Unseen: Chronicles of the Royal Society for Investigation of the Paranormal

by Kate Gray

to it as his Hadrian’s wall, for though it was quite clearly there, it was not substantial enough to drive either of them away.

  He had loved his wife openly and honestly as well. It had driven a knife into his heart to send her away to die, as he knew she would. In following physician’s orders they had both paid the ultimate price for it.

  So it was that when she had died, and the Lord General had returned to England to see to her burial, that Isabel had been able to witness the first true signs of age upon her father.

  He had carried grief with him after that, a burning coal of guilt and pain that she could not touch. And then, he had drawn his children to him, and utterly broken down his barriers.

  Isabel had seen at once how dearly he needed to be sustained for the time being. His once black hair was slowly creeping into silver. Those once dancing blue eyes often faded as he sat in contemplation.

  Lately, during their library sojourns he had begun to express his secret doubts to her during the long winter nights, when neither of them could sleep. He wondered aloud whether he ought to have given up his rank and returned home with her mother.

  She would listen silently, more often than not. They sat in the library almost every evening. The daughter tending to father’s mind, both of them engaging in long conversations on philosophy, faith, and power.

  This night, she went to his chair and kissed his cheek. She knelt beside him, and Hugh, father, general, nobleman, looked in wonder upon her, as he usually did. She was very nearly a copy of him, as he was of his own mother. It was a comfort that she very little resembled her mother.

  It made the days easier not to see such a ghostly reminder of his loss. It was Isabel’s loss as well, but a mother was someone of a different value to that of a spouse. Isabel would one day understand that, if she ever allowed her heart free reign.

  Lord Abington could sense in his daughter that something out of the ordinary had taken place that evening, but he was determined not to push her into a confession, as it were.

  That was not the sort of relationship he had with her. She was her own person, despite the outside pressures of society, and the constant chastisement that she bore from peer and superior alike.

  He had long since come to an understanding with his son that the lad would have to take a smaller share in the family estate and make his own fortunes with that. Having been well-raised,

  Alex had understood fully the reasons why. Isabel would need her independence, and the means to maintain it. Women had very little in the way of opportunity to raise themselves up, and both of them refused to force her into marriage, or give her cause to beg for support.

  It always gave him pause to consider that she was in part his creation; it gave him even greater pause to consider her age, and the temptations that attended her recent adulthood.

  He trusted her fully, insofar as he trusted himself. It was his men that he often contemplated. He had encouraged her to cultivate a sisterly relationship with the enlisted men, never to show preference for any of them, always to attend to them the way they would expect a family member to.

  It was another kind of wall, and a very pretty one at that. She was entirely skilled at achieving such a status among the men. They all looked after her as though she was a precious jewel, never fighting for her attentions.

  The mean knew that she would make her way eventually to every one of them. As for his officers’ ranks, she had been the one to determine her relationship with them.

  Avoidance had been the key operating procedure, as she had admitted to her father that she often found them silly and self-important. And he had typically agreed, because they were in all places just so, especially with no warfare to keep them tethered to thoughtfulness.

  Excepting one of his current staff, to be precise. He’d not yet successfully manoeuvered a way to introduce Gordon Macconnach to Isabel, but he felt that he should.

  He’d found in Macconnach a kindred spirit and untamed nature that he was sure his daughter would appreciate. The major was reticent about mingling with his general, and Abington was sure he understood why.

  Scots officers were not always treated well, not always given the chance for great advancement; Macconnach had to know that his position was at least partly due to his…special set of skills.

  Abington chuckled over Macconnach’s interpretation thus far of the regulations in place at this outpost. He kept himself to himself with an Herculean devotion to order, and not the slightest hint that the man had any vices or normal urges.

  He never caroused with the other officers. Not that he was typically invited to partake as they did, but it seemed to Abington that Macconnach took isolation as a comfort. The man immersed himself in duty to relieve whatever homeward pangs he might have.

  That was why Abington knew that Macconnach had left the encampment on that night. Macconnach himself had informed a sentry of his conclusion of duty, and that he would be leaving the area for a short time.

  He had wondered at the time about it, but once Isabel had returned, she unintentionally confirmed for him what had happened. Macconnach must have spotted her, and taken up pursuit, likely believing her to be a native girl consorting with one of the men.

  Abington chuckled again a bit more loudly, and covered his mouth. Isabel peered at him suspiciously, wondering what in Plato’s oratories could cause any amusement.

  Seeing the expression of enjoyment on his face, however, she quickly abandoned her curiosity. It was too good to see him happy. She dared not send it back into hiding, so she merely stood and bade him goodnight.

  He kissed her hand lightly and waited until she had left the room. He then stood and went in search of his valet, who would see to it that a message was sent to Macconnach’s quarters.

  The next morning, after the breakfast dishes were cleared away and Isabel safely off doing the same work her mother had done, Macconnach made his appearance as requested.

  Abington sat at his breakfast table, the morning’s dispatches spread out before him. Macconnach looked pale, resolute, and unreadable.

  "Major, do please take a seat. I haven’t called you here on business."

  Macconnach relaxed a fraction and did as he was told.

  “I am wondering how you’re getting on here after your first month. Loathing the heat, I trust." Abington kept his focus on the letters and reports.

  "It isn’t so very much like home as the Black Sea was, I admit, sir." Macconnach had spent fifteen months there, before being called to Egypt and its pyramids for nearly two years.

  "Moreso than in the desert, I hope. You likely wonder why I brought you here to these wilds after meeting you only once." Macconnach shifted in his seat.

  "The thought had crossed my mind more than once, your lordship. However, I believe you must have had good cause to ask for someone such as myself."

  "I am not given to charity, especially not to men who are second sons of lairds." Abington watched Macconnach’s face intently as he chose his next few words. "It was because I saw in you, myself, ten years past, and I knew that you would never be given a chance to excel with General Rossdale deciding your fate. In addition to your, er, extra duties, I have received approval to promote you to the billet of executive officer for this battalion. I do think that, while your talents may take you a certain distance, you may need some normal experience if you’re ever to see a rank such as my own. Colonel Grandy was pleased to hear the news, I might add."

  Stunned silence fell over the small room, as Macconnach straightened up further in his chair.

  "I am honored sir. I hope that I’ll not give you cause to doubt your decision in any way." He thought for a moment. “But you also selected me for reasons which do not fit neatly into the billet descriptions of the King’s Army, sir.”

  “That came to my attention when my wife’s brother gave me your name. Thus far, I have had nothing but confidence in my continued ability to select excellent senior officers.” He smiled at himself.
“We shall be working in concert with one another, and you shall be moving quarters as soon as Lieutenant Colonel Gormley moves on. You shall be in the house."

  Here, Macconnach colored slightly, but said nothing. Canny thing, Abington thought. Probably thinks I’ll behead him if I find out he was with my daughter.

  "I suppose then, that I must begin to speak with Gormley to enable a smooth transition."

  "Just the thing, major. I leave you now to your day’s duties, and," he added, almost as an afterthought, “I should like a demonstration of your unusual talents very soon.” Macconnach rose and bowed formally.

  "Understood, your lordship." He was at the door and very nearly out when Abington made his move.

  "Oh, Macconnach, I never did hear. Who or what did you chase down last night?"

  His back to the general, only a violent start was visible as the man struggled to regain control of himself. Abington smiled at the complete confirmation of his suspicions.

  "It was only a native girl, my lord. I was too slow to catch her up, and she must have disappeared into her village."

  "Very good, Macconnach. Carry on."

  "Sir." Another stiff bow and Macconnach was gone.

  Abington reached for the bell to summon his butler, Ranajit. He then gave orders for a small dinner party in a week or two, with the only guest being Major Gordon Macconnach.

  Abington was not a devious man, but he found himself rather enjoying the thought of