by Bess McBride
“Look,” he said. “I would like to help you, but you have to give me something. Is it a sexually transmitted disease? Is that why you can’t say?”
I made some sound—something between a snort and a chortle.
“An STD? Oh, no!”
“I apologize if I have insulted you,” Gordon said. A smile played on the corner of his lips, reminding me yet again of Colin. Was he a descendant? What were the odds? I supposed there were a lot of Scots named Anderson.
“Did you ever have an ancestor named Colin Anderson?” I asked, completely off topic.
“Colin Anderson?” he repeated. “Well, yes, Laird Colin was my tenth great-grandfather.”
I caught my breath and stared at him. Colin’s great-great, and then some, grandson! I couldn’t believe it, and yet looking at him, I could. But that Colin’s descendent should be the one to pick me up on the road? What were the odds of that?
“And Beth?” My voice squeaked. “Was he married to a Beth?”
“Aye,” Gordon said. “Elizabeth Pratt Anderson. Yes. They had four children. I am descended through Alexander, the eldest son.”
So Beth did have her baby, safe and sound. And three more besides. I couldn’t wait to tell her when I got back. A sudden thought struck me.
“Wait! Are you the current earl?”
He nodded, if a bit sheepishly.
“Aye, I am titled the Earl of Halkhead. Though I don’t use the title overly much. It comes with little but a castle and some land. There is no fortune with it. I suppose I am lucky that we kept the land. My eleventh great-grandfather allowed men to fight at Culloden. That would normally have forfeited castle and estates.”
“Yes,” I said, somewhat dazed. “Do you own Gleannhaven Castle?”
“Aye,” he said, a broad smile lightening his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve heard of it?”
“I have,” I said. “I have. Did you just come from there?”
“Aye, I did.”
It seemed likely that a road had been laid in from the castle to this small stretch of highway somewhere other than the old horse-and-cart trail along the banks of the river, because Gordon had come from farther south.
“Somehow, I feel we have strayed from the more urgent subject,” Gordon said. “Where shall I take you, and how can I help you?”
“You said your sister is a doctor. Can I see her?”
“She is a neurologist. Do you think she could help?”
I bit my lip. I wanted to blurt out that I needed a doctor who could help me with typhoid fever, but I dared not.
“She can prescribe antibiotics, can’t she?”
“I imagine so,” he said. “I can’t say for certain. I’m willing to take you there.”
“Oh, thank you!” I said with relief. I pushed against the sides of my hoop, which threatened to spill over onto the gearshift. He noticed the movement.
“Have you been to a costume party then? A ball?”
“Something like that,” I said. I felt awful taking his help and withholding explanations to my appearance in the road and my clothing, but what could I do? We drove on through the darkness, and I asked a question that had been nagging at me.
“Have you ever heard of a James Livingstone?” I hadn’t wanted to ask but could not resist. I held my breath, awaiting Gordon’s response.
He seemed to think for a moment before speaking.
“I’m sure I have heard of or met someone named James Livingstone in my time. It is not an uncommon name in Scotland. Mine is common as well. It comes from the old clan system, where many people took the name of the clan.”
Not the answer I wanted.
“I mean, historically. A peer of your tenth great-grandfather’s.”
He shook his head. “Not that I recall.”
“Lochloon Castle?” I prompted.
“Lochloon Castle?” he repeated. “Nooooo, I don’t think I’ve heard of a Lochloon Castle. Where is it?”
“Somewhere nearby, on a lake. You have to take a boat to it.”
“Well, here I am, a Scotsman, and I don’t know of a local castle. I’m a disgrace, aren’t I? I cannot say that I’ve ever heard of Lochloon Castle.”
I took several deep breaths to ease the knot in my stomach. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t heard of Lochloon Castle, did it? I knew it had existed. That it probably no longer stood broke my heart. Otherwise, I was sure Gordon would have heard of it.
“Well, maybe it doesn’t exist anymore.”
“How did you hear of it?”
“Oh, an old book on castles,” I said airily, as if my heart wasn’t breaking. Such a beautiful place. How could Gordon not know of the castle if it still existed?
“I do not mean to be rude, Maggie, but you are the vaguest person I have ever met. You won’t tell me how you came to be on the road. You won’t tell me why you are dressed in period costume. You won’t tell me why you need antibiotics. And now, I sense that you are privy to information on an old castle that may no longer exist, a castle that belonged to a man named James Livingstone. We can ask my sister. She knows more about family history and the history of Scotland than I do.”
My lips twitched, and I almost smiled at Gordon’s summation of the situation. Yes, I was vague...about almost everything. He wouldn’t have believed the truth, and I really didn’t want to even try to convince him that I had traveled back in time. I didn’t have time.
“I’m so sorry. I really am. And I appreciate all that you’re doing for me.”
He shot me a sideways look and returned the smile. “I think I’d better call my sister and tell her to expect one more guest.” He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, and I gasped.
“You have a phone?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh, can I use it? My cousin Julie, she’ll be wondering what happened to me.”
“Certainly, here,” Gordon said as he handed the phone to me. I took it and then stared at it uncertainly.
“Oh, dear,” I murmured.
“Is there a problem? If it’s an international call to America, you just dial 01 and then your number. I have some business dealings in America, so I have to call on occasion.”
“Well, I don’t think she has her phone on. We put our phones into airplane mode. I can e-mail her if she has Wi-Fi wherever she is.”
“Ah! So your cousin is here in Scotland. Do you know where she’s staying?”
“Glasgow.” I stared at the phone again.
Gordon laughed, a sound that reminded me once again of Colin. Oh, how I wished I’d met one of James’ descendants! Then I would know without a doubt that he’d survived.
“Glasgow is a big city. Is she staying at a hotel?”
“Yes, that was the plan. We were going to stay at the Thistlebriar Inn.”
“Well, that’s no problem then. We’ll just call them up and see if she’s there. Just push that button for the Internet, and look up the hotel.”
I did as Gordon said and found the number for the hotel. I dialed, wondering what on earth I was going to say to Julie...or in front of Gordon.
“Thistlebriar Inn,” said a delightfully sweet, young female voice with a thick Scots accent.
“Hi there, my name is Maggie Scott. I was wondering if my cousin Julie Scott is staying there?”
“Miss Scott?” the voice grew shrill. “Miss Maggie Scott? Oh, Miss Scott, wherever have you been? Your cousin has been most distraught. The police have been looking for you. We thought you had been abducted. Where are you?”
My heart sank. Apparently, my disappearance had gone beyond just Julie and me. Of course. She would have called the police. I would have called the police if she’d disappeared.
“No, I haven’t been abducted,” I rushed in to say, blinking at Gordon as he turned to stare at me. “I’m quite all right. Could I talk to her? Is she in?”
“I’ll ring her room,” the clerk said. “I am so glad to hear that you are safe and sound.”
&nbs
p; “Thank you,” I said. I looked at Gordon out of the corner of my eye. He had returned his eyes to the road, but I knew he was listening.
“Maggie?” a voice shrieked in my ear. I pulled the phone away from my face for a moment. I knew Gordon could hear Julie’s voice. “Where are you? What happened? Where did you go? Are you all right?”
“Julie! Julie!” I tried to stop her questions. “I’m all right. I promise I’m all right. I’m on my way to Fort William right now. I’m so sorry I disappeared. I really can’t explain it to you right now. I wish I could.”
“What do you mean you can’t explain it? Fort William? Where have you been for the past two days? Why did you leave me there without a word? How could you do something like that?”
Julie had gone from worry to anger, and I didn’t blame her. Like Gordon, I was giving her no real explanation, no valid excuse for disappearing.
“I’m sorry, Julie. I didn’t abandon you. I didn’t leave voluntarily, but I can’t say more than that. I am okay. I haven’t been kidnapped, and I need to get to the nearest town as soon as possible. A very nice man has picked me up and is giving me a ride to Fort William.”
“I don’t understand anything you’re saying, Maggie. Someone picked you up? From where? I really don’t understand. What’s in Fort William? You knew I’d be in Glasgow. Our flight is tomorrow. I was going to cancel it and wait here while the police look for you, but I don’t see the point.”
I winced at the note of bitterness in Julie’s voice. Someday I’d be able to explain everything to her, but not right now. And certainly not with Gordon listening.
“Take the flight, Julie. I can’t leave yet. I have something I have to do. I’ll explain everything to you the next time I see you. I don’t know when that will be though. I’m so sorry to scare you like this. Could you tell the police I’m okay?”
“I think you should call the police and tell them yourself,” Julie said. “Glasgow police.”
“Oh, Julie,” I said with a sigh.
“Don’t ‘Oh, Julie’ me,” she said. “I’m not the one who vanished and who can’t seem to explain why. What do you want me to do with your luggage? Leave it here at the hotel?”
I hadn’t even thought of that.
“No, please take it with you. I know that’s a lot to ask.”
“You bet it is. What about your purse, your cell phone, your passport? You need your passport and money, if nothing else.”
I would need my passport when I returned.
“Oh, that’s right. Could you ask the hotel to keep them in a safe for me?”
“Okay,” Julie said in a grudging tone.
“Julie, I’m so sorry. I will explain when I get back.”
“And when is that, do you suppose?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“Well, are we talking days? Weeks? A year?” Julie’s voice squeaked at the end.
“Not a year, but it might be a long time.” I wasn’t leaving until I was sure James was recovered and out of danger, that is if I could get back in time with antibiotics or whatever he needed.
By now, I could see the lights of what I supposed was Fort William.
“I’ve got to go, Julie. Thank you for helping me out, and I’m sorry.” I ended the call quickly before I heard any more of Julie’s anger, and I handed the phone back to Gordon.
“Thank you,” I said. “Is that Fort William?”
“Aye,” he said. “I had better call my sister.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course.”
He punched in a number and waited for a moment before speaking in a low voice.
“Hello, sis,” Gordon said. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. A moment passed before he spoke again.
“Yes, I’m almost there. A funny thing happened on the way to your house though. I’ve picked up a guest. I hope you don’t mind. She’s American, a little bit lost.” Gordon gave me a sideways glance and a half grin. “And she needs some help. Some medical help.”
I could hear a female voice on the other end, understandably loud by now.
“No, no, she’s not ill or injured, but I think she has an acquaintance or a friend who is. I’m sure she’ll explain. I couldn’t very well leave the poor girl by the road. I knew you would understand.”
I couldn’t tell if Gordon’s sister was understanding or not, but the conversation ended with him telling her he would be there shortly.
“That’s that then!” Gordon said. “My sister is confused, but she’s a gracious woman.”
“I really appreciate your help, Gordon. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I could not help but overhear some of the conversation with your cousin. She sounds quite upset.”
“Yes, she is. I disappeared on her, and I couldn’t tell her why. Just like I can’t tell you...or your sister.”
“I’m still not sure she can help you with what you need, but we’ll just have to wait and see.”
I nodded.
We drove on through the night, passing by Fort William before turning onto a narrow paved road. Gordon slowed before a set of open iron gates and drove through them. What I would call a mansion, but I supposed British people might call a country house, lay at the end of a short tree-lined drive. Two stories of lovely white plaster architecture glowed from the soft exterior lighting. Myriad symmetrical windows highlighted the large Victorian home.
Gordon pulled up in front of the house, and a woman opened the front door. Highlighted from the back as she was, I couldn’t see her face nor the face of the tall man who stood behind her. She descended a wide set of stone steps and approached the car as Gordon climbed out.
They hugged briefly, and Gordon came around to help me as I opened the passenger car door. His sister came around to my side of the car as well. Her expression, now visible from the lights of the house, was one of surprise as Gordon and I struggled to get my skirts and pannier out of the car. After some exertion, I popped out and would have toppled over if Gordon’s sister hadn’t caught my arm with a laugh.
“My goodness!” she said in a high-pitched voice. Shoulder-length curly dark hair swung around her slender shoulders. Like her brother, she bore a resemblance to Colin, although to a lesser degree. “Gordon never said you’d been to a costume ball!”
“She hasn’t, sis. I’m not very sure where she has been. Perhaps between the two of us, we can extract that information from her.”
“Well, come inside. Come inside,” she said in a no-nonsense voice. “You’re not even wearing a coat, though I can’t imagine you’d get cold in that dress.”
I followed her up the stairs, keeping an eye on Gordon, who pulled a small canvas suitcase from the backseat of his car. No matter what happened, Gordon was my ticket back to the river. I doubted he knew that yet.
“My name is Elizabeth. I go by Beth. And this is my husband, Gerry.” I blinked at her nickname and wondered if the name ran in the family. Were these really Beth’s descendants?
Beth II stopped at the top of the stairs, by the tall, willowy man with a thatch of thinning white hair. Gerry stuck out his hand, and I shook it.
“Welcome,” he said. “We understand you’ve had some trouble?”
He stood back and allowed us to enter. A large foyer greeted me, not unlike the entrance to Gleannhaven castle, if a little more modest. In this case, carpet protected the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor.
Beth II urged us forward into a room, which I assumed had been a drawing room or parlor in its heyday. Lovely pastoral paintings festooned the pale-green walls. Gold and green antique furniture, in excellent condition, dotted the room.
Beth guided me to a comfortable-looking forest-green velvet settee, and I sank into it, wondering how I was ever going to get up again.
“Let’s have some tea,” she said, picking up a small bell and ringing it. I watched in fascination as a woman came to the door. Older, plump and dressed conservatively in a dark-gray blouse and skirt, she nodded w
hen Beth spoke quietly to her, and turned away at the door.
Beth herself wore dark-gray slacks and a warm yellow sweater over a light-colored blouse. Her husband also wore dark-gray slacks. His sweater was pale blue over an ivory open-collar shirt.
For the first time, I was able to fully study Gordon in the soft lighting of the drawing room. I had been right. He bore a remarkable resemblance to Colin, even down to the longish hair curling around his neck. In the act of removing his jacket, he stopped and eyed me, studying me from head to foot. He gave me a reassuring half smile.
I responded with a nervous smile of my own, clasped my hands on my lap and waited for an opportunity to speak. My heart pounded. How on earth was I going to ask for antibiotics for typhoid fever? What kind did I need?
Beth took a seat near me in a velvet-cushioned chair and crossed her legs. Gerry sat nearby, and Gordon leaned on the white decorative mantel above a fireplace. When Beth urged him to sit, he elected to stand.
“Let’s get right to it then, shall we, Maggie?” Beth said. “Gordon said you need medical help. Are you in pain? Have you been injured? Are you ill?”
I shook my head.
“No, it’s not for me,” I said. How I wished I could tell them the truth, that I knew their ancestors, Colin and Beth!
“It’s for a friend of mine. He has an infectious disease very uncommon in this day and age.”
“But you must bring him to the hospital!” Beth said. “What disease do you think he has?”
I swallowed hard. I just had to say it.
“Typhoid fever.”
Beth gasped, and I heard Gerry mutter. Gordon’s dark eyebrows shot up.
“Typhoid! Here in Scotland? Oh, that’s highly unlikely,” Beth said. “Was he diagnosed by a physician? With laboratory tests? Did he acquire the disease elsewhere and carry it here?”
I nodded.
“Yes, he has been diagnosed by a physician. They don’t have access to whatever antibiotics I need. He didn’t pick the disease up anywhere else.” I regretted that response. Maybe I should have said he had just come from another country.
“But he must have contracted it somewhere. Health Protection Scotland must be notified. Where is he now?” She leaned forward and fixed me with a severe stare.
