Heather Song
Page 27
“Depending on the resolution of the suit, this may be nothing more than a meaningless piece of paper,” he said, indicating the document in his hand.
“Unless I am mistaken,” I replied, “I think you will find that it is a legally binding document upon which the lawsuit will have no bearing whatever.”
“What is it, Marshall?” asked Olivia, walking toward him.
“It alleges that your brother’s prenuptial agreement with Mrs. Reidhaven is null and void, that it was superseded by another document, and claims that, er…that Mrs. Reidhaven is the Duchess of Buchan.”
“That can’t be! It’s a forgery. Let me see it. You will pay for this, Marie! Who have you bribed to tell your lies? Marshall, are you just going to stand there and do nothing? I want her arrested, I tell you—for trespassing, for these, these false claims! This is absurd. Arrest her!”
The two policemen were by now inclined to do nothing but get out of there. And though he was the solicitor handling Olivia’s affairs, Mr. Warmington was sufficiently sobered by what he had seen to weigh his moves carefully before doing something he might later regret.
How far the standoff might have gone, or what might have been the final result, we would never know. Just then the man Farquharson appeared at the door, cap in hand, obviously intimidated as he saw the tense gathering. He begged Olivia’s pardon for interrupting, but had come to tell her that a man in a car was at the Port Scarnose gate being very insistent on the intercom and demanding to be let in immediately.
“Who is he, Mr. Farquharson?” she asked.
“A Mr. Crathie, m’leddy.”
“Bah! He was my brother’s rascal. He’ll do us no good. I’ve got all the solicitors I need. Send him away—I have no interest in seeing him.”
“He didna spier tae see yersel’, m’leddy.”
“Who, then?”
“Mrs. Reidhaven, m’leddy. I didna ken she was here, but he telt me tae gang an’ spier o’ ye.”
“You had better let him in, Olivia,” I said. “I am certain you do not want to be in a position of refusing my solicitor access to me. Mr. Crathie is my solicitor,” I said to Mr. Warmington. “He is handling my affairs and is the one who gave me those documents I just showed you. He is also one of the solicitors in charge of my late husband’s estate.”
“I see.” He nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Urquhart…let him in. I need to hear what he has to say.”
Still fuming, Olivia nodded to Farquharson, who disappeared. Warmington took the papers back from her. Luckily she had not ripped them to shreds. He then walked toward the two policemen. “I don’t think there will be any arrests today,” he said. “You had better get that cuff off her,” he said, nodding toward Alicia. “Then I think we can handle it from here, gentlemen.”
Only too glad to be dismissed, the two policemen were gone a moment later. Two or three minutes elapsed, then Adela appeared with Nigel Crathie at her side. She did a double take when she saw Alicia and me.
He walked in confidently with a briefcase in one hand and Adela left, though it wouldn’t surprise me if she stopped somewhere within earshot to listen. The two solicitors obviously knew each other and shook hands.
“What’s this all about, Crathie?” said Warmington.
“Only that the duchess”—he indicated me with a slight nod of his head—“upon learning that she still is the rightful Duchess of Buchan and the heir to the late duke’s estate, has returned from Canada to take possession of her property and assume her position.”
“Lies! Nothing but lies!” shrieked Olivia. “She’s an impostor! It’s all lies. Warmington, you fool—get rid of them!”
“I am afraid, Mrs. Urquhart,” he said, trying to calm her, “that we have little alternative but to take this up in court.”
“Mr. Crathie,” I said, “the way things stand, with our not exactly being welcomed here by my sister-in-law, Miss Forbes and I find ourselves in an awkward position. We will, of course, be staying at the castle, and thus we need to be able to come and go freely.”
“I understand, and I hope we can alleviate your awkwardness, Your Grace,” he said.
He turned to his fellow solicitor.
“It goes without saying that we will require keys to the castle,” he said, “all keys—as well as all access codes, so that my client and anyone associated with her is free to come and go.”
“After the matter is decided in court,” began Mr. Warmington. “At that time we will of course be willing—”
“You don’t understand, Warmington,” interrupted Mr. Crathie. “I mean now…today. I mean this minute—all keys and access codes.”
Mr. Crathie laid his briefcase down on one of the coffee tables, flipped the snaps open, and pulled out more papers. “I have already filed in Elgin,” he said, “a writ to this effect based on Mrs. Reidhaven’s right to regain and hold full possession of the property that is legally hers. You have seen the documentation, I believe.”
“I have seen what purports to be documentation to that effect. Its legitimacy, of course, will be subjected to the closest legal scrutiny.”
“By all means. But until then, we want full access, as I say, immediately. Any attempt not to comply or to inhibit or prohibit her full access would, I need hardly remind you, not be taken kindly when and if this case does come to court. I would suggest that you and your client consider your moves very carefully so that you are not found to be complicit in your client’s attempted illegal seizure of Castle Buchan and these crude tactics against my client.”
“How dare you!” spat Olivia.
“Caw canny, Mrs. Urquhart,” said Mr. Crathie, spinning to face her. “You cannot intimidate me, and I would suggest you do not try. Don’t forget how close your brother and I were. I am very familiar with your ways, Mrs. Urquhart. It may be that I know things you would prefer not became public. You would not do well to anger me.”
Alicia was watching all this unfold with eyes aglow with awe and admiration toward Nigel Crathie.
“You will be free to come and go as you please, Duchess,” said Mr. Crathie to me. “If there is the slightest attempt to prevent you in any way, you may contact either myself or Mr. Warmington, whom I am certain will be able to assist you. I know he will not want his client to be found in violation of this court order. I must ask you further,” he added, “if you want me to take steps to have Mrs. Urquhart removed from the premises. I can recall the police officers and—”
“No, Mr. Crathie, she may stay,” I said. “As both you and Mr. Warmington have indicated, final resolution of this will rest with the courts, and I would not want to prevent my sister-in-law access to the castle any more than I know she will not want to prevent mine.”
In a speechless white wrath, Olivia left the room. Warmington followed. When he returned ten minutes later, it was to present Mr. Crathie with a full set of keys and a paper indicating all the access codes to the three entrances to the grounds where Olivia had installed security gates.
Chapter Forty
Community Welcome
How pleasant ’twas in the sweet May morning,
The rising sun thy gay fields adorning;
The feathered songsters their lays were singing,
While rocks and woods were with echoes ringing.
—Dugald MacPhail, “The Isle of Mull”
Neither Alicia nor I nor Harvey Nicholls, as far as I knew, left the grounds the rest of that day. It was obvious none of Olivia’s minions had any intention of broadcasting news about what had taken place in the castle between myself and Mr. Crathie and Olivia and Mr. Warmington. Though she was sworn to absolute secrecy, obviously Tavia knew about Alicia’s mission to Canada. However, Alicia had told her nothing of what had happened since or even what we had planned. Yet by the next day everyone in Port Scarnose and Crannoch seemed to know that I was back and how things stood.
We saw neither Olivia nor Adela for the rest of the day and did not press our presence in the castle upon them. Having won t
he first skirmish with Olivia’s solicitor, Mr. Crathie advised us to move slowly, not attempt too much too soon, and not to unnecessarily anger Olivia further. We must allow her, he said, to get used to my presence by degrees.
It was obviously good advice. We kept to ourselves. We made no attempt to set about trying to move back in to the whole front of the castle. We spent our second night back in our little spartan room in the old servants’ wing. I was already fond of the place.
Mr. Crathie returned with my things, including Journey. We also asked him to bring us some food so we would not have to go down to the kitchen. He complied, bringing the unused groceries from the Crannoch Bay Hotel and more besides, topped off by a lavish take-out order of fish-and-chips and onion rings from Linda and Eddie’s Chip Shop in Crannoch. We were in heaven! We invited Harvey Nicholls in for the feast. He loosened up and began to laugh and joke and occasionally lapse into the same Scots he spoke with the locals.
The following day we got down to the business of trying to put some kind of life back together. Though it wasn’t my nature to be authoritative, I knew I had to stand up for my right not merely to be there, but to be in charge of the castle. It would be a level of control that Olivia would not easily relinquish. According to those who had known her far longer than I, control was the chief demon that possessed her. Alasdair had threatened her power to control him early in life, and she had done everything possible to ruin him almost until the day he died.
Now here was Alasdair reaching out from the grave and threatening to upset her apple cart just when she thought she had finally gained the control she had so long sought. She could do nothing more to him, but I had no doubt she would do everything in her power to destroy me. How far it would go, I had no idea. But I had to assert myself. If I did not, she would eventually grind me under her heel. There were no in-between options.
I knew what Alasdair would want me to do. It would be awkward for a while. But I had to take steps to assume my position with dignity and authority, for Alasdair’s sake. He had made his will clear. I had to be faithful to his wishes. I had not desired this. But if he desired it, I would try to carry out my destiny as his widow faithfully.
Accordingly, the following morning we began as quietly and courteously as possible to make plans to unobtrusively take up residence again in the front of the castle.
We had no intention of dislocating Olivia, but Adela was another matter. She had taken up residence in Alicia’s apartment on the second floor of the west wing. That occupation I did not intend to allow longer than necessary. I went to find her midway through the morning. I was glad she was alone.
“Hello, Adela,” I said.
She stared daggers through me.
“I wanted to let you know,” I went on, “that Alicia will be staying on as my housekeeper. As such, she will require her apartment again. I will appreciate you having your belongings removed by this afternoon. You are of course free to remain in any of the unused rooms of the castle as long as Olivia is here. I don’t know what arrangement you and she have, but it is only fair that I tell you that she will have no access to any estate funds and I, of course, will be unable to employ or pay you for your services. Perhaps she is paying you from her own inheritance, which I understand Alasdair left her. That is between you and her. As I say, you are free to remain with her, rent-free, for as long as she needs you. If either you or your mistress have questions, you may find me either in my studio in the Music Room, or in the south wing.”
All the while I was speaking, her expression revealed nothing. When I finished, a light glowed from her eyes so fierce that I could have been looking at Olivia herself.
In spite of Mr. Crathie’s cautions to Olivia not to hinder our movements, I thought it best that I remain in the castle. But about noon I sent Alicia into town with Nicholls to fetch her things and the Volvo. She was free, I said, to apprise Tavia of the recent developments. If they had any trouble getting back in, I said, they could ring me on my mobile and I would see to it. But they had the access codes to the gates and everything went smoothly.
By that afternoon we again had an automobile at our disposal. With Nicholls’s help, Alicia began to move her things from Tavia’s back into her former rooms. By evening she was again in possession of her apartment. I moved my things into a guest room across the hall. Campbell was friendlier to me than he had ever been during the years of my marriage to Alasdair, and came to me several times a day to ask if there was anything I needed. His wife, Jean, and young Sarah Duff were more cautious, still more than a little confused about everything.
I couldn’t wait to get back into the countryside—to walk my favorite loop down along the coastline to the Salmon Bothy, and to visit Ranald Bain! Alicia came and went freely for a few days without incident. Eventually I ventured out of the castle myself. I walked from the castle through Port Scarnose and to the promontory and my favorite bench where I had first met both Gwendolyn and Iain and where my Scottish adventure had begun. Everywhere people came up to me joyfully and enthusiastically, greeting me warmly with hugs and such exuberance that it brought tears to my eyes.
It is humbling to be loved. I was awestruck.
When I went into the co-op for the first time, the moment they saw me, several of the clerks, then all the customers in the store, began clapping and cheering. I was simply unprepared for the outpouring of affection from the community. If I thought about returning to my days of anonymity when I took walks along the sea and nobody knew who I was, I had another think coming. I would never be anonymous again.
Olivia caused us no trouble. The thought began to occur to me that perhaps I had misjudged her, that despite her outbursts she had now accepted the inevitable, and that everything would work out fine. Alicia, however, was privy to gossip that was not spoken around me. According to reports that came to her, Olivia was angrier than a wet hen to see how the community instantly opened its arms to receive me again as its duchess.
My first visit up the hill to see Ranald Bain was tearful and joyful. He of course had heard the general gist of what was known of my recent saga, though being out of the daily loop of village gossip he wanted to hear it from my own mouth, every juicy detail. When I had told my story, he shook his head and wept for joy. I think he was more proud of Alasdair than he was happy for me. And of course we made music together on his harp and violin—happy, gay, frivolous, fast…jigs and dances and wonderful Highland melodies. No laments or dirges or sad ballads on that day!
“An’ are ye plannin’ tae tak up the teachin’ again, lass?” he asked. “Ye’ll be the duchess noo, wi’ mair responsibilities nor afore—wi’ the affairs o’ the estate, an’ people comin’ tae yersel’ no’ yer husband. Ye’ll be a busy lady noo. But I’ll sair miss the harpin’ wi’ the ither lassies.”
“You won’t have to,” I said. “What good would all this be if I couldn’t do what I enjoy doing most in all the world—teaching people to play the harp? Resuming my teaching is one of the first things I intend to do, when the time is right. It is still awkward in the castle and will be until, you know, things are decided. But I look forward to the day when children are coming and going all day long for lessons. Our little harp ensemble will meet again soon as well.”
And so the first week of my return to Castle Buchan progressed without difficulties or ticklish situations. Life settled into something of a routine. We lived in what might be called a dual occupation of the castle by the Reidhaven camp, with myself and my allies; and the Urquhart camp, with Olivia and hers. But there were no hostilities. Olivia and Adela and one or two of the maids whom Olivia had brought in kept to themselves, as did Alicia and I. Though he wasn’t technically on my staff, Mr. Farquharson softened toward me, tipped his hat and spoke kindly whenever we met. I think he and Nicholls began to warm a little toward each other, too. That was good. Because once everything was resolved, I would have to decide what to do with everyone, whom to keep and whom to let go. I wasn’t about to have dissension within
the ranks of the castle staff.
I telephoned Mr. Jones in Portland and we had a long talk. He seemed delighted for me, but was also anxious to fill me in on the work of my father’s foundations, as well as bring me up to date on a few details pertaining to my father’s estate. I asked him if he could arrange for shipment to me of the two harps as well as a few other things I had in Calgary. How many times would I ship harps back and forth between Scotland and Canada? But as I told him, it now appeared that I would in all likelihood be here for a long while.
Mr. Crathie issued a brief statement to the press. Remembering the reporter McDermott from Inverness, Mr. Crathie now encouraged me to speak with him again, openly this time, and allow him to print a major story if he liked. The idea of being so obviously in the public spotlight was a difficult one for me, but I saw Mr. Crathie’s point. I couldn’t avoid it—I was a public figure now, like it or not. He felt the publicity was a good means by which to solidify my position in the public mind when and if Olivia’s contestation of Alasdair’s will came to court. We had to deepen the perception, he said, that everything was proceeding exactly as the duke had wished it, and that I was merely assuming the rightful role dictated by his final instructions.
In that light, I contacted Mr. McDermott and met with him again, this time on the record. Avoiding the fact of having crept through the tunnel in the dead of night, and not mentioning the tense scene with Olivia and her solicitor, I told him about Alasdair’s Edinburgh affidavit and Alicia’s trip to Canada to inform me of it, about my return and all the adjustments I was having to make now since my future looked so very different than I had anticipated.
As I had promised, I invited Ranald, along with Tavia and Cora and Fia, to the castle for tea and harping.
Making preparations for the ensemble’s meeting precipitated my second tense encounter with Olivia. I had of course been shown by Alicia and Nicholls to the out-of-the-way corner of the castle basement where Olivia had taken the few belongings I had not taken with me to Canada, as well as much of Alasdair’s bedroom and office furniture. Every time my thoughts toward my sister-in-law began to soften, something like this would remind me to be wary. Why, I asked myself, with the entire castle at her disposal, would she intentionally put our things in the worst possible place for dampness and mildew? It made absolutely no sense, other than intentional retaliation. When I recovered them, half the clothes were mildewed and moth-eaten. Though they were clothes I did not care that much about, the why of it was a puzzle. Many of Alasdair’s prized books had been boxed up and carted to the basement as well. I was dreadfully worried about their condition. The harps were in better shape. Being primarily wood, they could not be badly damaged in so short a time from dampness and cold. Several years in such conditions, however, would be different. There were some signs of mildew that I had to treat with extreme delicacy, being careful not to mar the finish, but otherwise they were okay. A little-known fact to most people is that mildew contributes its own share to the tone of all stringed instruments, harps included.