The Handfasters

by Helen Susan Swift

  But I did not care, of course, for I had more immediate concerns, such as my impending interview with Aunt Elspeth, and how badly that infernal mud had treated my gown and shoes.

  Chapter Three

  I had expected an uncomfortable half hour with Aunt Elspeth, but I had not expected anything like the interview that she gave me. Perhaps we did have more freedom, perhaps even wild ways in the north, but at least there I was treated with some sort of respect. We all had a place in society and acted accordingly, but by the time Aunt Elspeth was finished with me I knew that there was no place except that which she assigned to me, and that was probably somewhere I did not want to be.

  Taking me into the withdrawing room, she dismissed all the servants, but allowed Louisa to stay, which I considered grossly unfair. Her expression was one of the utmost distaste as she looked me up and down, from the top of my hatless head to the toes of my scuffed boots. “Your behaviour,” she began, with her voice as frosty as any winter night, “was worse than abominable. By making a spectacle of yourself you insulted Lady Catriona, you made a fool out of me and you threw my hospitality back in my face.”

  I said nothing. At that moment I felt only like weeping, but somehow I realised that that particular weapon of defence would not work on this occasion. Lady Elspeth Ballantyne was perhaps forty, with the straight back and dignified bearing that only an Edinburgh matriarch could show. Mistress of her household, she always dressed in a simple yet refined manner, with the most cultured of clothes that somehow seemed practical as she took sole charge of her house and all that was in it. Unfortunately, that included me.

  We stood there, with the three great windows open to the greenery of Queen Street Gardens and beyond toward the Firth of Forth, and the elegant furniture revealing everything of Aunt Elspeth's life. I tried to concentrate on the Sevres porcelain and fine furniture, but it was impossible to avoid the steel in Aunt Elspeth's eyes, particularly when she gripped my arms and pulled me toward her.

  “You shamed me by your behaviour,” Aunt Elspeth said, and I tried to look away but failed. Honestly, you would think that I had voiced republican tendencies the way that she carried on.

  “My goodness, girlie, if you were a few years younger I would take a birch rod to you, and even now I am tempted…” The thought was so appalling that I shuddered. Louisa sat upright on the sofa in obvious delight and I saw her face brighten hopefully as she looked toward my aunt. For an instant I imagined myself … but that is an image that I will spare you, my dears. Suffice to say that the threat itself was enough to reduce me to tears, which was probably the ogre's intention. “We will let that drop for now,” Aunt Elspeth said, and I sensed Louisa's disappointment.

  I hoped for a reprieve then, but Aunt Elspeth was only drawing breath for the next assault. “You left the Forres residence attended by two servants and managed to lose them. You remained away all night, which could have kept me half demented with worry. You returned looking like a gaberlunzie girl after spending the night unchaperoned with a man…” Aunt Elspeth stopped, obviously at a loss what to say. “By heavens girlie, if the full details of your misbehaviour ever get out, I do not know what sort of damage it will do to your reputation. We are lucky that the town is talking about the riot that occurred last night and not of the indiscretions of some foolish Highland child.”

  She shook her head. “You must write a full letter of apology to Lady Catriona, and I will read it before it is despatched.”

  I nodded and began to move away but Aunt Elspeth dragged me back, to the delight of my loving cousin. “Oh I have not finished yet, Miss Alison. My servants tell me that when they arrived you were addressing Willie Kemp most terribly.”

  Why Willie Kemp, I thought, idly. Why not Kemp, or Mr Kemp? What was different about that maddeningly serene mechanic?

  “They told me that they could hear you, shouting like a Newhaven fishwife, from the other side of the loch.”

  I tried to hang my head as my face burned with genuine shame. Had I really been that bad? Fishwives were notorious for their vitriolic language, so perhaps I should have been proud of my verbal display, but with Aunt Elspeth's wide eyes glaring into mine, I was anything but. “Yes, Aunt Elspeth,” I said, as meekly as if I had indeed been soundly birched. I could still sense Louise enjoying my humiliation, and I resolved to involve her in some way. “But it was not all my fault, Aunt Elspeth. Louise was quite as guilty as I. It was Louise that knocked me down, and not me her, and she was so intent on cutting out John Forres that she was positively green eyed whenever he looked at me. And she was particularly jealous when he kissed me at the sound of the bells…”

  I had to stop, aware that I had probably said far too much and had incriminated myself in admitting that stolen kiss. Louise was looking at me in something like horror, and for a second I felt sweet revenge, but that soon disappeared as I was nearly sorry for her.

  My outburst had stopped Aunt Elspeth in mid sentence.

  I do not think I have ever experienced a silence quite as intense as I did in that instant. I could hear every whirr of the grandmother clock that stood in the angle of the wall, and could even make out the grinding of wheels as a coach passed the window. The sound of the horse's hooves seemed to beat time as Aunt Elspeth's grip tightened on my upper arms. For a second I thought that she was going to slap me and I quailed.

  “Indeed,” Aunt Elspeth said, and repeated herself. “Indeed.”

  I waited for the world to end, but instead Aunt Elspeth began to laugh. It was a lightning change of mood that quite threw me off guard so that for a second I believed that all was right with the world and I was forgiven my trespasses of the previous evening. However, my dears, in this world everything has to be paid for, especially moments of happiness, and one must learn to keep control of one's tongue. It is a hard lesson for a girl like I was, and, I suspect, for most females in our family.

  “So you think fit to bandy words with me, young miss.” Aunt Elspeth laughed again, and I permitted myself a small smile, although I was aware that Louise was nearly frozen to the couch with her face a picture of horror that could well have acted as a frontispiece to any gothic book.

  “Well now, so John Forres bestowed a kiss upon you, and not upon Louise,” Aunt Elspeth continued. “So be it indeed.” Dropping her grip from my arms, she walked the full length of the room, with her skirt swishing against her legs and that clock still ticking away the terrible seconds. When she returned she seemed to have made a momentous decision, although to me it sounded just like an excuse to get me away for a while.

  “Miss Alison, I wish you to wash and change, for you certainly will not be wearing that ball gown for quite some time. Put on something more practical for the weather, for I want you to return to Willie Kemp's cottage.”

  I stared at her. “Return to Willie Kemp? Whatever for? The man is nothing more than a mechanic, and eccentric to boot.”

  Aunt Elspeth nodded. “That may be one opinion of the good Mr Kemp, but he certainly helped you last night. He gave you hospitality, he gave you shelter and he gave you food. He advised me of your whereabouts, which relieved me of a great deal of anxiety, and what did you give him in return?”

  I shook my head. “I gave him nothing, Aunt Elspeth.”

  “Indeed you did. You gave him ingratitude and unladylike abuse. So now you will return, you will thank him for his assistance and you will offer your most sincere apologies for your behaviour.”

  I shook my head, proud as a Highland Lucifer that I was, and quite unable to see what was happening in this household. My, but I was naïve in my youth, although I believed that I knew everything there was to know. It is a strange fact, my dears, that youthful ignorance convinces us that we know everything, but the more experience we have, the more we realise that we do not know much at all.

  “I cannot do that,” I said, putting on my most stubborn of faces, the same face that always worked at home. “I cannot apologise to a mere mechanic!”

 
Aunt Elspeth leaned closer with a curious frown on her face. “Perhaps not to a mechanic, Miss Alison,” she told me, “but you can and you will apologise to Willie Kemp. You will carry your letter to him first thing tomorrow morning.” That cold steel was back in her voice, so I knew that I would indeed apologise to Mr Willie Kemp, and be glad to do so.

  “And now, young lady,” I was pleased to see that Aunt Elspeth was addressing Louise in a tone of voice quite as severe as she had used on me. Louise nodded, unable to meet these terrible eyes. “We have things to discuss, have we not?”

  I waited hopefully, fully expecting to see a scene, but Aunt Elspeth turned to me. “Did I not give you something to do?” she asked, so quietly that I knew it was best to leave.

  “Yes, Aunt Elspeth,” I said, and before I knew it I was outside that door and nearly running up the stairs to the bedroom that I shared with Louise.

  I still do not fully know what was said or done in the withdrawing room after I left, but I do know that Louise was in fits of tears when she returned, and she threw herself upon the bed in a perfect fury of sorrow. I left her to her howling and snuffling, for I had to compose a letter that contained an apology suitable for the eyes of Aunt Elspeth yet one that a man of probable limited education would understand.

  “I hate you,” Louise said, from behind the muffling veil of tears and the pillow that she pressed against her face to still the sobs. “Oh I hate you, Alison Lamont, and I hope that you are never happy in your life.”

  “Why thank you; I hate you too.” I gave a small curtsey, for after living with a brood of brothers and sisters I did not take the wild passion of the moment as seriously as Louise intended. Perhaps I should have been more considerate of her feelings, but with an early morning meeting with a low born mechanic pressing on my mind, I could not afford to dwell on her black temper.

  We spent the remainder of that day in silence, save for Louise's sobs and snufflings, so I once I had written my letter, I buried my nose in a book except for when we ate, and the meals were as sombre affairs as any funeral. More sombre, in fact, for in the Highlands such affairs are enlivened with plenty whisky, which loosens tongues and creates songs. There was no singing at Aunt Elspeth's table that day, and neither whisky, wine or kindness for the disgraced young ladies of the household. “You two had better repair to bed,” Aunt Elspeth told us gravely, “and remember, Alison, you have a task first thing tomorrow.”

  Aunt Elspeth had supplied us with a dressing table and all the paraphernalia that our generation thought essential to a woman's looks. As soon as we had breakfasted next morning, I left Louise to her perennial sobbing, disrobed to my underthings and slid onto the stool. The adventures of the day before had not damaged me as much as I had feared, for save for a slight shadowing of my eyes that was created by tiredness, the same face reflected today that I had seen yesterday and the day before.

  All the same, I resolved that Mr Willie Kemp should not see me in such a bad light for a second time in succession. Two days past he had seen a waif from the storm, a refugee of the riots, but today he should see a lady, despite the fact that my clothes would of necessity be humble and hard wearing. He should also see my face at its best, not spattered with mud, rain and tears.

  Accordingly I selected the chief of the potions and perfumes and ointments that were arrayed across that table. There was a small glass marked Royal Tincture of Peach Kernels and there was liquid bloom of roses, which I knew to be rouge, which was not quite as fashionable as it once was. There was Olympian Dew eye lotion, which I knew made even the tiredest eyes sparkle, and pimpernel water for the complexion.

  As I worked on myself, admiring my face in the mirror and ignoring the constant snuffling and whining from my beloved cousin, I wondered how best I should apologise to Mr Kemp. Should I appear humble and contrite, or honest and misunderstood? Either way the entire process should not take long, for what did a young lady like me have in common with a grubby-fingered mechanic? Nothing really, so I should be there and back within a couple of hours.

  I had hoped that Aunt Elspeth would lend me her carriage for the short hop across to Mr Kemp's hut, but she had borrowed that for some mysterious errand of her own, leaving me no choice but to request that the chairmen carry me once more.

  I approached them with my usual smile, expecting the fawning obsequiousness that I had been told city servants possessed. Instead I was shocked to see amusement in his eyes as he denied my request.

  “Sorry Miss Alison,” the leading servant said, touching his hand to his forehead in a gesture that held much more of insolence than of subservience. “But Her Ladyship has expressly forbid me from allowing you to use the sedan.” I swear the rogue was grinning behind that bland face as he continued. “Her Ladyship said that you should walk, Miss Alison, for the exercise would be best for you, she said.”

  Now remember, my dears, Scottish servants are apt to think themselves your equal, no matter how lowly their station, so you must meet like for like.

  “Thank you,”' I said to the oaf, determined not to let him see how irritated I was. “I shall follow Her Ladyship's advice and enjoy the walk.”

  “Yes Miss Alison,” he replied. “And Her Ladyship said to remind you not to get lost, and not to plouter around in the mud more than you can help.”

  These servants really are more trouble than they are worth sometimes, especially if they have been with the family a long time. They are loyal as a Spartan of course, but too familiar by half.

  However, there was nothing for it but to walk and ignore the ill-concealed amusement of half the serving class of Edinburgh. You will remember how the Edinburgh New Town is cut off from the old by the great moat now filled by Princes Street Gardens. Imagine if you will, a great sheet of muddy water where the flower beds and lawns now are, fringe it with reeds and that was the North Loch. I had to walk down Hanover Street from Aunt Elspeth's town house in Queen Street, cross Princes Street and skirt the loch to the opposite shore. It was no great distance, but a bit fatiguing when one was fully figged out and preened to perfection.

  I must have been a good twenty minutes on that short walk, trying to avoid the puddles, for it had rained during the night, and of course I was splashed with mud by the time I reached the hut by the waterside.

  Taking a deep breath and already forming my apology and my thanks, I rapped on the door, to find that there was no reply. For a moment I contemplated returning home, but I knew that Aunt Elspeth would check on me and probably send me back the next day, which would be galling in the extreme, and extremely fatiguing to my temper, so I opened the door and stepped inside, to be confronted by the shocking sight of an entirely naked man.

  Chapter Four

  My first reaction was to scream and withdraw, but curiosity forced me to linger an instant longer, for it was the first time I had seen a full grown man in nature's guise and the sight was quite delicious, if shockingly scandalous of course. Believe me, my dears, most men are not worth the effort of even a single glance, yet alone a study, but Mr Kemp was worth both, and more. I was fortunate that I had brothers, so I knew what shape and form males were, although it was many years since I had seen them in such a condition. Those years added much to a man, apparently, and I gave a little gasp.

  It took that long for my presence to register with him and he started, covered the most disquieting parts of himself and turned aside. That was hardly an effective disguise, for it only afforded me a view of a different portion of his anatomy, and one which would be nearly as outrageous to the delicate eye.

  “Mr Kemp!” I said. “Pray cover yourself!”

  He did try, placing one hand before and one behind, but the covering was still inadequate, so I thought it best to leave, but not, I hesitate to admit, without some reluctance and a last downward look.

  I did bang the door, however, to make my discomfort obvious, and if I glanced back in case it did not close properly, I am sure that my action was inadvertent.

  I heard
various rustling noises and it was a good three minutes before Mr Kemp appeared at his door, fully clad and with his dark hair dripping water down his face and onto the chest of his remarkably crisp linen shirt.

  “Mr Kemp,” I said, trying not to let my eyes leave his face, or to be embarrassed by the full colour of my burning cheeks, “I should have knocked louder … I will say nothing of what I have just seen…”

  “I cannot apologise enough,” Mr Kemp interrupted my intended apology. He looked as disconcerted as I had ever seen him, and still stood awkwardly, as if a half crouch could erase the image of his person from my memory. “I had no idea that you were coming…”

  “As I said, I will say nothing of what I have seen,” I was determined to finish my piece and withdraw, so I could nurse my thoughts to myself and maybe share them with Louise once we had made up our ridiculous quarrel. We could have a fine time discussing things, now that I could match some of her stories with one of my own. And a true story at that, unlike her fantasies drawn from the pages of cheap novels.

  “If I had known, I would certainly have been better dressed…” Mr Kemp seemed intent on speaking through me in the most impolite manner.

  “Indeed I will not mention it again. However, my aunt, Lady Elspeth Ballantyne, asked me if I would return…”

  But that insolent man was still speaking, as if I was only there to listen to him and his ridiculous excuses, and as if I cared if I had seen him naked or not. After all, he was only a mechanic. “As it is, I can only apologise for my state of undress and assure you that I had no intention of insulting you in any form at all…”

  Ignoring his relentless talk, I continued. “Lady Elspeth Ballantyne asked me if I would return to apologise to you for my bad manners on the first of this month and to thank you…”

  “So if you could see your way clear to forgiving me I would thank you…”

  The coincidental use of an identical phrase struck us both simultaneously and we stopped together. For the first time I properly looked at the man who stood opposite me.