The Auction
Wednesday 22nd December 1897
After we had breakfasted I joined the thirteen art collectors in the Great Hall. The items for sale numbered forty and each was listed on a large blackboard that had once been housed on the wall in Euan’s old schoolroom. Mr. Buchanan, assisted by the butler, Mr. Rennie, displayed the fine art, jewelry, gold, statuary, ceramics, and ornaments one-by-one and as was customary, the group made bids until agreement on the price was reached.
I made bids on several rings, the bejeweled—and apparently counterfeit, Tiger head ornament from the throne of Tipu Sultan, the slain ruler of the Kingdom of Mysore, and I bid on an ancient Egyptian bronze statue of a cat representing the goddess Bastet. All went exactly as Sebastian Cavell had predicted. It was as if I was a ghost and Mr. Buchanan did not see or hear me. I tried raising my voice, much to my personal discomfort for I did not wish to be the center of attention. The public snubbing was most vexing and did not go unnoticed, but I avoided looking at Cavell…or Artur Engles as he had returned to using his disguise. I was unwilling to stand up and cause a scene for there was only one true prize here for me and The Staff of Asklepios had been removed from sale—a fact that gave me a little comfort. And so after the charade of the auction was done and I had not managed to purchase even a diamond tie pin, I decided it was time I had it out with Euan once and for all.
He had stood at the head of the room besides Mr. Buchanan and yet he refused to meet my eye at all throughout the vexatious auction. The collectors left the hall one-by-one to arrange with Mr. Buchanan for the payment of their purchases and shipment of any items too large to take with them when they departed. I caught Euan’s arm as he was about to escape upstairs.
“Lord Ardmillan, we need to have private words.” My voice sounded to stern and echoed in the hallway. I saw the concern etched on my old friend's face.
“Can it not wait until the guests have departed? I have arranged everything for this evening.” He wagged his brows playfully. However, I was not in a playful mood and this false facing did not give me a second of comfort.
“No, this matter cannot wait.”
“Oh,” he said disappointedly. I would not let him wriggle his way out of this.
“Fine, come to my bedchamber in ten minutes.”
“What the devil is going on?” Euan harrumphed as soon as he opened his bedroom door to me. He looked disheveled, his shirt hung loosely from his waistband and was unbuttoned displaying a thatch of silver chest hair. He did not wear the face of a man who had made some headway in relieving himself from inherited debt. If I’d done my sums correctly the auction had earned the estate the vast sum of thirty thousand pounds.
“I came to ask you the same thing! And don’t play the innocent with me Euan Ardmillan.” I reprimanded. “I know your games and manipulations far better than any man!”
“Hmmm, I suppose you do!” He relented, “Come along in Ben; take a seat by the fire.”
I entered his over warm bedroom, decorated with rich burgundy wallpaper, and luxurious gold velvet curtains with red fringing. His fire was double the size of the fire in my chamber and it threw out a furnace of heat, so much so that I was sweating within a minute of taking a seat and watching Euan stride to his drinks cabinet to pour a whiskey for each of us. I mopped my brow with my kerchief and looked towards his vast four-poster bed where on the side table I saw an inlaid timber bottle casket. It was the very same one that the Staff of Asklepios was kept in. I stared greedily at it, my hands itching to hold it and gaze at the intricate carving on the shiny black obsidian rod. So, it appeared Euan was true to his word in this matter at least and determined to have me carry out this sex ritual with him tonight. I had agreed, but I could always change my mind if the answers he gave me now were not sufficient.
My trunk was packed in readiness for leaving. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the suitcases and trunks of the other guests bumping along the hallway as they prepared to vacate the hall and catch the midday train from Fort William to Glasgow. No one wanted to chance getting stranded at the dismal, unseasonal Dunecht Hall in a country that did not even celebrate Christmas.
“Now what’s all this about?” Euan strutted to the lounge area holding two tumblers of whiskey.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That your father left a clause in his Will stating that I was the sodomite who led you astray, therefore I was not permitted to own anything from his precious damnable collection,” I said furiously.
“Ah!” Euan’s eyes sparkled guiltily.
“Who told you?”
“That is of no import. Is it true?”
Euan slumped languorously on the armchair opposite me and threw one leg over the arm. The position was jointly alluring and discomforting. He tossed back a deep swallow of whiskey and then let out a sign.
“He found out about us… about our games in the Billiard room… and on the Billiard table to be more precise!”
“He did?” I was flooded with a wave of deep shame. ”He didn’t… see us at it?” I recalled how bestial I became while taking Euan. My cheeks burned.
“Oh no. Apparently, we didn’t clean up well enough afterward. That same evening he was having a game of Billiards with Lord Viceroy. He took a shot and the… ball…well… stuck on the felt.” Euan smirked.
“No!” Now my shame was mixed with embarrassment. Lord Ardmillan must have been furious.
“Father called me into his study the moment your carriage had departed. He beat me and told me I was a disgrace to the Ardmillan family name. Then he pulled me by the ear into the billiard room and showed me the stains of our dried cum on the felt of his precious fucking table.” Euan said disdainfully.
“I feigned ignorance, of course, however, the then under-butler, Hamish Renfrew had quite the habit of listening at doorways. He admitted to my father that he listened to us partaking in…congress, as it were.”
“The bastard!”
“Indeed. My father then handed me an axe and said he would not have another soul play on a table that had been infected with sin. He made me chop that damnable billiard table into matchsticks and burn it in the garden.”
“I’m so sorry!”
“Not as sorry as I am. The bastard only made me burn it because we shot our seed over the felt. That table would have been worth two hundred pounds in today’s money!” Euan said incredulously.
I wished I’d have known of the abuse Euan endured after I’d left Dunlecht Hall. No wonder he was colder toward me when he returned to university in the New Year. Back then I didn’t understand his change of heart. We’d had such a wonderful time of exploring and loving, and then he was detached and cold.
“He demanded that I was to never see you again. I told him that it was a bit bloody difficult as we were on the same course of study and shared rooms. He told me that if I didn’t end it, he would. If I hadn’t snubbed you I was sure he could have seen to it that you were injured in some way, or at least removed from the university. That’s why I ended our relationship. I was trying to protect you!” Euan insisted.
“I thought you hated me and I was confused for such a long time, wondering what I’d done wrong!” I admitted. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The tumbler of whiskey was gripped by my shaky hand. Gods, if I’d have known all of this thirty years ago my life could have been…different. Euan’s disconnection wounded me so deeply that I don’t believe I have ever recovered. Even though this was painful to hear it was a gift of sorts—necessary to assist me in letting Euan go for good.
Euan never answered so I tried another question. “Why did you invite me here for the auction if you knew I would not be permitted to bid?”
“I need you for the ritual. I couldn’t just come out and say, Hello Ben, haven’t seen you in years, will you fuck me with the Staff of Asklepios to restore my virility, could I!”
“I suppose not”, I smirked.
“And this v
isit will still give you a profit. I will sign the Obsidian Staff over to you after the ritual, and we still have the matter of the art sale your auction house will do for me. So we are both victors, are we not?”
No matter how attractive I still found my old friend, it appeared that what Sebastian Cavell had stated was true. I needed to press Euan on the art he wanted me to list for sale. I had inspected the canvases before breakfast and wanted to look him in the eye and watch him lie to my face.
“I have, shall we say, reservations about several of the canvases you wish me to auction at Hannan’s.”
Euan’s brows rose, “Reservations?”
“As to their authenticity.” Euan’s pupils blew wide and I understood then that he knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Some information was passed to me.”
“By whom, dammit. Tell me! I’ll gut the blaggard!” Euan sounded just like his father. He stood in outrage and paced back to his drinks cabinet. He trembled with rage as he poured a shaky drink.
“The brushwork is good, but to an expert eye like mine, I know that the Botticelli, Van Dyke, Holbein, and the Pero di Cosimo are wrong. I was also informed that you sold the originals for your father in the Americas seven years ago. Did you really think you could play me for a fool?”
Euan tossed back his drink and then turned to look at me. His face was unreadable. He shrugged sheepishly and then with uncharacteristic coldness said,
“It was worth a try old boy, wasn’t it!” Those words were like a knife to my gut. I stood angrily,
“Damn you to hell! You would have ruined my reputation and my business, and for what? A few thousand pounds. Did you care for me at all Euan, ever?”
“I did care once, until I was forced to marry to cover up the rumors that the bloody Butler was passing around. He blackmailed father for years, you know.” Euan said morosely.
”I did not.”
“The money from the art sale would have paid for my new life on the continent.”
“But you just made thirty thousand pounds!”
“That goes toward the death duties and my father’s debts. Mr. Buchanan is a stickler and I will not see a penny of that money. These are desperate times, Ben. I have a wife and two sons to see to, as well as the mess my father left his finances in.”
“You were planning to leave everything behind? Your wife, your children!”
“Possibly.”
“You absolute coward!” Not for the first time in the past few days I was revolted by Euan and my naivety in believing him to be the same man he had been when we were together.
A sudden urgent knocking came to the door.
“My Lord, come quick,” a serving girl hollered. Euan angrily dragged open the door.
“The chimney in the Great Hall is afire” She wailed.
Without a though both Euan and I ran for the staircase. When I had reached the bottom rung I could see the thick black smoke billowing from the doorway to the Great Hall and hear the ungodly roar of the fire before I even set eyes on it. Mr. Rennie and his under-butler came running from the kitchen. They had neckerchiefs over their faces and between them were carrying a sodden bed sheet from the laundry.
“Don’t ye worry mah Lord, it’s all in hand, we’ve done this before.” Mr. Rennie reassured. Euan looked stricken as we placed our pocket-handkerchiefs over our mouths and rushed into the Great Hall. Around the hearth was blackened with soot, and the flames raged red and orange. Mrs. McKelvie had clearly tried to move furniture out of the path of the flames because the furniture was strewn haphazardly away from the fireplace. She had fainted on the floor just inside the doorway. Euan stooped to gather her up and take her outside for some fresh air. Mr. Rennie and his colleague unraveled the sodden sheet and then cautiously approached the hearth. They stood on either side and with a roar of, “NOW JIM!” the two men covered the front of the hearth with the wet sheet starving the fire of oxygen. Acrid black smoke billowed and I could stay in the room no longer.
I rushed out of Dunecht Hall to see a line of three carriages heavy with baggage in the snow-covered courtyard. The other guests were either sitting within a carriage or standing out on the snow gazing up at the plumes of black smoke billowing from the broad chimney above the Great Hall. I saw flames at the top of the chimney, which was a good sign because it meant that the fire was close to burning itself out. Euan sat on the step, Mrs. McKelvie cradled in his arms. She looked so small and frail, like a discarded doll.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes, I think so, Jenny’s gone to get some smelling salts, and the kitchen boy, Jack, is riding to the town to get Dr. Sinclair to pay a visit.”
Two kitchen maids then came rushing out of the house with blankets and smelling salts. They and took Mrs. McKelvie from Euan’s arms and continued with her care.
“Is the fire out? What’s the damage?” Euan said as he stood and arched to stretch his back. His shirt still hung open and his nipples stood erect with the piercing cold.
“I believe the fire is out, and there is smoke damage mainly.” I grabbed one of the blankets that the maids had brought with them and put it over Euan’s shoulders. He looked a little dazed and nodded his thanks,
We re-entered the house together to see the two butlers retreating from the hearth. The fire was out, yet smoke billowed in a cloud and hung at the ceiling.
“Open all the windows”, Euan called.
“Aye M’Lord. It’ll take a while to disperse. You'll have te sleep in one of the back rooms tonight.” Rennie said.
That reminded me. I had not seen hide-nor-hair of Mr. Artur Engles after the auction. He had purchased the Egyptian cat statue and a canvas of a muscle-bound Roman Centurion. But he was not outside the house with the departing guests. Euan and I were supposed to be carrying out this blasted ritual tonight. I had a sneaking suspicion that Sebastian Cavell’s absence meant that all was not well. As if sensing my disquiet, Euan and I exchanged a glance then made for the stairs. He had left the door to his bedchamber wide open and the box containing the Staff was on his bedside table.
On reaching his bedchamber my worst fears were realized. I had traveled to Scotland in the dead of winter for naught and as Cavell predicted, I would be leaving this house today empty-handed. The bottle casket that had lain on Euan’s bedside was gone.
“NO…NO! It cannot be. Surely someone is playing a jest.” Euan turned on me. “What did you do with it… The Staff?” He pushed me roughly against the open door of his chamber. I was stunned by the violence in his action.
“What did you do with it? Tell me, Ben, tell me! It was the only bloody thing I had left to bargain with. Without it, I’m ruined!”
I was horrified by Euan’s outburst and his admittance that the Staff was his bargaining tool. He did not intend to give it to me as a gift after all. That was the last straw. I was done with Euan Ardmillan and his lies.
“I was downstairs with you! I have no idea what happened to the Staff but you have lied to me far too many times in these past two days.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed. Euan staggered backward.
“All men reap what they sow, Euan. It seems that with your withered prick, you are getting exactly what you are due. Goodbye. I will not give you a chance to lie to me again.” I said coldly then I left his chamber without another word.
Snowbound
And so, like Déjà-Vu, I found myself on the train winding its way through the West Highlands and then down into the bustling industrial city of Glasgow. However, this time, the journey did not fill me with anticipation, for I was feeling thoroughly run-through. Not only had I wasted my time and money on taking this journey in the dead of winter, but I had also sullied myself by giving in to the sins of the flesh with Euan again. I was thoroughly ashamed. I promised myself that my first stop after I returned home was to be to my Church for Holy Communion and to repent my sins.
Leaving Dunecht Hall did not go well and the thought of it preyed on my mind. Euan had protes
ted as the guests made to leave, ranting like a madman:
“I… I want every single bloody suitcase and trunk to be removed from the carriages and searched. One of you bastards has stolen the Staff of Asklepios, I know it.” He roared. “I was a good host, I was fair in business, and this is how you repay me!”
It was embarrassing watching him try to clamber atop one of the carriages and untie the strap while the snow fell. If he hadn’t lied constantly and attempted to manipulate me I would have felt sorry for the man. But Euan had bought his ill-luck on himself. The art collectors looked on in horror and consensus was that the shock of the chimney fire had sent the new Lord Ardmillan to have a breakdown. The carriages later left without me, and the guests met the midday train. I remained at the hall to ensure Mrs. McKelvie was well, and luckily, Dr. Sinclair arrived from Fort William and therefore I did not remain at the hall to see what occurred next.
Sitting with my head leaning on the icy cold train window, I watched the mountainous wintery wonderland go by. But I could not muster any cheer to enjoy the snowbound landscape or feel and goodwill of the upcoming Christmas season. The last of my goodwill had been drained from me by Euan’s deceit. I was cross with myself for falling for his ruse, and angry with Euan for believing that after all these years apart he could summon me to do his devious bidding—and that it nearly worked! Without the warning from Sebastian Cavell I would have fallen into Euan’s trap like a fly in a spider web. I felt like a fool for not questioning the invitation, and I believed that if I had not received the missive in such an urgent manner so close to Christmas I would have thought twice about attending the auction at all. But who was I kidding? Euan knew I was obsessed with owning the Staff of Asklepios and I would have traveled anywhere in the world if I could possess it. Now I had nothing to show for the excursion and found myself a few pounds lighter in the pocket with the expenses of this journey, and a heavier in my heart, loaded with the weight of submitting to my sin.
The Shooting Season Page 7
