A Death in the Highlands Page 15

  I was filled with foreboding. ‘Not the dish with the green leaves on the lid?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ said Rory. ‘She was in a terrible state of worry about you. So I decided to set out at once. How you got there before me …’

  ‘I got a lift.’

  ‘With whom?’ asked Mr Edward.

  ‘Donal Strachan, the gamekeeper.’

  Mr Edward flicked open a notebook and wrote down the name. ‘I shall have a quiet word with Mr Strachan. I think a romantic tryst between the two of you is the best excuse.’

  ‘But there’s been a murder done,’ said Rory. ‘He was saving us, but Fitzroy shot McGillvary.’

  ‘I never spotted him,’ said Mr Edward sadly. ‘But Fitzroy has been shadowing him for the last two days. He was convinced and his instincts are usually correct. Did he leave the body up there?’

  Rory gawped at him.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘That will also have to be cleared up. I believe the drive is finished. I shall arrange for the local police to investigate.’ He smiled slightly. ‘I am sure I can trust them to get this wrong. A little shooting accident, I think. The gentlemen of this house are uncommonly bad with firearms.’

  Rory sprung to his feet. ‘What kind of a policeman are you?’ he demanded.

  ‘The kind who requires you to sign these papers.’ He indicated two sheets on an occasional table. I got up and read them over. Rory raged behind me. I caught words such as ‘murderer’, ‘truth’ and ‘justice’, but mostly my thoughts were caught up with what I was reading.

  ‘Rory,’ I said in a low but carrying voice. ‘You need to see this. These are papers in which we promise, for the sake of King and country, we will never reveal what we have seen today.’

  ‘What?’ asked Rory. He came over and read them beside me.

  ‘It is true then,’ I asked softly, ‘that we are on the eve of war?’

  ‘Not the eve. Not yet,’ said Mr Edward. ‘This is an extraordinary time and at these times extraordinary actions are necessary.’

  ‘Even condoning murder?’ said Rory.

  ‘You can regard what happened to McGillvary as an execution. If all the truth had come out at his trial he would undoubtedly have been hanged.’

  ‘That’s what Fitzroy called it,’ I said. ‘But it’s not the same as being tried by a jury of your peers, 12 good men.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Mr Edward. ‘If the evidence had been presented I would have had no option but to take him to trial. Fitzroy is a different matter. He has the King’s authority to do what is necessary for the security of the kingdom.’ He looked at Rory. ‘It might make it easier for you if you thought of him as a soldier.’

  ‘He shot him in the back,’ said Rory with obvious distaste.

  ‘I imagine he believed it to be necessary to secure the outcome he desired.’

  ‘He’s right, Rory. If he had called to McGillvary, the man would have shot him, then you, and I don’t like to think what would have been my fate.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Rory. ‘I didn’t mean that, Euphemia. But this all seems so wrong.’

  ‘You have an alarming streak of chivalry for a butler,’ said Mr Edward. ‘I’d accuse you of aping your betters, but I have met your house guests.’

  The last piece suddenly clicked into place. Mentally, I heard Tipton telling me about Rolly. ‘Rolly – Roland McGillvary,’ I said. ‘He suggested to Tipton that I was of easy virtue – that’s how he drew you off. He knew you were too chivalrous to leave me to Tipton’s advances. You owe him nothing.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ said Rory. ‘But I still don’t like this.’

  ‘It really is for the best,’ said Mr Edward, handing Rory a pen.

  ‘Aye, I guess the man tried to have me hanged and then tried to kill me.’ He signed.

  ‘Euphemia?’

  ‘I will sign. But as much because of what might happen if I did not,’ I said.

  ‘Euphemia,’ said Rory. ‘You can’t think these gentlemen would do anything to harm us?’

  ‘I think,’ I said carefully, ‘that Mr Fitzroy, at least, will do what he considers necessary.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Mr Edward. ‘Now, might I suggest you change before the rest of the household sees the state you are in? I will explain during your romantic wanderings you came upon the body of McGillvary and came straight to me.’

  ‘I am not comfortable with this. We are damaging Euphemia’s reputation.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ said Mr Edward. ‘I am sure Euphemia’s unusual reputation can bear this.’

  He ushered us out of the door. I found I could not look Rory in the face. Within the hour, the whole household would believe we had been dallying together. What I was asked to do for King and country!

  I hurried to my chamber. Someone had sent up hot water and I had an impromptu standing bath in front of the bedchamber fire, which had also mysteriously been lit. It took me some while to rid my person – especially my hair – of the thick, black and foul-smelling Scottish mud. When I finally made my way downstairs, it was to hear Lord Richard bellowing in the hall. I stopped on the landing, not wishing to add to the trauma of the day by encountering him in full wrath. He was yelling at Rory.

  ‘Damn fools! Can no one but me handle a bloody gun? That’s it. It’s over. One accident I can live with! But two! I’ll have to sell the bloody place. Pack it up, man, we’re going home! The party is over.’

  ‘Do you believe there were two accidents?’ I jumped at Mr Bertram’s voice in my ear.

  ‘What … what else could it be?’ I stammered.

  ‘Am I to wish Mr McLeod and you happy?’ asked Mr Bertram.

  ‘What? No!’ I cried. ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Only, I hear you were keeping company together.’ He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘That you were courting when you came across the grisly scene. You don’t strike me as a girl who would trifle with a man’s heart, Euphemia. Nor as one who would go out walking, as they say, with any man.’

  It was my turn to blush with embarrassment. I could not meet his gaze. ‘The situation has been misunderstood, sir.’

  ‘I hope it has,’ he said.

  ‘Do you, sir?’ I said hopefully.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mr Bertram gravely. ‘While we would do all in our power to assist McLeod if you and he were to marry, we cannot have the house and staff duties disrupted due to relationships between servants.’

  I felt my mouth fall open. No words came out.

  ‘Mrs Wilson wouldn’t like it,’ said Mr Bertram.

  I pulled myself together. ‘No, of course not, sir. I wouldn’t want to distress Mrs Wilson.’

  ‘I think it’s best,’ continued Mr Bertram frowning, ‘if this story is not referred to again.’

  ‘As you wish, sir.’

  ‘I’m not a fool, Euphemia. I know there’s more going on here than you are willing to tell me. Mr Edward spent overly long interviewing you. As you have not seen fit to let me into your confidence, I suggest that we never refer again to anything that happened over these last few days.’

  ‘What happened in Scotland shall stay in Scotland,’ I said tersely.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Mr Bertram. ‘Will you speak to McLeod or shall I?’

  ‘Oh, I think such instruction should come from the family, sir, and not a mere fellow servant.’

  ‘There is no need for us to fall out over this,’ said Mr Bertram.

  ‘Fall out, sir? I don’t understand. I’m your brother’s servant and I hope I give good service to all the family.’

  ‘Damn it! You know what I mean. We have an unusual, er, relationship.’

  ‘I hesitate to be so rude as to contradict you, sir, but as I now understand it, sir, no servants of this household are allowed relationships.’

  ‘That isn’t what I meant and you know it! There has always been something more than servant and master between us. If it wasn’t so damn ridiculous, I would say we were friends
.’

  ‘As you say, sir, that is ridiculous. If you will excuse me I have duties to attend to.’

  ‘Euphemia!’

  I pretended not to hear and walked away. Mr Bertram did not follow. I was therefore in a state of considerable agitation when I came across Mr Edward in the passages leading to the kitchen.

  ‘I was explaining to Susan that her pension will now be honoured,’ he said.

  ‘Mr Bertram?’ I asked hopefully.

  ‘No, Lord Richard has reconsidered his position concerning the management of the estate.’

  ‘You’re watching him, aren’t you?’

  ‘I couldn’t say,’ said Mr Edward.

  ‘Is this because of what happened before? To his father?’ I asked.

  ‘Miss St John, can I advise you not to meddle in matters that don’t concern you? You have already more cause than most to understand that sometimes the security of the nation must be put before a single act.’

  ‘You know what he is, don’t you?’

  ‘I refer you to my previous answer.’

  ‘You need him for something … The war.’

  ‘If you pray, Miss St John, pray that whatever we need him for never happens. We will do what is necessary.’

  ‘But you would rather it wasn’t necessary,’ I said.

  Mr Edward smiled. ‘You begin to understand. Now, I must be on my way. Fitzroy will want a full report.’

  ‘You work for him?’ I asked surprised.

  ‘Let’s just say that Mr Fitzroy is almost a law unto himself. Almost.’

  ‘While you are being so candid, sir, could you possibly tell me why these deaths occurred.’

  Mr Edward sighed. ‘If I am being candid, it is in the hope our paths never cross again, for both our sakes. But as for explaining everything that happened, my dear girl, it would take hours. May I suggest you watch the newspaper headlines for news of the Far East in the coming days?’

  I knew I had pushed him as far as he would allow me, so I put out my hand. ‘Let us part friends, sir. After all we are both loyal servants of the Crown,’ I said.

  Mr Edward put his large hand around mine. ‘You know, Euphemia, this could all have been solved much more quickly and neatly if you had talked to the person who had the other half of the puzzle you held.’

  ‘I did talk to Mr Fitzroy! He told me he always worked alone.’

  ‘I was referring to Mr Bertram,’ said Mr Edward. He shook my hand firmly and walked away without another word.

  I walked into the kitchen, my head whirling with thoughts. Merry ran up to me. ‘Is it true we’re to leave early?’

  ‘I believe so,’ I said.

  ‘Thank goodness!’ said Merry.

  EPILOGUE

  Although Merry would have been happy to leave within the hour, despite the attentions of her local swain, who so loved showing her views, it was a full day before we were on our way and many weary travelling hours later before we were back within the portals of Stapleford Hall. As the carriage trundled up the familiar drive, I experienced the curious sensation of relief. Stapleford Hall was hardly a welcoming place, but it had become, in the strangest way, my home. I might loathe and disrespect many of the Staplefords, but the people who lived and worked below stairs had become my new family and I was comfortable with them. Merry, Bobby, Willie and, of course, Rory, I counted as true friends. But like any homecoming, it was to be a mixed blessing.

  I returned to find my services as housekeeper were no longer required. The determined Mrs Wilson had cajoled Miss Richenda into obtaining her a wheeled bath chair, so she could readily direct the operation of the house. Bobby quickly grew into the habit of forgetting to grease her wheels, so when we heard her squeaky approach, if necessary, we could remove ourselves to the upper part of the house. However, Rory, who remained as butler, ensured we did not often avail ourselves of this respite.

  He and I remained on reasonable terms although he was now Mr McLeod to me. We didn’t speak of the events up north, or of whatever Mr Bertram had said to him, but there was a distance between us at his instigation. I remained unreservedly grateful to him for saving my life and did all in my power to ensure our previous relationship did not endanger his position. In turn Rory, unasked, spoke to Lord Richard and I found myself promoted again from maid to under-housekeeper. Merry told me she had overheard Rory point out that a housekeeper, who could only oversee the ground floor of a three-storey house needed assistance. At this point, she had to run away as she heard the squeak of wheels behind her, so I do not know what other arguments Rory employed, but I was grateful to him once more.

  It was around this time that Mr Bertram disappeared from the household. No one mentioned his going. We were simply told one morning to put his room into dust sheets, so it seemed unlikely he would return shortly.

  Life continued a busy schedule of dusting, cleaning and sundry domestic duties. At first, it was a relief after Scotland and I think all the staff felt comfort in the return to normality. But the human heart is a fickle thing and it was not too long before I found myself sighing over the duty of darning linen. Lord Richard had shouted at me twice that day for no good reason and, as I sat in the linen room, sewing in the dim light with my incautiously large stitches, I could not help but wonder if this was to be the extent of my recklessness to the end of my days. I am ashamed to say I felt quite dismayed at the prospect.

  I chided myself that I had no cause to be so downhearted. Thanks to Rory’s intervention I now earned enough to ensure that Mother and Little Joe could manage quite adequately. Mother’s piano lessons were becoming, she told me, most in demand. Little Joe must soon go to school and I was attempting to put aside savings for this, as I believe was Mother. Between us we would manage. I had a good position. After everything that occurred, Lord Richard treated me with, if not civility, more respect that he showed any other woman of the household. Even Miss Richenda seemed to have been brought to heel and gave me no more cause for annoyance. Mr Bertram had gone, but it was probably for the best. I was a little lonely, but Merry and I were better friends than ever before and her cheery nature often helped lift my spirits. However, I also knew it often helped lift the spirits of a local lad who wasn’t, Merry assured me, one for views. I knew that one day in the not too far future, she would marry, if not this young man, then another and leave service to start her own family. I was, of course, pleased for her at this prospect, but I saw myself growing old with only Mrs Wilson for company and that was a most lowering thought. Sometimes, I fancied Rory’s eyes lingered on me for longer than was necessary and with more warmth than he might be expected to show to a fellow servant, but he never by word indicated that he would so much as value a conversation alone with me and I could hardly approach him. His presence to me was a comfort and I could only hope he would come to realise this.

  A tear dripped from my cheek onto the sheet I was darning. I wiped it away and gave a big sigh. Really, I had much to be grateful for. I could not wish for better.

  It was at this point that the linen door burst open and admitted Mr Bertram to turn my life upside down once more.

  He was brandishing a newspaper. ‘Have you seen this, Euphemia! The new treaty? Japan has annexed Korea once more. That’s what it was all about!’

  ‘Sir,’ I said jumping to my feet and dropping my mending all over the floor. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again.’

  Mr Bertram began to pick up the sheets from the floor. He spoke quickly and breathlessly. ‘I owe you an apology, Euphemia. My God, if you’d listened to me Rory McLeod would have been hanged. Your instincts, as ever, were right. I should have listened to you. I apologise.’

  ‘Really, sir, there is no need,’ I said. Although I felt the apology was well-deserved.

  ‘Of course I was right about it being an international affair rather than a local one,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Indeed you were, sir,’ I said, smiling.

  Bertram’s face broke into a grin. ‘That’s very gracious of
you.’ He placed the sheets carefully to one side. ‘I wasn’t at my best in the Highlands. I know that.’ He swallowed. ‘What you said to me … what you said to me about staying here for the sake of this house built from blood and death …’ He took a deep breath and I knew he was struggling with some deep emotions.

  ‘I do understand, sir. Your position has been a difficult one …’

  Bertram grasped my hand and spoke earnestly. ‘No. No. You were right. I don’t want it. I don’t need to stay here. I’d fallen into … I don’t know what I’d fallen into. Perhaps the hope I’d catch Richard out? I’d like to say that was it, but I think the idea of change was too different. Too difficult.’ He took my other hand too. We stood there, he holding both my hands. His eyes shone with excitement. ‘But I’ve done it, Euphemia. I’ve done it.’ His eyes were alight. ‘And I want you to come with me!’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Bertram,’ I said. ‘Can you mean? Do you mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mr Bertram. ‘I’ve bought my own home and I want you to live there.’

  ‘Bertram!’

  ‘Euphemia!’ Mr Bertram gripped my hands more firmly in his. I looked shyly up at him

  ‘Yes, Bertram?’

  His face broke into a broad grin as he said, ‘I want you to be my housekeeper!’

  Yet again, it was not the declaration I had hoped for. I struggled to compose myself. Mr Bertram watched me, hopefully. This could open up a new horizon of possibilities. Anything was better than darning laundry and, away from Stapleford Hall, who knew what adventures might await me? An unwanted thought rose in my mind: if I left Stapleford Hall, would I ever see Rory McLeod again?

  ‘Well, Euphemia? Will you do it?’

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