A Dangerous Past

by Clare Jayne

  They reached their destination and a footman handed them the drinks they asked for, Ishbel taking a ratafia while Miss Chiverton claimed a glass of lemonade. They turned back towards the other guests but did not hurry to end their private conversation. Ewan and Lord and Lady Picton were still conversing with new arrivals so Ishbel could not yet approach them.

  “Have you had any more marriage proposals?” she asked.

  “Two,” Miss Chiverton said, “and Mama had a stern word with me about making up my mind who to marry. Is there something wrong with me that I do not feel ready to be a wife?”

  “Not in the least and a marriage to the wrong person must be intolerable.” She thought of her own parents’ unhappiness and compared it with the strength of her love for Ewan. She would hate to see a friend trapped in a bad marriage.

  “There is no man I even strongly like, let alone love.”

  “Then you must find a way to convince your parents to allow you to wait. Many young women take a couple of seasons in society before they wed and you have only been out a matter of months. Perhaps your brother could speak to them on your behalf?”

  “That would not help in the slightest. Now that Eddie is independent and spending almost all his time with Alex... You do know..?” Miss Chiverton broke off and bit her lip.

  Ishbel knew at once what she was being asked. She remembered her initial astonishment at learning that Mr Chiverton was romantically involved with another man, but her shock had quickly faded and she thought now that perhaps his unconventional choices were not so different to hers. They both wished to live in such a way that made them happy. “I know,” she told Miss Chiverton. “I have a high opinion of your brother and, while I have only met Alex a few times, I have always found him a pleasant man.”

  “He is like another brother to me, one as amenable as Eddie. I think Mama could perhaps accept him, although she has never directly said so, but Papa rules our family and he and Henry could scarcely be more opposed to the relationship. They do not try to understand Eddie’s feelings and now they are insisting that I only spend time with him at public events.”

  “That must be difficult for you both.” It made Ishbel realise how much freedom she had in her own life. Harriette had not always been so accepting but Ishbel had refused to give up the things that made her happy, namely the academic work and criminal enquiries, and Harriette had slowly come to terms with it.

  “I do not intend to waste this afternoon feeling despondent, so pray tell me all that has happened with the murder you and Mr MacPherson are looking into.”

  Ishbel told her what they had learnt of Morag’s father and how Jed Cassell was helping them find out more about Morag’s involvement in crime.

  Miss Chiverton listened to this intently before saying, “So the dead woman could either having been meeting others involved in crimes on the day she died, which led to her death, or she might have had an innocent errand and died for another reason?”

  “Exactly. It seems likely that her illegal work had something to do with her murder but there may have been some other cause we have not even discovered yet.”

  “How interesting to put all the threads together, like a piece of embroidery, and gradually see a picture appearing which solves everything.”

  Ishbel looked round the room and saw that all the guests had now arrived. She caught Ewan’s eye and he gave a slight nod.

  Miss Chiverton saw the exchange and said, “Shall we join Mr MacPherson’s family?”

  “If you do not mind. I need to find a way to win his sister’s approval.”

  “Yes, of course,” Miss Chiverton agreed. “I am sure that as soon as she spends a little time with you, she cannot help but like you.”

  Ishbel smiled gratefully and they walked arm-in-arm over to the group that consisted of Mr MacPherson, Lord and Lady Picton, Lady Morrelly and Mr and Mrs Hellerton, a couple advanced in their years Ishbel had been introduced to but barely knew. Her nerves grew as they drew closer but Ewan’s aunt turned and gave her a friendly smile.

  “How lovely you look this evening, Miss Campbell,” she said.

  “As do you.”

  “Nonsense.” Lady Morrelly made a dismissive gesture. “I care little about my appearance these days. If my maid has managed to remove the cat hairs from my dress, I am content.”

  They all smiled at this and Ishbel found the courage to turn to Lady Picton. “How are you enjoying being back in your home city, My Lady?”

  Ewan’s sister responded politely, “Very much, Miss Campbell, although it has changed greatly and is continuing to do so with the creation of the New Town.”

  “I believe it will be very elegant when it is completed.”

  “Lord Picton and I have just moved into a house in Queens Street so all the new amenities are an easy distance from us.”

  “MacPherson,” Mr Monro said, joining them. He worked at the University so Lord Huntly had introduced them and Ishbel had spoken to him at a few formal events. “What is this I hear about you dragging Miss Campbell into another wretched murder business? Have you not had enough of causing scandals?”

  Mr Monro’s tone was a friendly one so he clearly meant the words to be taken in a jovial manner, but there was a pause where no one moved or spoke and the atmosphere was thick with tension. Ishbel saw the frown that formed on both Lord and Lady Picton’s features and she winced internally. She forced herself to take a sip of her drink as if nothing was amiss, while she searched her mind for something innocuous to say.

  “There are no scandals involved,” Ewan responded, his calm tone a little forced. “That is the last thing we would want. A young woman died in strange circumstances and we have agreed to help her friends and family find out why, that is all.”

  “Yes, of course.” Mr Monro said, seeming to realise, as his eyes darted round the assembled group, that his comment had caused a problem. “It was a poor choice of words. I would certainly not find fault with anyone who is making the most of their brains as you and Miss Campbell are doing. What is the point of a good education if it is not utilised?”

  Ewan’s strained expression eased. “I find my education is continuing every day as I try to understand what motivates people to act the way they do.”

  “Ah, there has in fact been some interesting academic work done recently on that subject. I will see if I can borrow the latest reports to pass on to you, or to Miss Campbell if I see her first at the college.”

  “I am sure we would both appreciate that,” Ewan said as Harriette and Lord Huntly joined them. Harriette’s husband also worked at Edinburgh University so he was happy to enter into the conversation and keep it on such academic subjects.

  Ishbel glanced round to see how Lord and Lady Picton were reacting to the topic and caught the eye of Ewan’s sister, who said, “Ewan told me that you read about medicine and other subjects but I was not aware that you spent any time at the university.” She did not sound pleased to hear it now.

  “Yes,” Ishbel said, since there would be no point in denying the fact. She had always taken pride in the work so why did she now feel as though she were admitting to a crime? “I attend a number of lectures there every week.”

  Lord Picton’s eyebrows shot upwards and he viewed her with horror. “Do you mean that you are spoken to by male professors in a public setting about such vulgar topics as the appearance of the male body?”

  “I have always been treated there with the utmost respect.” Ishbel refrained from saying that she had watched a number of autopsies of male corpses or Ewan’s family would never speak to her again. “I like to learn, as does everyone who attends the college.”

  “Quite so,” said Lord Huntly with a fond smile at her. “It would be a tragedy for someone as bright as Ishbel to be denied such an opportunity.”

  Harriette did not look as if she entirely endorsed her husband’s view but said to Lord and Lady Picton, “Ishbel’s father worked at the university so she has spent time there from the time she w
as old enough to walk and the other professors still speak of the late Mr Campbell with admiration, so they would never allow any harm to befall his daughter.”

  “I see.” Lady Picton’s tone was unemotional and Ishbel did not think her cousin’s words had been enough to change Lord and Lady Picton’s minds.

  Someone walking behind Ishbel and accidentally nudged her, and Ishbel started. Some of contents of her glass splashed over her hand and onto the edge of Lady Picton’s dress, leaving a collection of damp drops on the green silk. Lady Picton breathed in sharply as she – and everyone else – took in the mark.

  “Forgive me,” Ishbel said, her cheeks flaming. “Let me get a napkin to clean the stain.”

  “A maid will do that,” Lady Picton said curtly with a frown, as if Ishbel’s response, like everything else about her, was at fault.

  The woman turned away without another word and left the room. Ishbel watched her go with a clenching feeling in her chest as she took in the fact that she might have just ruined her one opportunity to obtain Lady Picton’s goodwill and a blessing for Ishbel’s engagement to Ewan.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “YOUR CLUMSINESS was not well timed but I am sure Lady Picton will not condemn you forever for it.” Harriette’s attempt to comfort her the next morning only added to Ishbel’s mortification at what she had done. They were alone, sitting at either end of the long dining table breaking their fasts, Lord Huntly having already eaten and left for the university.

  Ishbel had spent a restless night lying awake, miserable at the thought that she might be losing Ewan. This situation was even more difficult for him than her as he was caught between the love he felt for his sister and his affection for Ishbel. “I do not believe there is anything I can say or do to make her like me now.”

  “Nonsense.” Harriette took a sip of chocolate from a dainty china cup. “You must simply try harder. Would you give up on an academic issue so easily?”

  Ishbel groaned at the unintentional reminder of another concern. “I believe she holds my academic work against me too.”

  “I have never been thrilled that you go off to university lectures, but it does not stop me caring for you.”

  “You are my family.”

  “You can be certain that that fact would never control my emotions nor prevent me from speaking my mind.”

  Ishbel was certain, and felt a little better.

  The butler entered the room and said in a tone of the greatest reluctance. “Mr Cassell is here to see Miss Ishbel, My Lady.”

  “Is that man now permanently employed by you and Mr MacPherson?” Harriette snapped.

  Ishbel smiled as she stood up. “I am relieved to know that your irritation over what I do with my life will not affect our affectionate relationship.”

  Harriette merely rolled her eyes and Ishbel walked into the hallway where Jed Cassell stood in his work clothes, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was waiting for someone to tell him he was not allowed to be inside such a fine house. He could not be more than sixteen years of age and she wondered how young he had been when he first began his job as a caddy. This murder was showing her how difficult the lives of working-class children could be.

  “Mr Cassell, please come into the drawing room,” Ishbel said, smiling at him. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “No thank you, Miss Campbell.” His shoulders straightened as he followed her into the spacious room where they both sat down, facing each other. He had surrendered his hat to the butler and, without that to hold, he seemed unsure what to do with his hands, placing them on the arms of his carved chair, before changing his mind and moving them to rest on his lap. She was familiar with the feeling of not knowing how to act around people in certain situations and spoke gently to him.

  “What have you discovered about Morag’s father, Robert McLennan?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid.” He looked unhappy at having to admit this. “There are a few men with that name in Edinburgh but none seems to have any connection to Mrs Duncan and none are known to be criminals.”

  “Then it is likely that her father is dead,” Ishbel said.

  “That or he left the city a long time ago.”

  Either way, he could not have been involved in Morag’s murder, which was disappointing. She had been sure he was relevant to the murder in some way. “We seem to be having great trouble moving forward with this matter.”

  “I dinna have any luck finding where Morag was before she died either. There was no one living in the area where she died who seemed to be known to her. There were several trials at the courts that day but, again, there dinna seem to be any connection between the criminals and her. Mebbe she was just cutting through the alley on her way to somewhere further away.”

  “Or someone does not wish us to know that they met with her.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed.

  “And no one saw anyone with blood on their clothes on the day she died?”

  “No, Miss, and there might be money in information like that so, if they’d seen such a person, someone would say.” He frowned and was silent for a moment before saying, “It doesna make sense, does it? He couldna have killed her in such a messy way without getting some blood on him and, if he wasna seen, he must live near there. I’ll keep asking questions.”

  She thanked him but, as he left, she could think of little more she and Ewan could do without further information. Most of the people they had spoken to had little knowledge of what Morag’s life had been like for the last year and George and Nan Smith were hardly likely to tell them anything else.

  She hated to consider the possibility but perhaps this murder was destined to remain unsolved.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  MISS CHIVERTON stepped down from her carriage, looked up at the assembly rooms and smiled. She had learned the steps to every modern dance and liked having the opportunity to show what she had been taught at a ball.

  Her father and mother walked sedately towards the open door, her hand on his arm, followed by her brother and his fiancée. Mr McDonald, who had somehow ended up joining them, held out his arm to her and she took it, eager to be inside. She hoped some of her friends would be here... and that there none of her would-be suitors would attend.

  “Your dress is most becoming,” Mr McDonald said as they reached the door and walked into the building, to be immediately surrounded by people.

  “Thank you,” she responded carelessly, searching the room for a familiar face.

  “An unmarried lady can never go wrong with a white gown.”

  She pursed her lips and did not dignify this with an answer.

  “May I fetch you a drink?”

  “Yes, that would be pleasant.” She gave a sigh of relief as he walked away and stood on the periphery of her family’s group, letting the conversation they were having with older friends wash over her as she continued to look round the room. It was full of groups of talking people, the men and married women dressed in bright colours like peacocks, while the unmarried women were more like pale lambs trotting along at their mother’s sides.

  She caught a glimpse of a familiar face and moved to her father’s side. “Papa, there is Mr MacPherson with his sister and brother-in-law. Since you and Mama have not yet met them, will you not allow Henry to introduce you to them? Mr MacPherson is, after all, very good friends with Eddie.” She saw a frown wrinkle his brow at the mention of her other brother and hastily amended her words. “I believe you would find Lord and Lady Picton to be agreeable, refined people.”

  “Very well,” her father said and they approached the group. Mr MacPherson was as charming as ever and dressed in an emerald coat with gold buttons that made him the most handsome gentleman in the room. Fiona thought, a touch wistfully, that Miss Campbell was lucky.

  Introductions were being made as Mr McDonald returned and handed her a drink. She thanked him and hastily took a large sip, wary of accidents after what had happened at the dinner party. Mr McDonald and M
r MacPherson exchanged nods and Mr McDonald complimented Lady Picton on her gown, since he was apparently determined to speak of nothing but clothing tonight.

  “Is Miss Campbell here?” Fiona asked Mr MacPherson and ignored the unhappy expressions of some of the group.

  “I believe not,” he said.

  “I do hope you will not hold her clumsiness against her, Lady Picton. It is most unlike her and was due, I am sure, to nerves. Miss Campbell is the most agreeable lady of my acquaintance, always sensible and good-natured.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Lady Picton said with an unreadable glance at her husband.

  As the subject of the conversation changed to more mundane topics, Fiona wished she could have spoken better on behalf of her friend. She was not sure her words had done any good at all.

  The two groups drifted apart to speak to different people, her parents joining a larger group and when her brother asked his fiancée to dance, Fiona was left alone with Mr McDonald, which was not at all what she wanted.

  “What do you think, Lord Tain?”

  The voice nearby made her turn her head. How did she know that name? Then, with excitement, she recalled Miss Campbell’s murder enquiry.

  “Do you know Lord Tain?” she asked Mr McDonald.

  “A little.”

  “Would you introduce me?”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because he is said to be an interesting, learned gentleman,” she lied.

  Mr McDonald’s expression was perplexed. “You should not try to copy Miss Campbell too much.” Fiona’s heart sunk at the thought that her true reason had been discerned by him. He continued, “While I like and admire the lady, her academic leanings are not entirely approved of by society.”

  Fiona brightened as she realised he had not guessed her true purpose. “Surely a young lady would not be criticised for listening to an intelligent man talk? In my limited experience, it is what many gentlemen most enjoy.”