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘Gout, probably.’

  Grayson gave a snort of laughter. ‘It will be dropsy next, by your next birthday, you mark my words.’

  ‘I bumped into my bedpost in the dark, if you must know. I was working late, and my candle blew out, and—well, you can imagine.’

  ‘Would you like me to kiss it better?’

  His smile was teasing, wicked, warm. Constance forgot to feel awkward and remembered how it had been between them from the beginning, as if they could read each other’s thoughts, as if they had known each other all their lives, as if they were meant to be together. ‘Yes please,’ she said.

  He laughed. And then his smile faded as their gazes locked and their fingers twined and they leaned into one another, and their lips met and clung for a long moment while their world resettled. And then they kissed. Their kisses were gentle and tender. They were soothing, reassuring kisses, without any other intent. The passion that was always there between them smouldered in the background of those kisses, but they were not the kind of kisses to stoke the fire. Constance had tried so very hard not to put her feelings into words. Those kisses made the words unnecessary. When they finally drew apart, her lashes were wet with tears.

  ‘I can’t bear to make you cry,’ Grayson said, kissing her lids. ‘I should go, I’m being selfish.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go. Since you went away, it’s not only the Edinburgh skies that have been grey.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have put it that way, but couldn’t have put it better.’ Grayson twined his fingers around hers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. ‘The days seem driech, even when the sun is shining. Not that it has, much, since we’re having a typical Scottish summer.’

  She laughed weakly. ‘I’ve certainly been under a cloud. Poor Pearl keeps asking me if she’s done anything to offend me. She has been my only friend, save for Paul, for so long, and I struggle to give her the time of day at the moment. I feel so guilty, it’s not her fault that she’s not you.’

  ‘Yesterday, Shona asked me why I’d run off, and I said I’d spotted a friend in the crowd. “I didn’t know you had any friends,” she said to me. It hadn’t even occurred to me until she said it, that I don’t. I’ve lots of business acquaintances, but I don’t have any friends as such. Out of the mouth of babes, as the saying goes.’

  He plucked a long blade of grass and began to twist it round his finger. ‘You can’t miss what you don’t have. I didn’t know that I was lonely. I didn’t realise that I was missing someone to laugh with, to talk to until I met you. Proper adult company, not my children, but someone who I can talk to about—anything really, save work and my children, I suppose. I enjoy your company, and I’m lonely without it. Your conversation isn’t the only thing I miss about you,’ he added, with a devilish smile, ‘but believe it or not, it’s the main thing.’

  ‘I do believe you because it’s exactly the same for me.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be relieved to hear you say so, but I am.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting, Grayson, that we become friends? Correspond? Meet occasionally for coffee and cake?’

  ‘I’m saying we are friends. I suppose I’m saying that there’s not actually anything wrong with me having a friend. Quite the contrary. Even the Murrays couldn’t object to that.’

  ‘Until they discovered that I’m not only a female but a rabble-rouser to boot. I think you might find it difficult to explain me away as your friend, then.’

  ‘Ah well, as the saying goes, God loves a trier. It doesn’t alter the fact that what I told Shona yesterday was the truth.’ He cast the blade of grass away and squeezed her hand. ‘We are friends, aren’t we?’

  ‘Best friends.’ Who most likely would never see each other again, after today. Constance pushed the thought ruthlessly to the back of her mind. ‘Talking of friends, Pearl has invited one of hers to come and stay for the second week of the King’s visit. What about your children’s grandparents, have they arrived yet?’

  Grayson grimaced. ‘They’re here all right, staying at Oman’s in Waterloo Street.’

  ‘Which is only the second-best hotel in Edinburgh.’

  ‘So Neil made a point of telling them, for he was well primed by that Urquhart fellow. The Murrays left it far too late to rent anything more than a bedchamber, no suite with a sitting room, and worse still, their servants have been boarded elsewhere.’

  ‘A victory for Clan Maddox then?’

  ‘Not really. As the old man made sure to point out, money can buy a superior hotel room, but only breeding can secure an audience with His Majesty.’

  ‘Charming. Does that mean you’ve actually spoken to them? I thought your plan was to avoid them at all costs?’

  ‘That was a misguided plan.’ Grayson stared down at their clasped hands, frowning. ‘That last day, you asked me if I’d ever tried to mend bridges with them, and I told you that it wasn’t up to me.’

  ‘You said it wasn’t you who had burned them, I remember.’

  ‘Which is true.’ He sighed. ‘But it now strikes me as being a bit petty on my part. And when you asked me if they were land improvers too, and I didn’t even know that much, I was more than a bit ashamed. It’s been seventeen years, maybe nearer eighteen, since Eliza and I were married, and she’s been gone for eight of them. I know I’ve changed, but whether they know that, and whether they care or not, I’ve not a clue. For the last eight years, they’ve been trying to lure my children away from me, and I’ve been burying my head in the sand, trying not to rock the boat and hoping everything will turn out for the best. I’m a practical man, a problem solver. A bridge builder not a bridge burner, if you like. I’ve realised that ignoring the situation isn’t going to resolve anything.

  ‘You’ve clearly been doing a lot of soul searching since I last saw you.’

  ‘That’s what tends to happen, when you meet someone who turns your nicely ordered life upside down and disrupts your sleep into the bargain.’ His smile was strained. ‘I don’t approve of the world the Murrays inhabit, where your bloodline matters more than whether or not you’re a decent person. I don’t like their attitudes, I heartily dislike the way they look down their noses at anyone who doesnae speak with a fancy English accent, who has made their money by hard graft, and who doesn’t need a servant to wipe his—’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘You get my drift.’

  ‘And I couldn’t agree more.’

  ‘Aye well, that’s the problem. Most people wouldn’t agree, and though I hate to say it, I can actually see that there’s advantages to b
e had, in having the right name and background, and the connections that go with it. I’ve never made any attempt to force my children down one path or another. If they choose to be part of the Murrays aristocratic world, I’ll have to live with it, but I want them to have the choice, and I want them to be the ones to decide what’s best for them.’

  ‘Isn’t that what all of you want, both you and their grandparents?’

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I’ve hoped so for the last eight years, but I’m not so sure now. I’ve been far too passive, this is too important a matter for me to sit back any more, doing nothing but hope, so I’m going to have to find a way of making them listen to my point of view.’

  ‘Which means you’ll have to mend fences? That is a very noble thing to do, when they must know you could simply cut the connection.’

  ‘It’s not noble, it’s the right thing to do, and I’d never cut them off.’

  ‘No,’ Constance said, smiling, ‘because you’re much more of a gentleman, in my humble opinion, that Lord Glenbranter will ever be.’

  ‘I think you’re perhaps just a wee bit biased. It might be the right thing to do, but I can’t say it’s a task that’s filling me with delight. She’s not so bad, but he’s a curmudgeonly old bugger. And that,’ Grayson said, rolling his shoulders and stretching his legs out in front of him, ‘is more than enough of the Murrays for now.’

  ‘You’re not the only one who has used their sleepless nights to do a bit of soul searching, you know,’ Constance said. ‘“What will you do, after?” you asked me that last day. I didn’t want to hear the question, never mind answer it, but unfortunately, everything my best friend says to me sticks in my head.’

  ‘And have you come up with any answers?’

  Constance shook her head. ‘It feels like giving up, to look for a teaching post. And I’m not ready to give up, even if Paul is. I still feel like I have unfinished business.’ Constance squeezed his fingers. ‘I’m forty years old, I’ve at least another twenty years ahead of me.’

  ‘Ach, you’re not even halfway through.’

  ‘Thank you for my lovely birthday present, by the way. It’s perfect and I wear it every day. You’ll tell me I’m daft, but I like to imagine that by doing so I have you with me in spirit.’

  Grayson shook his head, smiling sheepishly. ‘I don’t think you’re being daft at all. I carry this about with me all the time. Do you remember giving me this?’ he asked, pulling something from his pocket.

  ‘Inchcolm, the pink shell! How could I forget?’ She smoothed her hand over his cheek, leaning in for his kiss. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, and how often I’ve told myself that it will get easier in time.’

  ‘Oh, believe me, I have every idea.’

  ‘What are we to do? All the reasons we had for parting are still there. Nothing has changed.’

  ‘One thing has, for me. I can’t imagine my life without you. And yet that is precisely what I must do.’

  ‘Oh.’ A lump rose in Constance’s throat. She tried to swallow it, blinking furiously to prevent herself crying. ‘Sometimes when you say exactly what I have been thinking, I wish you hadn’t. I can’t bear to say goodbye again.’

  ‘Then we won’t. Not yet, any road.’ Grayson frowned. ‘The King is here for a fortnight. It’s my chance to see if I can forge some sort of relationship with the Murrays, and it’s Flora’s last chance to win hearts and minds through the NJJ, but—what do you think, Constance? Can we manage to find a morsel of time to spend together while all that’s going on?’

  ‘You were looking forward to spending the better part of this fortnight with Neil and Shona.’

  ‘If I’m to build bridges with the Murrays, I’ll need to show them that I’m willing to share my children with them. I’ll be honest,’ Grayson added ruefully, ‘if being with them requires me to sit through another day like yesterday, I’ll be happy to bequeath that dubious honour to them. What do you think?’

  ‘I know what I want.’

  ‘Aye, that’s the easy part right enough. Come on, Angus is stirring, that’s a sure sign we’ve been sitting here long enough.’ He got to his feet with his usual enviable ease, holding out his hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss that knee of yours better?’

  ‘I can think of much more interesting places for you to kiss.’

  ‘What was that you were saying, about wishing I did not say what was on your mind,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her. ‘One of the other ways I while away the sleepless nights is by torturing myself, imagining just that.’

  ‘Let’s see if the reality is better,’ Constance said, putting her arms around his neck.

  Their lips met. Their tongues touched, and this time their kisses were passionate. Far too passionate for decency’s sake. ‘Angus,’ Constance said, her breathing ragged.

  ‘Angus might be old and toothless, but I bet he’s had his moments.’ Grayson picked up his coat, shaking it out. ‘You were right about the rain, this is soaking.’

  ‘You’ll catch a chill if you put it on.’

  ‘Good, I need something to cool me down. The things you do to me, woman!’

  ‘You do them to me too. I’m not sure that friends are meant to kiss like that.’

  ‘We’re best friends, remember?’

  ‘Ah, so best friends can kiss.’ Stooping, Constance gathered up Angus’s lead. ‘Will you walk with us tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Definitely, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Angus.’

  ‘What have you planned for the rest of the day?’

  ‘I’ll find that out when I get back to the hotel and wake up my slug-abed son.’

  * * *

  Having fed and watered Angus, Constance was surprised to find Pearl waiting for her in the morning room. ‘You’re up and about early.’

  ‘I thought I’d join you for morning coffee. Did you and Angus enjoy your walk? Where did you go?’

  ‘Oh, the usual place. You know Angus, he’s a creature of habit.’

  ‘Like me. And you too. In fact I’ve been thinking my dear, that we are all of us rather stuck in a rut.’

  ‘Have you? What has brought this on?’

  ‘You’ve not been yourself this past while. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’ Pearl was a small, round apple-shaped woman with a fluffy halo of silver curls above a plump-cheeked countenance designed for smiling. Today however, a frown drew her delicately drawn brows together. ‘You are remembering,’ she said, ‘that my friend Isabel is arriving next week.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten. I thought we could give her the blue bedchamber.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you about the housekeeping arrangements, Constance.’

  ‘That sounds ominous. What do you want to talk to me about?’

  Pearl set her coffee cup down, shaking her head at the offer of a top up. ‘Isabel is one of my oldest friends, as you know. She’s fallen on rather hard times since her husband died. Unlike my dear Kenneth, who left me very well provided for, poor Isabel is having to cut her cloth to fit considerably reduced circumstances.’

  ‘I see. You’d like to offer her a home, is that it?’

  ‘I’d like to see if we would suit, yes.’

  ‘Of course. My staying here with you was always meant to be a temporary arrangement.’

  ‘No, no, my dear, you’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick entirely. I’m not about to throw you out on to the street. There’s no shortage of rooms in this house, though I do think—perhaps I will take another cup of coffee after all, if you would be so good. Thank you.’

  ‘I know I’ve been poor company this last while.’

  ‘I’ve not seen you so unhappy, Constance, since those dark days when you came here from Clachan Bridge. Oh, my dear, I am so sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Constance tried not to panic.
What had Pearl seen or heard?

  ‘He told me himself,’ she said.

  ‘What? Who?’ Grayson didn’t know Pearl. ‘Who told you what?’

  ‘Why Paul, of course. He told me that he’d spoken to you about shutting down the journal, and that you had taken it very badly. He followed you out to make sure you were all right.’ Pearl pursed her lips, shaking her head. ‘He made some cryptic remark about Bonnie Prince Charlie doing his work for him. Do you have any idea what he meant?’

  ‘About Bonnie Prince Charlie?’ Constance busied herself with her coffee spoon. ‘Just a silly joke between us, that’s all. Pearl, I’m so sorry I’ve been such a wet blanket.’

  ‘My dear, I’m sorry that you can’t see it’s for the best. Forgive me for being frank, but I think you need to start thinking about life beyond Flora.’

  ‘So you agree with Paul, then?’

  ‘Oh, Paul! How do you think I became acquainted with Paul Michaels? He was up in court before my husband twenty years ago, being sued for libel by some prominent figure whom he had offended with his views. My husband happened to side with Paul on that occasion. Paul is a good man, Constance, and heaven knows his heart is in the right place but he’s a political butterfly. It’s in his nature always to be on the lookout for a new cause to support, a different battle to fight. Never mind what Paul thinks, it’s what you think that matters. You’re still a relatively young woman. You have many years ahead of you.’

  Years to be spent without Grayson. To her horror, Constance found herself on the edge of tears. Her encounter with him had been so wonderful. After all these weeks of being so miserable and missing him so terribly, it was such a joy simply to be in his company, but what now? Weren’t they simply putting off the inevitable, by continuing to see each other? When the King left, so would Grayson, and the agony of missing him would begin all over again. Was it better to store up a few more memories, or were they, as she had suggested, simply torturing themselves? What they were really doing, was burying their heads in the sand like the poor ostriches providing the feathers for the ladies who were attending the King’s Drawing Room. They couldn’t keep on blithely ignoring reality because they didn’t want to face it.