At the edge of the forest, Macdonald called them together, so that he could explain what they were going to be doing, for the benefit of anyone who had not engaged in this sort of activity before. As he said this, he glared malevolently at Lady A, and she blushed anew.
‘We’ll enter the forest in silence. Any communication after that will have to be in signals, or in low whispers of the lowest kind. If we’re near a deer, we’ll draw attention to ourselves immediately, they have such sharp hearing. We’ll be walking against the wind, so that the deer don’t smell us coming. That way, we have the best chance of getting some fine photos of the grand creatures.’ There was a minute pause while he sneered. He much preferred to stalk with guns. ‘Is everybody ready?’
Four heads nodded in unison, each of the party heeding his instructions not to speak, and they entered the gloomy confines of the pine forest, with a final warning given in a whisper. ‘Watch out for twigs. They can snap with a crack that would warn every beast of the forest of our approach, in which case we might as well return to the castle and give up. They’re canny beasties who like their privacy, and to see them and be unheeded by them is a rare privilege, ye ken?’
Lady A had a feeling that she wouldn’t be very good at this. Although unexpectedly light on her feet for dancing, in general she had a poor sense of balance, and tended to be just a tiny bit clumsy in everyday life, to which Beauchamp and her not-quite-complete sets of glassware would bear witness.
As the forest began to close in behind them, she looked back longingly at the pile of snowshoes they had discarded, and wondered if she should give up her plan of trying to eavesdrop on conversations at lunchtime, for that would be the only opportunity, if Macdonald didn’t impose a code of silence upon them even while they were eating.
Maybe she should just let them get on with it, and wander around on her own for a while, before returning to the castle, which was, at least, a few degrees warmer than the outside. As she stood, deep in careful thought, a stag strolled across her vision, and she had to clamp a hand across her mouth to stop herself yelling out to the others.
She was downwind of it and, with no inkling of her presence, it sniffed the cold air, shook its antlers in a way that seemed to indicate its joy at being alive, then trotted off into the cover of the trees.
With a sigh of deep pleasure, Lady A smiled a smile of deep appreciation, as if she had been granted this close-up view as a blessing, then nearly jumped out of her skin as a voice at her shoulder whispered, ‘What a beautiful wild creature!’ Hand clamped over her mouth once again, she turned as quickly as she could, to find Beauchamp, smiling contentedly, just behind her.
‘How many times have I told you not to do that, Beauchamp?’ she hissed, still conscious that she should make as little noise as possible. ‘Anyone else would have trodden on a twig, but, oh, no, not you. You’re as silent as the wild creatures here. What do you want?’
‘The skiing’s finished, or at least, I’ve finished with it, so I just came out to make sure that you hadn’t fallen or got lost. Why have you stayed behind?’ He was careful not to mention Hugo’s mishap, as agreed, so as not to worry her.
‘For the same reason that the bear went over the mountain,’ she stated bizarrely.
‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Beauchamp, totally uncomprehending.
‘To see what he could see. That’s why I’m not staying with the group. There’s something out here; I’m convinced of it. I can’t find anything amiss in the castle, although I haven’t been down to the dungeons yet. That being the case, my nose tells me that there’s something amiss on this estate, which was at the bottom of the piper’s death.
‘If it’s not in the castle, then it’s somewhere outside. I know how big the estate is, but if there’s something iffy going on, it’s not going to be going on too far away from the castle itself, otherwise there would be a lot of to-ing and fro-ing by Land Rover, and there hasn’t been any evidence of that. It would also be inconvenient to have whatever it is secreted at a distance, when the weather’s like this, and the winters in this region are long and hard.
‘No, there’s something within footfall of the castle, and I’m determined to hunt it out and find out what the dickens is going on here. One man’s already lost his life. That needs avenging, if nothing else.’
‘You could be putting yourself in grave danger, your ladyship. If whoever is behind whatever it is becomes aware of you sniffing around like a bloodhound; well, they’ve killed once, already. Do you think they’d hesitate to do it again?’
‘It’s very bad form to kill guests who are old friends of the family, Beauchamp.’
‘The piper had been here all his working life, and he took over from his father before him, and they didn’t hesitate to kill him. I think you’re playing a very dangerous game, your ladyship. I shall do my very best to protect you, but even I have my limits.’
‘That, I simply don’t believe!’ declared Lady A, in a slightly louder whisper.
‘Hrmph!’ Beauchamp cleared his throat in embarrassment at the level of confidence she had in him, then proposed something practical for the present. ‘You wait here, and I’ll slip off and tell the others that we’re leaving the party, as you’re having trouble with your arthritis, and we’re just going to have a little walk before returning to sit in front of the fire.’
‘Blasted cheek! I’m as fit as a fiddle!’
‘It’s what’s known as a little white lie, your ladyship; then we can do exactly as you please, but I shall be by your side in case … anything happens.’
Lady Amanda unexpectedly gave in without a whimper, suddenly realising that ‘anything’ could happen out here in the wilds, too far away to summon help by her screams. ‘Will do, old stick. I’ll just hang around here in case that jolly old stag comes back for a gawp around.’
When Beauchamp returned, he found Lady Amanda on point, like a hunting dog who is pinpointing its prey. ‘What’s caught your attention, then, your ladyship?’ he asked. She did not move an inch, merely muttering inconsequentially, ‘I do wish you’d call me Amanda.’
‘That is a request with which I am unable, at this present time, to comply. What has attracted your attention so strongly?’
‘Look over there,’ she said, pointing with her stick. Just between that tallest Douglas fir and the misshapen pine. It’s quite difficult to distinguish with the sky so whitey-grey, but just keep looking.’
‘For what, exactly, am I looking?’ asked Beauchamp, with impeccable grammar.
‘Little puffs of smoke – it may be steam, but I’m not a connoisseur of the difference between them at a distance. There goes one now!’
‘I see what you mean. It’s coming from quite a distance away. What do you suppose it is, your ladyship? If it were a bonfire, even at this distance, we’d smell it.’
‘I have a fair idea, but I don’t want to say anything until we’ve had a chance to explore.’
‘That’s a lot further away than you might think. You’d never make it on foot.’
‘Then you’ll have to do it, if I can come up with a reason for why you’re not valeting for Hugo. Actually, I suppose that no one will really notice you’re gone, if we don’t say anything. If anyone asks about you, I’ll say you’ve come down with a stomach bug that’s very infectious, and you’ve put yourself in quarantine, as you don’t want it to spread through the other staff like wildfire. How about that?’
‘That will do nicely. Shall I go now, or tomorrow?’
‘Go now. I’ll make my way back to the castle, and if anyone asks me why I’m alone, I’ll say that you’ve already returned because of illness, and make a huge fuss about how awful it was when your symptoms first appeared.
‘If no one sees me, I’ll go straight to your room, and make a loud fuss inside it, groaning on your part, and cajoling you to get to bed, on my behalf. Then, if anyone hears what’s going on in your room, they’ll assume that we’re both in there. Give me your key, and I’ll loc
k the door when I leave, so that no one can burst in and see that you’re not there.
‘When you get back, make straight for my room, and if anyone stops you, say it must have been one of those swift and ghastly bugs, but that you’re feeling a lot better now, and were just going to report to me for duty, but make sure you get out of those warm clothes first, otherwise they’ll know you haven’t been back.’
‘Neat!’
‘Don’t you dare go American on me! Now, off you toddle, and if you’re not back by morning, I’ll have to report you missing. Good luck, old bean! Happy hunting!’
‘If I’m not back before morning, I’ll be somewhere out here, dead of hypothermia.’
‘If you get lost, there are bothies scattered all around for hunters to seek shelter. You’ll never be far away from somewhere to make yourself comfortable, if you haven’t got time to get back this evening.’
‘Thank God for that! I had visions of you having to defrost me, so that I could make early morning tea. I don’t really fancy turning into an icicle. And yes, before you ask, I do have a torch, and this little novelty,’ he announced, producing a blackjack from his pocket. ‘And if that’s no good, I’ll just have to use these,’ he continued, taking some brass knuckles from another pocket.’
‘Really, Beauchamp! That’s disgraceful! I can’t imagine why you thought you might need either of those, skiing. Well done! I’m not sure they didn’t base James Bond on you.’
Lady Amanda, by using a side entrance and a different staircase, managed to sneak up to Beauchamp’s room without being seen. It was to her advantage that the servants were all involved in preparing lunch, for although the stalkers had, in the end, been sent off with a picnic lunch, the guests who had gone off for a sleigh ride and the skiers would be coming back ravenous, after all that time spent in the cold, and would, no doubt, expect to be fed extravagantly, even though there was fat chance of that happening in this establishment.
She shot into her manservant’s bedroom like a guilty mistress, closing the door firmly behind her, locking it, and mentally preparing her script, in anticipation of a fine theatrical time. She’d loved acting as a child, and had actually appeared in one of the Belchester Amateur Dramatic Society’s productions. (They were known as the BADS, and for very good reasons other than their initials.)
With very mixed feelings, she got into the bed, making sure that her head made a good dent in the pillow, and wriggled around to make sure that the under-sheet was disturbed. Then she threw back the bedclothes and surveyed her handiwork. If anyone managed to get in here, they’d believe that Beauchamp was somewhere else, battling his bug.
She then pulled up an old oak chair that had been placed against the wall, and settled down to do her bit for the theatrical world. ‘Groan, moan, pitiful sigh.’ She produced these noises in her best contralto, sounding as male as she could, then switched pitches.
‘You just lay there, Beauchamp. The bathroom’s within easy reach, and there’s a plastic bowl in there, should you need it. I’ve filled up your water container, and I’ll pop up, hourly, to see how you are. Don’t worry about your duties. Hugo and I can manage quite all right on our own for a short while.’
‘Moooaan, slight pitiful wail of pain and despair. Groooaan.’ That sounded convincing enough, and she suddenly realised she felt like Ray Alan with her hand up an invisible Lord Charles. She even had her right hand in the air, as if operating a ventriloquist’s dummy and, noticing this, thanked God that she didn’t have her hand up the rear end of a green duck.
‘Stay exactly where you are, and I’ll bring you up a cup of tea later, and maybe some bread and butter. Now, just go to sleep and don’t worry about anything else, except getting better,’ she said in a raised voice, as she slipped out of the room and locked the door. That should do it, she thought, bustling out of the servants’ quarters and making her way back to her own room to get changed for luncheon.
Finally making her way downstairs, she ran into the sleigh-ride party arriving back from their invigorating slither through the snow. Drew and Moira Ruthven, and Siobhan their hostess, were chattering happily about the beautiful snowscapes they had seen, and St John Bagehot could be seen making a determined line for the dining hall, oblivious of his erstwhile companions.
Lady Amanda made straight for the open fire in the drawing room and found Hugo entrenched in front of it, a hot toddy in his hand and a woollen blanket over his knees. Taking the chair on one side of the blazing logs, she asked Hugo how he had enjoyed his skiing lesson, and the unlikely sportsman burst into peals of laughter.
‘I never realised I was an acrobat, but I did a fair impression of one, going down that slope. I was completely out of control, but it was terribly invigorating to realise the speed at which I was travelling, and the danger that that presented. Fortunately, I was well wrapped up and must have behaved rather like a rubber ball, for when I landed in a heap of ski poles and arms and legs at the bottom, I didn’t seem to be any the worse for it. I only hope there’s no bruising to come out.’
‘You fell,’ replied Lady A, acidly. ‘Have you no consideration for anyone else, Hugo. What would I do without your company, now that I’ve become so accustomed to it? How selfish of you.’
‘I’m fine, Manda, hic,’ said Hugo, with the slightest of slurs, and Lady A immediately rang for a maid and ordered a pot of very strong coffee, as Mr Cholmondley-Crichton-Crump was a little tired and emotional. It was only his accident that had pried a healthy slug of alcohol out of Cook, but it seemed to have gone to his head beautifully.
‘Really, Hugo. You’re well on your way to being puddled. What sort of a detective are you? A lush?’
The stalking party arrived back just as the sun set and darkness descended. All were ruddy of face, their breath smoking like a huddle of dwellings, as they approached the entrance. All seemed to have had a good time, and disappeared straight upstairs to get ready for dinner at the extraordinarily early time it was served to guests of the McKinley-Mackintoshes.
Just before the dressing gong was sounded, there was a minor emergency, when Beauchamp appeared through the front door, glassy-eyed, blue with cold, and staggering. Walter Waule and Enid Tweedie had been crossing the hall carrying various accoutrements that would be needed during the meal, and rushed to his aid.
Taking an arm each, they led him to his room, half-carrying him. Not only was he unable to walk any further unaided, but he was incoherent as well, and they feared for his health. Surprised to find his room already locked, Walter produced a master key, and went straight to Beauchamp’s bathroom to run a hot bath.
Enid helped him settle into a wing-backed chair and tutted about the state of his bed. It was not like Beauchamp to be lax about things like bed-making, and she was not party to Lady A’s earlier theatrical performance. After this, she made herself scarce, while Walter undressed the semi-conscious manservant and helped him into the steaming water. This was none of her business.
Instead, she headed for the kitchen quarters, and informed everyone that Beauchamp was ill, and she needed at least two hot water bottles and a hot milky drink to help revive him. After being obliged, she took these back upstairs and tapped on the door nervously. She was a coy woman, and just the thought of catching Beauchamp ‘in the buff’ made her blush – although not completely with embarrassment, she was ashamed to find.
Walter let her in and explained that he had already got Beauchamp into bed. ‘The water went cold almost immediately,’ he informed her. ‘His body just sucked all the heat out of it, and I took advantage of that to get him into his pyjamas and under the covers.’
Enid pulled back the covers bravely and placed one hot water bottle at his feet and one on his stomach, and put the cup of cocoa down on the bedside table. ‘Try to drink it, please. I don’t know what happened to you, but I’ll come back after dinner with a pot of tea, and check on your condition,’ she assured the still silent figure, whose arms had clutched at the hot water bottle at his mi
ddle like a drowning man clutching at a life-belt, and was now hugging it to himself like a teddy bear.
She pulled the covers back over his now recumbent body and tucked him in tightly, like a mother putting a sick child to bed, then left him in peace to sleep, Walter following her out of the room.
‘Well, what did you make of that?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t got the faintest idea, but I’ll leave him to recover a bit before I start questioning,’ replied Enid with a steely glint in her eye. This was Lady Amanda’s doing, she was sure, and she did not approve at all.
‘And, I’d be grateful if you kept it to yourself,’ she exhorted Walter, who nodded his head in agreement, wondering if there were something wrong with the manservant that compelled him to wander off into the wide blue yonder.
Lady A was going to get the rough side of her tongue, Enid thought defensively, for whatever foolish errand she had sent the poor man on, and in this weather, too.
Chapter Six
Dinner held only one surprise. As they all trooped downstairs, a pipe was making a noise like a cat in a mangle in the main entrance hall, and each of them looked at the others, to see if anyone had any explanation for this unexpected replacement for Jock Macleod, but it was a complete mystery to all of them.
Their curiosity was satisfied, however, just before the serving of the first course, when Sir Cardew banged a spoon on the table and announced that they had taken on a young piper for a month’s trial, and he was sure they’d all appreciate the presence of his music, not only for dancing at the wake for the previous holder of the post, before their unexpectedly prolonged stay was over, but as a reveille in the mornings. He didn’t look very happy as he announced this.
Hugo groaned, and leaned towards Lady A to whisper, ‘Not again! I had forgotten that there were two seven o’clocks in one day. I haven’t had to cope with that since I did my stint in the army. At that hour, I haven’t finished with the night, and would appreciate being left alone, to an hour that I consider to be the start of the day, and not at a time when I’m well away, and just getting my best quality sleep. And I’d completely forgotten that we were supposed to be having a wake for Macleod.’
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