He was interrupted by Miss Halliday, calling from upstairs: 'Hell - o - Mrs Cairncross, are you there?'
Mrs Cairncross picked up the tray. 'She's out of bed. I knew it. Once my back is turned. Coming, my dear.'
‘I’ll be back when she's had her breakfast,' said Yarrow.
Dr Brand nodded. 'You come with me, Sergeant.'
When Yarrow protested with a helpless look at Faro, the doctor seized his arm firmly. 'I've got some of my splendid pills waiting for you.'
Faro lingered, waiting for Mrs Cairncross to return. 'Do you think I might have a few words with Miss Halliday? I'm to leave Elrigg shortly. This might be my last chance.'
Mrs Cairncross looked doubtful. 'If you think it will be all right, sir. You won't tire her, will you?'
* * *
Miss Halliday was sitting up in bed, her face badly bruised, but otherwise she was remarkably cheerful. When Faro exclaimed sympathetically, she smiled painfully. 'I'm perfectly all right, no bones broken. A silly accident, but I'll be back with my children on Monday. It's good of you to come and say goodbye -'
'There is something else, Miss Halliday. I realise this is an inappropriate time - Sir Walter's letter. I was absolutely fascinated -'
'And you would like a copy. I don't have it, I'm afraid.'
She laughed at his solemn expression. 'Ask Miss Crowe. She looked in after you yesterday and I lent it to her for that very reason.'
And Faro had the grace to feel ashamed.
* * *
Miss Molly Gilchrist's visit to Elrigg Castle was to be memorable for its surprises, none of which could have been anticipated by the guests.
The sunny warm weather held and the gardens, with their budding trees laden with birdsong, made a pretty and nostalgic background for the old lady, whose face was a map of her life, of its joys and sorrows. Her eyes, still bright, constantly searched for her beloved pupil, Mark.
'Where is he?' she whispered, as she perambulated the gardens on Faro's arm. 'Dear, dear, I did expect he would be here to greet his guests,' she added anxiously. 'And he did promise me a nice surprise. We share the same birthday, you know. He is twenty-five today,' she added proudly.
'A double celebration,' said Owen. 'No doubt that is what is keeping him.'
And Faro remembered that this day was the day Mark came of age, when all of Elrigg would be his.
'These gardens must be full of memories for you,' said Olivia. 'Is it exciting to come back?'
'It is indeed.' And Miss Gilchrist proceeded to regale them with stories of Mark's childhood. As is so often the case of rich children whose parents had little time for them, motherless Mark had been treated by her more as son than pupil. He had returned her devotion and had kept in touch with her over the years, by letter and by frequent visits.
Suddenly two figures emerged from the topiary surrounding the rose garden. Lady Elrigg walked swiftly towards them, apologising for Mark's absence. This was greeted by an audible sigh of relief from Miss Gilchrist and, as introductions were made, Faro observed that Lady Elrigg's companion Miss Kent stepped back, as if eager for the shadows of the great cypress hedge. She curtsied to the group and then, in an almost imperceptible gesture, touched her mistress's arm.
Still smiling, Lady Elrigg turned to her immediately and together they moved a little distance away. Apparently the talk was brief but urgent, for with a quick glance towards the assembled guests, Miss Kent hurried of in the direction of the Castle.
'Some urgent domestic niceties I seem to have overlooked for this evening,' they were informed. 'Fortunately Miss Kent remembered.'
But Faro wasn't all sure she was speaking the truth. Her colour had heightened slightly and he felt certain her sharp, uncertain glance had concerned the guests and something more important than was warranted by a housekeeping consultation.
'I trust your rooms are quite comfortable?' At the murmurs of 'Very' and 'Delightful', Lady Elrigg smiled. 'And now, if you will excuse me. We will meet again in the drawing-room at five o'clock.'
'Will Mark be there?' Miss Gilchrist asked in a bewildered voice.
Lady Elrigg took her hands. 'Of course, my dear, of course, he will. Now do enjoy the last of the sunshine while you can.'
* * *
When they returned to the house, Mark rushed out to greet them. Exchanging hugs and kisses with a relieved and tearful Miss Gilchrist, he said: 'I so wanted you to be here, I have a very special surprise for you.'
It was a surprise for everyone. In the drawing-room Poppy Elrigg now wore a gown of violet lace and the Elrigg diamonds. Even in humbler attire she would have overshadowed every other female present.
Hector Elrigg arrived with Dr Brand and both greeted the Elriggs with a geniality that raised Faro's eyebrows a little considering how vehemently they had both railed against Sir Archie. Presumably their angry feelings did not extend to his pretty widow and his stepson.
Faro made a mental note that Hector in particular had taken great pains with his appearance. His suit, although a little out of fashion, was considerably smarter than the rough countryman's attire he normally appeared in. Dr Brand too was wearing what Faro suspected was his Sunday best.
The latecomer was Imogen Crowe.
This was indeed a surprise and not a particularly pleasant one for Faro. He suspected he would be seated next to her at dinner. But much was to happen before that.
'Right,' said Mark. 'Now that everyone is here, will you please follow me.' He gave his ex-governess his arm and the group made their way back down the staircase out and across the courtyard to the private chapel which had served the Elriggs of several past generations.
With his hand on the open door, Mark put his arm about Miss Gilchrist. This dear lady, as you all know, has been my mother in every way but the accident of birth. She is the dearest in all the world to me - except for one person,' he smiled, 'and it is appropriate that she should stand by me on my wedding day.'
'Your wedding day!'
There was a very audible gasp from the group at this unexpected announcement. He said: 'Yes, dear friends, I am to be married.' And throwing open the door, he said, There is my bride.'
Standing before Reverend Cairncross at the altar were his wife and, now radiant in her bridal gown, their once-weeping daughter Harriet, whom Faro had met briefly in the churchyard.
Turning to Molly Gilchrist, Mark said: 'I shall want your blessing.'
That you have always had, my dearest boy. I am so happy for you.'
And so they were wed. Poppy Elrigg was obviously delighted and had relished helping Mark plan the event with such great secrecy. As for Faro, he was glad to have been in grave error regarding the affection of two young people drawn together in a trying household.
Reverend Cairncross and his wife were doubtless gratified by this conclusion to their own problem for, without wishing to be indelicate, or stare too heavily, it was obvious that Harriet was pregnant.
The wedding party returned jubilantly indoors to dine in the elegant room with its eighteenth-century damask wall-hangings, faded but still intact. The faces of ghostly bygone Elriggs stared down from the walls at the diners in a setting that was everything an old family servant like Miss Gilchrist could have wished for.
It was also an occasion to provide Faro with some interesting observations and conclusions.
'Miss Kent has asked to be excused,' said Poppy Elrigg. 'She suffers from wretched headaches and this one refuses to disappear.’
Vince offered pills, Aunt Molly offered reliable home remedies seconded very firmly by Imogen, while Olivia and her brother offered sympathy.
'I was hoping to see her again,' murmured Olivia to Vince and when he said 'Really', she put a hand to her lips, glancing at Faro, who had overheard.
'Shh - tell you later.'
As Faro had suspected, Imogen Crowe was seated next to him at the table with Hector on her other side. However, with much good food and wine, particularly the latter, he found himself oddly for
giving and forgetful of her disagreeable qualities. They talked about books and Faro found her also knowledgeable about his own particular favourites, Shakespeare and Mr Dickens.
Quite remarkably so, he thought, and found himself looking at her and remembering what Yarrow had told him about her past. Miss Crowe having survived a gaol sentence and writing books about it would never have been tolerated at most Edinburgh dinner tables. In the society he knew there, she would be shunned, a social outcast.
There was one more event to be celebrated as Reverend Cairncross invited them to raise their glasses in birthday greetings to 'Mark who now inherits the estates of Elrigg and to Sir Hector who now inherits the title,'
In return Mark held up his glass to Hector. 'And you, my dear cousin, have my blessing to excavate the hillfort, the standing stones and any piece of Elrigg that takes your fancy.'
Hector was delighted, and another toast was drunk to his success.
Faro was naturally suspicious of happy endings, but tonight he listened, mellowed by good wine and content with the conversations circling about him.
Across the table, Dr Brand deplored the gypsies' annual presence while Imogen Crowe defended them.
'They're not to be trusted, miss, there's always the danger that they leave our pasture gates open - they are not too fussy about bars and latches, I can tell you.'
They aren't used to gates, Doctor. It is not part of their way of life...'
Faro only half listened to the argument.
'Don't you agree with me, Mr Faro?'
Not quite sure what he was expected to agree with, Miss Crowe speedily enlightened him.
They make their annual pilgrimage to the crowning of their king at Kirk Yetholm every year.'
'Another king,' said Faro. 'Does this entail a mortal combat like your wild cattle?'
Imogen Crowe eyed him coldly. 'Not at all - the gypsy king -'
But her explanation was cut short as Hector interrupted: 'Mr Faro is fascinated by the cattle, Mark.'
'Are you indeed?' asked Poppy since Mark and his bride had their heads close together, lost in some magic world of the newlyweds. 'Do show him, Hector. The wooden box on the desk.'
Hector brought out the yellowed parchment and laid it before Faro. 'Perhaps you'd like me to read it to you: this is their earliest recorded mention - when the Scots troops occupied us in January - see, 1645:
* * *
'What with the Soldiers and this continuing Storme, if it lye but one Month more, there will bee neither Beast nor Sheepe left in the country. Your Honour's Deere and wild Cattle I fear will all dye, do what we can: The like of this Storme hath not been known by any living in the Country. The Lord look upon us in mercy, if it be his blessed Will.'
* * *
'Fascinating,' said Faro.
There is another account,' said Hector, warming to his subject. 'Our neighbour, the Earl of Tankerville, celebrated his son's birthday in 1756 by ordering a great number of the cattle to be slaughtered, which, with a proportionate quantity of bread, were distributed among upwards of six hundred poor people.
'It's certainly a wonder the animals did survive.'
‘They had no predators, Hector,' said the minister.
'Only man,' put in Dr Brand. 'The worst predator of all.'
But Faro shivered, as the ghost of his recurring nightmare glared down at him from the wall opposite. The head and horns of an enraged bull.
Chapter 24
When Faro and Vince left the Castle some hours later, dawn was breaking and the ladies had long since retired. Only Imogen Crowe remained, in earnest and, Faro admitted disgustedly, argumentative conversation.
Although she represented the new breed of womankind of whom he was a little contemptuous and a little in awe, gallantry remained. However, his offer to see her safely down the drive was scornfully rejected.
'Good heavens, no. I wouldn't dream of it.'
Alarmed in case she had misinterpreted his offer, he said hastily, 'Vince and I will be leaving in the carriage shortly.'
'Carriage, indeed. It's no distance at all and the walk will do me good. I need the exercise and you gentlemen need your port. Yes, you too, Hector,' she said firmly.
Hector looked so put out that Faro, regarding him sharply, wondered if he was in love with Miss Crowe. A situation he found personally unimaginable, although on closer acquaintance she was pretty enough and intelligent too. But he cared little for opinionated young females with their militant views regarding women's position in society.
'If they ever get the vote, heaven help us,' he said to Hector, who still looked annoyed at Imogen's rejection of his company as he shared their carriage, silently wrapped in his own thoughts.
* * *
As they prepared to retire for what remained of the night, Vince yawned: 'What a day, Stepfather. And what a curious wedding. At least Mark is one suspect you can cross off your list.'
Faro didn't care to disillusion Vince by suggesting that the possible intrigue of the pretty widow and her stepson had been neatly explained, simply to give rise to another more sinister reason for Sir Archie's demise: the obstacle to Mark's marriage had been conveniently removed.
Faro would have given much to know the exact location of Mark Elrigg, expert archer, when his stepfather died. Murders had been committed for much less than Mark's and Harriet's urgency.
Perturbed by his stepfather's silence, Vince asked: 'What do you make of Miss Crowe?'
'Not a great deal,' said Faro shortly.
'She's quite a stunner,' was the encouraging reply.
'Indeed. I hadn't noticed,' said Faro, removing his cravat. 'And what about Olivia?'
'Livvy. What about her?'
'Aren't you being, well, a little unfaithful?'
'Who said I had to be faithful to Olivia?' Vince demanded sharply.
'I presumed -'
'You presumed wrongly, Stepfather. I have no intentions but those of the friendliest towards Olivia.' He looked out of the window at the sun rising behind the standing stones. 'At present.'
Faro was thankful for those two words when Vince went on: 'Besides it wasn't for myself I was putting forward Miss Crowe as a marriageable proposition. She is a little old for me, past thirty, I should think. I had her in mind for you.'
You - thought -' Faro was at a loss for words.
'Indeed I did. You were getting along famously and I noticed, and I'm sure everyone else did, what a handsome pair you made.'
'Then you and everyone else are quite wrong.'
'Come, Stepfather, you really should have a wife,' Vince sounded suddenly sober. 'You aren't all that old - in your prime, most men would say, and Rose and Emily won't always have Grandma, they would take a young stepmother to their heart.'
'Indeed? As you took a stepfather to your heart at their age,' said Faro in bitter tones that reminded Vince of how deeply he had resented his mother marrying a policeman.
'It was only until I got to know you,' Vince said meekly.
'And may I remind you that I worked very hard at that. You were an obnoxious child.' Faro grinned suddenly. 'Amazing that you turned out so well under my guidance.'
Vince shared the laughter and then Faro said sadly: 'I'll never find another woman like your mother again. If I could, I swear I'd marry her. What I don't want is a clever opinionated wife, I want someone nice, kind, loving and homely - like my Lizzie.'
Vince smiled. 'There is someone who fits that description exactly, you know, Stepfather. And she is right under your nose every day.'
Faro frowned. 'Who could that be?'
'Our housekeeper - Mrs Brook, of course.'
Faro opened his mouth, closed it again. In a voice heavy with indignation, he said, 'I have never even considered such a thing. The whole idea is quite intolerable, Vince. I trust you are joking,' he added coldly.
'Come now, Stepfather, give it a little thought. She has all the qualifications my mother had. Homely, kind, a good cook - a damned good cook, come to t
hat. And she is the right age for you,' he added triumphantly.
'The right age, is she?' Faro demanded. 'Nearer fifty-five than forty. Really, Vince. I'm appalled. Quite appalled. I do need a little intellectual stimulus beyond the kitchen stove and the household accounts, you know.'
'You didn't get it from mamma, did you? But it didn't stop you loving her and producing two daughters.'
Faro was speechless as Vince went on: 'Don't you see what I'm getting at? You've come a long way since you met my Ma. Granted she was right for you then but, alas, she wouldn't be right for you now. You've gone up in the world, she would never have kept up with you. You'd have left her in the kitchen long ago,' he said sadly. 'You need a wife who could enjoy the world at your pace, share your love of books and music, your vast and ever-growing knowledge.'
'The kind of relationship you have with Olivia,' said Faro, determined to have the last word on marriages.
'Perhaps. Time will tell.' Vince's expression gave nothing away, but because he was equally determined, 'Like Mark and Harriet, we hope. They seem well suited. Miss Gilchrist says they have loved each other since childhood, but the vicar's daughter was not a suitable match for Sir Archie's heir. He wanted an alliance with this rich plain girl, coal owner's only daughter. But Mark and Harriet wanted each other. As you saw, true love won the day.'
Faro, listening silently, hoped it hadn't been helped by murder.
Mysteries were by no means ended and next morning yet another was thrown into the equation. Invited to accompany Owen and Olivia back to Branxton, Miss Gilchrist was extremely keen that they should see the old battlefield of Flodden and the pretty villages of Ford and Etal.
As they met in the Castle grounds, Olivia said, 'I don't know how I will ever manage to eat luncheon. Such a breakfast. I was hoping to see Miss Kent again when we said goodbye to Lady Elrigg. I'm very curious about her.'
Asked to explain, she continued, 'I am almost certain she is the same Beatrice Kent who was at boarding school in Edinburgh at the same time I was. Of course I didn't know her very well, she was a few years ahead of me. And it was all hushed up.'
[Inspector Faro 14] - Faro and the Royals Page 15