The Laird of Lochandee

by Gwen Kirkwood

  Eliza MacDougall had arrived earlier than usual, intending to wheedle her way back into favour with Peter Sedgeman. She had had no doubts about her success. He needed her to look after his brats.

  Eventually Rachel felt recovered enough to make her way back up the garden path but as soon as she entered the wash-house she heard angry voices in the scullery.

  ‘Now, I know why you came back early yesterday! You wanted to trap me!’ Several oaths followed. Rachel winced. She had heard men swear often enough at the smiddy, but even they had not used words such as this woman was using – and to her employer. She stood frozen to the spot, but the tirade which followed shocked her even more.

  ‘I will not be quiet! Every day you pretended to be working late, saying you had deliveries to make. Liar! Leaving me to look after your brats. Pretending you didna want a woman in your bed. A real Holy Willie you’ve turned out to be!’ Eliza gave a harsh laugh. ‘All the time you were taking your pleasure with a bit of a trollop. And she’s young enough to be your daughter by the looks of her!’

  ‘Be quiet I say!’ Peter Sedgeman commanded angrily. ‘The girl you saw has nothing to do with me, I tell you. She …’

  ‘No? Then what is she doing here? Why is she staying here? No wonder you didna let me into the house when I brought the milk! She slept here last night, didn’t she? She must have done. You wouldn’t let me sleep in the same house. Not fitting you said!’ She spat the words at him. ‘And there she is, spewing her heart out. I know morning sickness when I see it. If she’s not expecting your bairn, why bring her here? You are planning to keep her here, aren’t you? That’s why you want rid o’ me!’

  ‘You’ve got it all wrong …’

  ‘Liar! You’re a liar, MisterSedgeman! And you supposed to be a pillar of the kirk,’ she jeered.

  Rachel could not believe the words she was hearing. As their implication registered she gasped aloud. She would have fallen had she not grasped at the mangle. She leaned against it, striving to combat the waves of faintness. Both Eliza and Peter heard her, saw her cling to the heavy iron frame.

  ‘Are you all right, lassie?’ Peter Sedgeman moved to her side. Eliza watched, her lip curling. She was filled with a jealous rage.

  ‘Now tell me she’s not expecting a bairn! Why, she can barely stand without fainting. And it doesna look to me as though there’s much else wrong wi’ her …’

  ‘Take that money and get out!’

  ‘Why should I?’ Eliza stood, hands on hips, her eyes hard.

  ‘Take that packet and think yourself lucky you are getting a week’s wages after the way you have neglected my children.’ Peter’s voice was like ice.

  ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily!’

  ‘Get out of my house!’

  ‘You’ll pay for this! She’s little more than a bairn. You’ve used her. Your customers will soon take their trade to the new Co-op Store when they hear what you’ve been up to. As for the kirk, you’ll not dare to show your face at the door when the rest of your puritan Elders and oh, so properwives hear what I have to say.’ She slammed the door so hard the whole house shook.

  Peter’s face was white. He knew how easily gossip spread. It grew with the telling, especially in country districts. He knew the sort of malicious gossip Eliza MacDougall would spread. However untrue it was it would be bad for his business. Trade was already poor enough with so many out of work.

  ‘We both need a cup of tea,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll help you through to the kitchen.’ Rachel’s fingers were clasped so tightly around the frame of the mangle she seemed incapable of letting go.

  Her mind was filled with nightmarish pictures. A young woman from her village – a pretty laughing woman. “Flaunts herself in front of the men”. “Harlot”. “Deserves all she gets.” The women had muttered darkly. Even Minnie, who was always fair, had considered her wicked. They had shunned her. The Elders of the kirk had condemned her. One evening just before dark Rachel had seen her, head bowed, huddled in her shawl, hurrying from the village. A few weeks later she had heard the horrified whispers. Someone had found her. She had hanged herself from a tree in a wood. Her shame and misery had been too much to bear, or so Mrs Chalmers had told Granny Ferguson.

  ‘She thinks I’m going to have a baby!’ Rachel stared at Peter. Her eyes were dark with horror. ‘That’s what she said. She meant me, didn’t she?’

  ‘Aye, I’m afraid she did.’

  ‘It’s not true!’ Rachel’s voice was rising as panic filled her whole being. ‘It can’t be true! It can’t! It can’t!’

  ‘Hush, lassie. Hush now. Calm yourself. Come through and have a cup of tea.’

  Rachel allowed him to lead her into the kitchen like someone in a trance. All three children were sitting on the rug in front of the fire. Peter made tea and added a generous measure of sugar to Rachel’s. He could see she was in a state of shock. She was shivering and staring unblinkingly into space. After much prompting she drank the hot tea while Peter went into the shop for oatmeal.

  ‘Listen to me, lassie,’ he said urgently, taking her by the shoulders and staring intently into her face. ‘Was it reaction made you sick?’ Rachel stared at him dumbly.

  ‘Have you been sick other mornings?’

  She nodded. ‘But I was better after. I did my work. I’m not ill. I’m not …’

  ‘No, I’m sure you’re not ill.’ Peter sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. What a mess. He came to a decision.

  ‘I have a lot of work to get through today, Rachel. I need your help. Do you understand? I have sent Eliza away. I need you to look after the children.’ He shook her arm. ‘Rachel? Will you do that for me? Will you look after my children today?’

  ‘Oh, yes please!’ Polly cried joyously, moving eagerly to Rachel’s knee and peering earnestly into her face. ‘You will look after us, won’t you? Please, please, oh please?’ She tugged at Rachel’s arm. Rachel looked at her in bewilderment for a moment. Then Peter’s voice, very quiet, very firm, penetrated her numbed brain.

  ‘Rachel, I need you to stay here today, to look after my children. I am depending on you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’ Rachel’s voice was no more than a whisper, but she nodded. ‘Yes, I will look after the children until you return.’ Her face crumpled. ‘What if she is right? Where shall I sleep? Where shall I go? What can I do?’ Peter thought she sounded like a frightened child. Indeed she was little more than that, in her ignorance of life. She must know where calves came from, but it had probably never occurred to her to question how they got there. Anger surged in him. Ross must be responsible for this. As for Mistress Maxwell …

  ‘You’ll stay here for now,’ he said briskly. ‘Mrs Jenkins is coming to help with the washing and cleaning. Now, lassie, will you make the porridge? I must load the van and get on my way.’ He knew the best thing for Rachel was to keep her busy. The children would certainly demand her attention for much of the day and Mrs Jenkins seemed a sensible woman. He pushed a harassed hand through his thinning hair. He could only hope and pray nothing else would go wrong.

  Some of Peter’s deliveries were to isolated farms up in the hills and catching up on the previous day’s deliveries had delayed him. Just before midday he found himself less than a mile and a half away from Willie Maxwell’s cottage. A detour would delay him even more but he needed to find out whether Ross really had left Windlebrae.

  Ruth was pegging out the baby’s nappies when she saw his cart. She went down the path to the little wicker gate.

  ‘Hello, Peter! This is a surprise. I suppose you must have heard the Windlebrae gossip?’ She was smiling merrily. Peter stared at her. Ruth was not the kind of woman who took pleasure in the misfortunes of others.

  ‘What gossip?’ he ventured warily.

  ‘About the elopement of course. Ross and Rachel. They have run away together.’ She gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Oh, to be young and so much in love. They have gone off on the train together. Isn’t it romantic?’
>
  ‘It might be, if it were true,’ Peter said. ‘In my experience it’s easier to believe the course of true love never runs smoothly.’

  ‘Oh, you old cynic!’ Ruth teased, opening the gate wide. ‘Are you coming in for a bowl of soup and a cup of tea? I’ll do my best to cheer you up.’ Her face sobered and her eyes were sympathetic. ‘Though I know there is only one person who could make you truly happy, Peter.’

  ‘I came to see if Ross really has gone away?’

  ‘Oh, it’s true all right. He took the milk to the train yesterday morning, set the pony on the road for home by herself, then away they went. My father is staying here again. He rode over to the station to make sure Ross had not had an accident and been thrown out of the trap on the way home. The station master said he had gone on the milk train to Kilmarnock.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘The funny thing is he never mentioned Rachel getting on the train with Ross. But Willie’s Ma is convinced they have eloped together.’

  ‘Did she say that?’ Peter asked sharply.

  ‘Why, yes … at least she must have done. Willie would never have thought of it himself.’

  ‘And what does Meg say?’

  ‘Poor Meg. She’s hurt because neither of them confided in her. She had grown very fond of Rachel. She thought they were good friends even though Rachel is so young.’

  ‘Where was she yesterday?’

  ‘Meg? She took a sitting of eggs to one of the neighbours in exchange for duck eggs. Rachel was in bed. She had been unwell. She had gone by the time Meg came back ...’ Ruth broke off at the blazing anger in Peter’s eyes. She had never seen him look so grim before.

  ‘Now I will give you my version,’ he muttered through clenched teeth, ‘The truth.’ He gave Ruth a brief account of finding Rachel. ‘I would never have believed Ross would shirk his responsibilities. If I could lay my hands on him right now I would flay the skin off him.’ Ruth stared at him aghast, her face pale.

  ‘Rachel had been whipped, you say?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Yes. I have not seen the wounds, but I know a victim of whipping when I see one. I have no doubt she is telling the truth, poor lassie. It was in my mind to give her a home with us, helping to look after the children. I can’t do that now. Eliza MacDougall’s accusations will make her reputation worse. I darena’ think what she will have done to my trade already.’ He grimaced and proceeded to give Ruth an edited account of Eliza’s vile accusations. ‘The problem is, Rachel seems so innocent,’ he frowned. ‘The possibility that she might be expecting a child didn’t seem to have entered her mind until she heard Eliza.’

  ‘She has no mother, nor anyone else, who would warn her about such things.’ Ruth frowned. Meg might have warned her but in Ruth’s opinion her sister-in-law seemed almost as innocent and gullible as any sixteen-year-old herself, in spite of her age.

  ‘She really needs a woman to advise her,’ Peter frowned. ‘but she appears to be quite alone in the world. Do you really think Ross has no intention of coming back?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ruth shook her head. ‘I thought he was very fond of Rachel. I think we should tell Meg what has happened. She deserves to know the truth.’

  Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Ruth’s father, dressed for riding. When he heard of the two outlying deliveries which Peter had still to make he offered to take them for him.

  ‘That would help me enormously.’ Peter accepted the offer gratefully.

  ‘You will have time for some soup now. Willie will be in for his soon.’

  ‘All right,’ Peter agreed. ‘but I must not delay too long. Rachel seemed so distraught.’

  ‘This is market day. Willie’s mother will be away. It would be a good chance to tell Meg about Rachel. I’ll go while you and Willie have some soup. He’ll keep an eye on the children until I come back.’

  Meg was preparing the midday meal when Ruth reached the farmhouse. She smiled a welcome, then saw Ruth’s serious expression. ‘Are you alone? What’s wrong? The children …?’

  ‘They are with Willie. Peter Sedgeman is there too. He came to see if Ross had really gone away.’

  ‘Why? I mean why does he want to know?’

  ‘Did your mother actually say Ross and Rachel had eloped?’

  ‘Yes.’ Meg frowned. ‘Well, maybe she didn’t say so exactly. But that is what she seems to believe.’

  ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Meg.’ Ruth said quietly. ‘Rachel did not go with Ross on the train. Peter found her last night. She was miles from here. She must have taken the road leading to up to Ben Gowan at the crossroads. She wouldn’t know where any of the roads led come to think of it. She had been beaten and …’

  ‘Beaten! Ross would never harm Rachel! How could Peter think such a thing?’

  ‘Not Ross. It was … it was your mother. She used the whip.’ They both turned to where the whip was kept behind the door. Meg stared at Ruth incredulously, her eyes widening in horror.

  ‘No! I can’t believe it. Surely Mother would never …?’

  ‘Peter thinks Rachel may be expecting a child.’

  ‘Expecting a … Oh no!’ Meg slumped onto a chair.

  ‘He thinks your mother guessed.’

  ‘I-I can’t believe Mother would whip her! Especially if that’s true.’ Meg covered her face. ‘Poor Rachel. She will need help more than ever. She needs Ross. Surely he cannot mean to desert her, can he …?’

  ‘I should have known!’ Both women turned to look at Cameron Maxwell, sitting upright in his wooden armchair. ‘I should have guessed Gertie was up to something!’

  ‘Father! Don’t upset yourself, please,’ Meg pleaded urgently.

  ‘Upset myself? I promised Connor O’Brian I would take care of his bairn. Oh my God! What have we done to the poor lass.’

  ‘She is safe for now,’ Ruth reassured him quickly. ‘She’s at Peter Sedgeman’s. But I don’t think she can stay there.’ She told them about Eliza MacDougall and her threats to make a scandal and ruin Peter’s reputation and his business.

  ‘How could Mother treat her so?’ Meg was near to tears herself. ‘I must have been away with the eggs.’

  ‘Aye, and I must have been half-asleep in the closet. I remember Gertie insisted I should go. I must have dozed off because I nearly fell off the seat. It wakened me up.’

  If the situation had not been so serious Ruth would have gone into peals of laughter.

  ‘We must bring her back,’ Cameron insisted.

  ‘She wouldn’t want to return, Father. Or at least I wouldn’t if I was in Rachel’s shoes.’ Meg loved her father dearly. She couldn’t tell him how often she had considered running away from Windlebrae. It was for his sake she had stayed and now she felt even more torn between her loyalty to him and her love for Peter. ‘Rachel may be young and innocent, she may have been foolish too, but she is proud. She has done her best to earn her keep but Mother made her unwelcome from the day she arrived. But I never thought she could she be so cruel.’ Her voice shook with anger. ‘I cannot forgive her for this …’

  ‘I should have guessed Gertie was up to something,’ Cameron said again.

  ‘I am thankful it was Peter who found Rachel.’ Meg shuddered at the possibilities. ‘He is the kindest man I know, but he was right about Mother. He says she can’t bear to see other people happy, especially since Josh died. Ross has been happier since Rachel came. I think they were falling in love.’

  ‘Then why has Ross gone away?’ Ruth ventured.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Meg frowned thoughtfully. ‘Maybe this is his way of standing up to Mother. It seems I shall have to do the same.’ Ruth had never seen Meg look so angry, or so determined.

  ‘But Meg, you’re her own daughter. Surely …’ Ruth broke off at Meg’s bitter laugh.

  ‘That makes it worse. She thinks it’s my duty to stay here and help her, especially …’ She broke off. She hated making her father feel a burden. She looked Ruth in the eye. ‘Peter
asked me to marry him the night before we finished Willie’s hay. He understands how I feel about neglecting father. He promised to bring me back to help Mother two days every week. He’s so good, and so willing to compromise. I thought when Rachel was here too it would be a good solution. Mother would not even listen. As soon as I mentioned marriage to Peter she flew into a rage. She – she looked …’ Meg lowered her voice for Ruth’s ear alone. ‘Almost insane.’

  ‘Oh Meg, I am sorry. What did Peter say?’

  ‘He will probably never ask me to marry him again. Half of him agrees with Mother because he thinks he has only burdens to offer me with three small children. But the only life I ever wanted was with Peter.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me he had asked you to marry him, lassie?’ Cameron Maxwell asked with some distress. ‘He is a good man.’

  ‘Oh, Father, I don’t really want to leave you. Mother said she would not let me in the door to see you if I marry Peter …’

  ‘Eh lassie, as long as I’m here the door will never be locked against you, whatever Gertie might threaten. Now you listen to me, I’m not going to be here forever, and I may not be any use for work now but I don’t need nursing, as your mother makes out. In fact, I often think I’d be a lot better still without Doctor Jardine’s medicine. Now if you really love Peter, you go to him. Go now. Tell him so.’

  ‘Oh, I do love him, Father, I do, but I can’t desert you …’

  ‘Think about it lass. I appreciate you considering me, I really do, but it’s your life you have to think about. Now, not when I’m gone. Besides I’d like to see you happily wed, before I die. But it’s your decision.

  ‘Oh Father,’ Meg whispered hoarsely. ‘Don’t talk of dying.’

  ‘Dinna fret so, lassie. I’ve done my best to live a decent life. I’ve no fear of death. Just do what’s right for you. We’ll manage all right here. Maybe I should have done a bit more plain speaking years ago.’ He nodded to himself. ‘I never did like quarrels. You take after me, Meg, but this time you need to think about yourself. If you love Peter, go and tell him.’