Pepita undressed Jeanie and gave her a little warm milk to drink, but the child was too exhausted to need anything more.
Only when she was fast asleep and tucked up cosily in a comfortable bed could Pepita think about herself.
“You’ll have to change for dinner in a few minutes,” Mrs. Sutherland said, “and I expect you’d like a bath after your lang journey.”
“I think first I should ask if I am to dine with His Grace,” Pepita replied.
“Och, aye, ma’am!” Mrs. Sutherland exclaimed as if she were shocked at the idea that she might not do so.
Pepita, however, was far from certain and, although she was convinced by Mrs. Sutherland that it was expected, she was apprehensive when finally she walked down the passage towards the Chieftain’s Room.
Before this she had said ‘goodnight’ to Rory, who, having eaten his supper, had put himself to bed.
She realised that he could not stay up any later, in spite of all the new things there were for him to see, because his head was nodding.
Finally without making any fuss about it, he agreed to go to sleep and leave everything else to be discovered tomorrow.
Because she was so nervous of what was waiting for her, Pepita, having had her bath in front of the fire in her bedroom and enjoying feeling the tiredness soak away from her in the warm water, chose the first gown that she found hanging in her wardrobe.
It was a very pretty one that had belonged to her sister, but was rather more sophisticated than anything that she owned herself.
She thought that this was a good thing because she wished to appear capable of giving the children their lessons, as she had done while they were living in Cornwall.
At the back of her mind all the time they had travelled to Scotland was the fear that, as she was a hated Sassenach, the Duke would immediately dispense with her services.
Because the idea frightened her even more than she was frightened already, she tried not to think of it.
She knew that, with no money and no previous experience of earning her living it was going to be very difficult for her to do so.
Once again she felt that no one could assist her except God, who had at least brought them to safety from Cornwall to Scotland.
She therefore prayed as she walked down the corridor that the Duke, if he accepted the children, would not transfer onto her his hatred and dislike of everything that was English.
The Duke was waiting for her in the room where they had been talking when they arrived.
If he had looked awe-inspiring and magnificent then, in his evening clothes with his lace jabot at his throat and the velvet coat with its silver buttons he looked very much a Chieftain.
As she walked towards him Pepita did not miss the glint of topaz in the top of his skean dhu, which was thrust into the top of his tartan hose and saw that his sporran was even more ornate and impressive than the one that Rory had noticed.
Because she had been so afraid of being late, Mrs. Sutherland had helped her dress and now she found that the Duke was alone in the room and there was no sign of Torquil McNairn or the other person who had been there when they arrived.
Because she had been so agitated and upset by the Duke’s reception, she had only vaguely realised that the other person was a woman and she wondered what relation she was to the two men.
Now, as she curtseyed to the Duke, she could think only of him and was aware that, while he was not scowling at her as ferociously as he had before, there was nevertheless an expression of hostility in his eyes and his mouth was set in a hard line.
“I hope, Miss Linford,” he began, “that you have been well looked after.”
She was quite certain that there was a sarcastic note in his voice, but she replied,
“Everybody has been very kind, Your Grace, and, as you must have realised, the children were desperately tired. They are very young to have attempted such a long journey.”
“A journey that was quite unnecessary,” the Duke retorted loftily.
“On the contrary, Your Grace, there was no alternative.”
“Why not?”
The question was sharp.
“Because I could no longer pay the rent for the house where they were living and the furniture, the horses and everything else my brother-in-law possessed had to be sold to meet his debts.”
She hoped that this would surprise the Duke and she thought that his lips tightened. She was aware that he looked at her harshly, almost as if he questioned whether she was telling the truth.
Then, as if he was too curious to keep silent, he said,
“Alistair had his mother’s money!”
“It was all spent, Your Grace, and so was everything my sister owned and, as it happens, everything I myself possessed.”
She thought that the Duke was not convinced.
Then he said,
“I find it hard to understand how this was possible, unless there was some sort of wild extravagance.”
“There was no extravagance,” Pepita replied, “but things are not as cheap as they used to be or perhaps as they are in Scotland. I assure you my brother-in-law did not indulge himself in any way, but we had to eat.”
She spoke almost sharply because she felt that the Duke was being unnecessarily critical.
It also made her angry to think that when everything in The Castle was extremely luxurious, her sister had had to pinch and save to have even a little comfort in their home,
And Alistair had never been able to afford to buy the horses he would have liked to own.
Almost as if he was aware of her thoughts, the Duke said,
“Whatever happened, it was of my son’s choosing.”
“That is true, Your Grace, and he never regretted it. But I know how homesick he was sometimes for Scotland and, while he was very happy with my sister, he missed his own people.”
She spoke very softly feeling that it would be impossible for the Duke to take exception to what she said.
Then, before the Duke could reply, Torquil McNairn came into the room and with him was the woman who Pepita had not been able to notice properly when they had arrived.
She was fairly young, perhaps about thirty, Pepita thought, and one glance told her that she was carrying a child.
“Oh, there you are, my dear,” the Duke said as she approached. “I suppose now I should introduce you to our unexpected guest. This is Miss Linford, Alistair’s sister-in-law.”
“I gathered that,” was the reply, “and I suppose she is aware that I am your wife.”
Pepita was in fact astonished since this was certainly something that she had not expected.
She had known that Alistair’s mother had died when he was quite young, but she was sure that he had never anticipated for one moment that his father would marry again.
Now, as she looked at the Duchess, she saw that she was plain and had what one might describe as a ‘homely’ face.
She had rather ugly red hair that was almost sandy and, as her eyelashes were the same colour, it gave her a somewhat ferret-like look.
Pepita curtseyed, but the Duchess did not put out her hand and, as she rose to her feet, she was aware that if the Duke disliked her, so did his new wife.
“Dinner is served, Your Grace!” the butler announced from the door.
The Duchess, without saying anything to Pepita, turned to the Duke and linked her arm in his.
“I did hope,” she said in a voice that seemed unnaturally loud, “that we would be able to have a quiet dinner tonight with just ourselves, but now we are quite a party.”
There was no doubt that she was being disagreeable and Pepita wondered if it would not have been better for her to have had something to eat in her bedroom, but it was too late now to suggest it.
Then, as the Duke and Duchess moved towards the door, she realised that Torquil was waiting for her and, as she looked at him, he smiled and she saw that his eyes were twinkling.
As they walked behind their host a
nd hostess, he said in such a low voice that only she could hear, just one word,
“Jealous!”
Dinner was delicious and, as Pepita was hungry, she enjoyed every mouthful of the salmon caught that day and the grouse that had been shot yesterday on the Duke’s moors.
Only after the piper had gone round the table playing the bagpipes and accepted the traditional dram of whisky from the Duke in a silver cup was she aware that she and the Duchess would leave the room together.
She had said very little during dinner, mostly because the Duke talked as if it was his right and he had no wish to listen to anybody else.
Also, because she was sitting opposite her hostess on the left of the Duke, Pepita was acutely aware that every time the Duchess looked at her the animosity in her eyes increased.
Torquil, on the other hand, was amusing and witty and actually made the Duke laugh several times, although it was obviously somewhat of an effort.
By the time the meal had finished, Pepita could not help thinking that the atmosphere, which she was very conscious of, was her fault and that both the correct and the dignified thing to do would be for her to leave The Castle as soon as it was possible to do so.
Then she knew that to leave the children would be wrong and something that both her sister and brother-in-law would beg her not to do.
‘Perhaps if they treated me as an ordinary Governess,’
she thought, ‘I could stay in the schoolroom.’
Then she remembered that the Duke might turn them all out tomorrow and, even if their visit was extended, they were obviously very unwelcome and she would never have a happy moment after she had left if he decided to exile Rory and Jeanie as he had his own son
‘I must save them,’ she thought frantically. ‘Somehow I must save them.’
When she and the Duchess had reached the drawing room and the Duchess had lowered herself carefully into an armchair in front of the fire, she said in a hard voice,
“I hope, Miss Linford, that, although my husband has offered you his hospitality for the night, you are making plans to leave as soon as possible.”
“I had hoped, Your Grace,” Pepita said very quietly, “that the children would be allowed to make this their home as there is nowhere else available.”
“That is impossible,” the Duchess retorted, “quite, quite impossible!”
Then, as if she thought that Pepita did not understand, she added,
“This will be the home of my children and I have no wish to be disturbed by usurpers or cuckoos in the nest!”
As she spoke, Pepita did understand and she felt that she had been very stupid not to realise before what was upsetting the Duchess.
If she gave birth to a son, he still would not be the heir to the Dukedom or Chieftain of the Clan, because the succession would go to the offspring of the Duke’s eldest son.
Pepita could appreciate the Duchess’s resentment at their unexpected appearance, but there was nothing that she could do about it.
But whatever the Duke and Duchess might feel, Rory was now in a very significant position.
Pepita knew, with a sudden determination that she had never had before, that she would fight for his rights and would not allow him to be sent away ignominiously or ignored as his father had been.
She therefore did not reply to the Duchess, but realised how irritated she was by the way she was tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair and staring into the fire as if the flames echoed the anger that was obviously seething within her.
Because she was worried, although it seemed impossible that the Duchess might be unkind to the children, Pepita said,
“I am sorry if our coming here has upset Your Grace, but honestly there was nothing else I could do. I felt that however incensed the Duke might have been with his son, he would not wish his grandchildren to starve through no fault of their own,”
“Very plausible, Miss Linford,” the Duchess said sneeringly. “But you cannot be so thick-skinned as not to realise that there is no room for grandchildren in The Castle, and certainly no room for a Sassenach!”
Before Pepita could think of how she could reply, to her relief the door opened and they were joined by the Duke and Torquil McNairn.
Because she felt she could not bear any more or face up to yet another cross-examination, she rose to her feet.
“I hope, Your Grace,” she said to the Duke, “that you will forgive me if I retire. Like the children I am very tired and I feel as if the wheels of the carriage are still rolling under me.”
She tried to speak lightly, but instead her voice sounded weak and rather helpless.
“Of course, go to bed, Miss Linford,” the Duke said. “And tomorrow we must discuss what can be done about this situation.”
“Thank you,” Pepita replied. “Thank you too very much for having us. I was very very frightened that we might have to sleep on the beach or in the heather!”
Because she was speaking with a sincerity that she could not help, she thought for a moment that the Duke was at a loss for words.
Then she curtseyed to him and to the Duchess, who ignored her, and turned towards the door.
Torquil McNairn was there before her and opened it.
Then, as she gave him a little smile of thanks, he said very quietly,
“You are wonderful! Go to sleep and don’t worry!”
She felt that his words touched her heart and some of the apprehension that had enveloped her since the Duchess’s unpleasantness melted away.
Then, as she ran down the passage to her own room, she could think of nothing except that for the moment she had achieved her objective.
She and the children had reached Scotland and at least, even if it was only for the night, they were safe.
Chapter Three
Mrs. Sutherland called Pepita at seven-thirty in the morning, telling her that breakfast was at eight-thirty and the Duke expected everybody to be in the breakfast room on time.
Pepita, who was still feeling sleepy even though she had had a good night, jumped up quickly.
“I expect the children are still asleep,” she said, “and I will not wake them for another half-an-hour.”
“It must have been a terrible journey for you all,” Mrs. Sutherland said sympathetically.
“It was rather exhausting,” Pepita answered, “and I was worried about what would happen when we arrived.”
“It was a real shock for us, miss,” Mrs. Sutherland said confidentially. “We’d heard his Lordship were wed, but we hadna heard he had two bonny wee bairns and I’m sure His Grace will learn to be proud of them.”
“I hope so,” Pepita said doubtfully.
She wondered if she should tell Mrs. Sutherland how
frightened she was that the Duke might decide to send them away and then she thought that it would be indiscreet.
She could only pray that what Mr. Clarence had called their father’s ‘magnetic charm’ would somehow make all three of them more welcome than they had been yesterday.
After she had dressed Jeanie and with Rory wildly excited about what he could see from his bedroom window, she took the children along the corridor to the breakfast room, which was on the same floor as the drawing room and dining room, but looked out over the moors.
She was relieved to find when she entered that only the Duke and Torquil McNairn were there and there was no sign of the Duchess.
Thinking over what had happened last night, she had come to the conclusion that her more dangerous enemy here was the Duchess.
She could understand that for her it must have been more of a shock even than for the Duke to learn that Lord Alistair had a son.
Torquil McNairn rose as she came into the room, but the Duke remained seated.
Because Pepita had told them what to do, the children went up to his side. Rory bowed and Jeanie curtseyed as they said together,
“Good morning, Grandpapa!”
She thought that the Duke was surprised at their good
manners, but he replied with a gruff “good morning” and then looked at Pepita from under his eyebrows.
She also curtseyed as she said,
“Good morning, Your Grace. I am sorry if we are a little late.”
“As it happens it is we who are early,” Torquil McNairn interposed, “because the Duke and I are going fishing.”
Rory gave a cry that was almost a shout and said,
“I can fish! I want to catch a salmon!”
Then before anybody could speak he added,
“Please, Grandpapa, I want to learn to shoot. Papa said that he would teach me when I was nine and I had my birthday three weeks ago.”
“You are too young,” the Duke said sharply.
“Papa shot when he was nine and you taught him how. He told me so!” Rory answered sturdily.
There was silence.
Then Torquil laughed.
“There is nothing you can say to that. Actually my father allowed me to carry a gun for the first time on my ninth birthday.”
“Then I can shoot?” Rory asked. “Please say I can shoot!”
Pepita thought as she sat down at the breakfast table that it would be difficult for anybody to resist the pleading in Rory’s voice.
Moreover, as he stood beside his grandfather she saw that there was a very obvious likeness between them.
“I will think about it,” the Duke conceded finally.
Somewhat reluctantly, as if he wished to go on arguing about it, Rory sat down at the table, and the butler, who Pepita had learnt from Mrs. Sutherland was called ‘Fergus’, put a bowl of porridge in front of him.
“I don’t suppose you know what that is,” the Duke said.
“It is porridge,” Rory answered, “and Papa said all good Scotsmen eat porridge and should be standing while they do so.”
Pepita smiled.
She remembered her brother-in-law telling the children that Scotsmen ate their porridge standing in case they were suddenly attacked by another Clan, when if they were sitting down they might be caught at a disadvantage.
She was aware, because he did not say anything, that the Duke was surprised at Rory’s answer and she said to him in a quiet voice,
“As I think it is unlikely anybody will attack you at this moment, it would be easier and far cleaner to eat sitting down.”
The Scots Never Forget Page 4
