A Dangerous Past

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A Dangerous Past Page 13

by Clare Jayne


  “That information will certainly help,” Ewan said.

  Jed pocketed the money and took his leave of them, so only Lucy remained. Ishbel hoped Mr Cassell would be careful. The recent violence had left her feeling ill and unnerved.

  “It’s not right for you to be at risk over something I asked you to do,” Lucy said. She was still standing close to the door, her hands clasped so tightly that the knuckles were white.

  “It is also wrong for Morag to have been killed,” Ishbel said, getting to her feet. “We cannot allow her murderer to remain free but I promise that we will be as careful as we possibly can.”

  Lucy did not look much reassured by this promise but, used to obeying Ishbel, she nodded and returned to her work, a frown creasing her brow as she departed. She could not possibly have known there would be any danger when she had asked Ishbel to find out about her friend and Ishbel would reassure her further later, not wanting her to worry.

  Alone with Ewan, Ishbel ventured to touch his hand, her ungloved fingers resting briefly on the warm skin. “I hate to see you hurt.”

  He took her hand and bent at the waist to kiss it, which sent a tingling sensation through her whole body. “We will both need to keep servants nearby to put off any further attacks until this matter is resolved.”

  “I will do so,” she promised, sufficiently concerned by what had happened that she would be glad to know they both had protection. Then, thinking of all they had gone through today, she silently pledged that the murderer who had thought to silence them would soon be made to regret his misdeeds.

  Chapter Forty

  THE WEATHER proved astonishingly cooperative on the day of the picnic, the sun shining down from a deep blue sky. Ewan already had Lord and Lady Picton in his carriage, along with their three children and a governess, when he called to collect Ishbel, the rest of the party taking a second carriage to meet them at the agreed location. Harriette and Lord Huntly had a prior engagement which Ishbel thought might be for the best, since Harriette’s blunt comments were not to everyone’s taste. It was difficult for her to relax and enjoy the outing after the recent threats to their lives, but Ishbel’s desire to improve her relationship with Lady Picton was just as strong as her fear. She wanted there to be no reason for Lady Picton to possibly take offence at today.

  Apparently it was already too late.

  Ishbel took her seat beside Ewan and opposite his sister. “I hope your arm is not too sore,” she said quietly to him, the thought of the deep cut hidden by both bandage and coat making her heart lurch.

  “It barely hurts.”

  “That seems to be down to luck alone,” Lady Picton said icily. “I find it extraordinary that so many people have told me how intelligent you both are, when neither of you has the sense to stay away from such dangerous situations.”

  “We were outside a shop in the middle of the city,” Ewan said mildly. “There could have been no reason to fear for our safety.”

  “Is that also your opinion, Miss Campbell?” Lady Picton’s eyes were hard.

  She hesitated. “There is an element of peril in the work we do. As much as we wish it were not so, we are both willing to take that risk because we believe in the importance of what we are doing.”

  “You feel no shame in making your family worry for your safety?”

  “I could be killed tomorrow by a runaway carriage or next week by an unexpected illness. Ewan – Mr MacPherson and I do all we can to avoid coming to harm but not every danger is foreseeable.”

  “It is more dignified and certainly more safe for a lady to remain at home, taken care of by her family,” Lord Picton said.

  Ishbel glanced over at the children: the baby was asleep in the arms of the governess while the older children pointed out animals they could see from the carriage window. She said quietly, “Your wife risked her life three times to give birth to your lovely children. Would either one of you ever wish she had not been so brave?”

  Lord Picton looked taken aback by this and neither he nor his wife answered. Silence fell for much of the journey, Ewan and Ishbel’s attempts at making conversation met with terse answers. Ishbel could not blame Lady Picton for being troubled over Ewan’s injury but could think of nothing to say that would in any way reassure her. The idea of him being in danger scared her too but he would make his own decision on what he was willing to take risks for, just as Ishbel did.

  They were a subdued group when they met up with the rest of their party in a patch of countryside that looked down on a good-sized loch, so the smiling faces of Mr Chiverton, Miss Chiverton and Mr McDonald were a welcome sight.

  As greetings were exchanged, Miss Chiverton whispered to Ishbel, “I met Lord and Lady Tain at a ball recently. I did not learn much but I will tell you about it when we have a little privacy.”

  “I look forward to hearing about it,” Ishbel responded in a similarly hushed tone and, as they turned to face the others, she caught Mr McDonald’s eyes on them, his brow slightly furrowed. She felt a pang of guilt at involving Miss Chiverton in something that had become perilous and resolved to alert the young lady to the threat.

  Ewan’s staff had arrived here before them and placed a tablecloth on a shaded piece of grass, on which now sat china plates, silver cutlery, goblets and a wide variety of food and drinks. There were even cushions provided for them all to sit on and, when they had made themselves comfortable and the ladies had arranged the long layers of their skirts around them, a footman handed them drinks and plates of food.

  Mr Chiverton and Mr McDonald regaled the group with tales of Ewan’s childhood exploits, which Lady Picton soon added her own recollections of, and a relaxed atmosphere fell over them. After the meal had been enjoyed in a leisurely manner, several people remained seated while the rest got up to explore the picturesque surroundings.

  Miss Chiverton gave her a significant look, eyebrows raised, as she stood up and Ishbel nodded and strolled away in her company, leaving Ewan talking with his sister.

  “Had you met Lady Tain?” Miss Chiverton asked, when she had recounted the events of the ball she had attended.

  “No,” Ishbel said as they walked through a small copse of trees, “and I feel it is no loss after what you have said of her.”

  “She was certainly unfeeling over Morag Duncan’s death.”

  “I fear that there are many high class people who would view the death of a working-class woman with a similar lack of concern. I am often shocked over the ability of my own class to treat those of lower social ranks as unimportant.”

  “Was Mr MacPherson injured because of your enquiries?”

  Ewan had dismissed the questions about his injured arm, saying only that he had had an unfortunate misunderstanding with someone. Ishbel was not surprised that Miss Chiverton had guessed the truth.

  “He was and, for that reason, I hope you will be reticent in your questions on our behalf in the future,” she said. “I am grateful for your interest but the bullies who harmed Ewan made a threat to our lives, so they must not suspect you of being involved in the enquiry in any way.”

  “You will not give up the matter?” Miss Chiverton’s response echoed their own anger at the violent attempt at controlling them.

  “No, we shall not,” Ishbel said firmly.

  “Good. Now, I should not keep you from becoming better acquainted with Lady Picton, so that you may set a date for your wedding to Mr MacPherson.”

  Ishbel immediately smiled at this thought, imagining the event. A touch of superstition that she usually scorned had stopped her picturing the wedding as well as the life alongside Ewan that would follow it, but she longed for it to happen. Remembering something Ewan had told her, she said, “I must thank you for speaking on my behalf to Lady Picton. Ewan – Mr McPherson told me about it. That was good of you and I very much appreciate it.”

  “She cannot help but be glad you are marrying her brother when she knows you better,” Miss Chiverton said earnestly.

  Ishbe
l had misgivings on the likelihood of this but hoped wholeheartedly that she was right. They parted company and she looked in vain for Lady Picton and Ewan, walking in a circle that eventually led her back to the cluster of trees.

  Miss Chiverton was still here and was speaking to Mr McDonald, saying forcefully, “I know that you are a good friend to Eddie but that gives you no leave to comment on my behaviour.”

  Ishbel hesitated, thinking she should leave them alone but suspecting that the conversation concerned what Miss Chiverton had done to help with the case, in which case she wished to speak in the young woman’s defence.

  “As a family friend,” Mr McDonald was saying, “I am simply concerned that your youthful naiveté does not prevent you from seeing the risks...”

  Miss Chiverton was positively seething with anger as she interrupted him. “... If you have any wish at all to be considered my friend, you will never again try to tell me what I can and cannot do!”

  She stalked off and Ishbel hastily moved away, since Miss Chiverton certainly did not need anyone speaking up for her and she did not want to cause Mr McDonald any embarrassment if he realised she had overheard the argument. She could understand that he wished to help the young sister of his friend, if that was his only interest in Miss Chiverton, but his officious comments were certainly not endearing him to the lady.

  She walked out of the trees and down the grassy slope to the loch, where she met Mr Chiverton, who was watching a couple of swans glide along the surface of the water, which reflected the green of the plants around it. He offered her his arm with a charming smile, oblivious to the disharmony between his sister and friend. She took it and they strolled along beside the loch. She wondered if she should mention the disagreement, but decided not to, since it had been a private quarrel that would hopefully soon be forgotten.

  “My sister seems to have become your apprentice in the solving of crimes,” he said with an amused look.

  His calmness surprised her. “You do not object?”

  “There would be little point. Fiona and I are alike in many ways, one being that when we make up our minds to do a thing, nothing and no one will dissuade us. Besides, I doubt anyone will be turning to her to catch murderers, so I do not have any reason for alarm just yet.”

  His attitude was a refreshing one and she relaxed and soon found herself laughing at another playful anecdote about Ewan. She looked up and caught a glimpse of Lady Picton’s distinctive russet-coloured dress higher up on the grassy incline. She lifted her hand to wave, hoping they might be able to speak less formally without the rest of their party about, but the woman was already walking away, back towards the picnic food.

  “Shall we rejoin them?” Mr Chiverton suggested, following her gaze.

  “I would like that.” They began to ascend the steep slope, arriving back at the refreshments area out of breath. Between the sun and the exertion Ishbel feared her face had been turned an unflattering shade of red, but there was nothing she could do so she put the thought out of her mind.

  The rest of the group had already reassembled there and were sitting on cushions in the shade, being served food and drink by the footmen. Lord and Lady Picton were involved in a conversation with their children, while Miss Chiverton spoke to her brother. Ewan got to his feet and handed Ishbel and Mr Chiverton glasses of lemonade. “I fear I have no whisky to offer instead,” he said to Mr Chiverton, who grinned.

  “How remiss of you.”

  They were all smiling as they sat down on the cushions once more, Ishbel glad to rest since the unexpected heat had an enervating effect. The children darted off again, followed by their governess and there was a brief silence.

  “You have brought the good weather with you from England,” Ishbel said to Lord and Lady Picton, hoping that, in such lovely relaxed surroundings, this would be a good time for them to all learn more about each other. She finished her drink, which was warm from the sun but still refreshing, and then handed the empty glass back to a footman, where she could do no damage with it. “We have not had the good fortune to enjoy so much sunshine since last summer.”

  “Perhaps your activities are more suited to the shadows,” Lady Picton said.

  The rest of the group reacted to this with startled expressions and Ishbel breathed in sharply as the words pierced her with their cold tone and implication of misconduct. She had no idea what had caused this new hostility and had no idea how to deal with it.

  It felt as if Lady Picton had made up her mind to oppose the match between she and Ewan and she could only wonder miserably what she had done wrong this time.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “DO YOU care nothing for my happiness?” Ewan demanded, when they got back to the house Lord Picton had rented for his family. The Lord had left Ewan alone with his sister to conduct their conversation in private. “Why must you constantly treat Ishbel so unfairly?”

  “I have given her every opportunity to show me a more ladylike side to her character and she has failed each time.” Matilda did not raise her voice but her displeasure could not be mistaken as she stood by the unlit fireplace in the drawing room. The light from the candelabra was dim and left half her features in shadow, making it difficult to discern her expression. Not for the first time, Ewan had the sensation of speaking to someone he no longer understood, as she continued, “I do not know how you could possibly let yourself be so thoroughly deceived by Miss Campbell.”

  “In what way?” he asked, bewildered by her attitude. He could only assume this was about his wounded arm as there was nothing else he could think of that would have provoked this reaction. “I know you are worried that I was hurt but you cannot possibly blame Miss Campbell for that. It is my decision to continue pursuing the exploration into Morag Duncan’s death.”

  “I cannot influence you on that, but were you truly oblivious to Miss Campbell’s shameless flirtation with Mr Chiverton at the picnic?”

  Ewan could not stop the laugh of disbelief that burst out of him at this. “You could not have made a more absurd accusation.”

  “I saw them walking together un-chaperoned, arm-in-arm, speaking and laughing in the most intimate way.”

  This, at least, was a mistaken conclusion he could resolve and hopefully it would be the last of the problems between his sister and Ishbel. He walked over to her. “Matilda, in all the years you knew Chiverton before you left Scotland, did you ever see him pay the slightest attention to a woman?”

  Her brow furrowed. “He was a young man with other interests.”

  “He was indeed. Since you will not let the matter rest without hearing the truth, I must speak it in the plainest way. Chiverton’s affections are entirely bestowed on men rather than women.”

  Matilda gasped as she took in this revelation. “How could you speak so easily on such a subject? How can you remain friends with him?”

  “I have known him for the majority of my life and, in the same way as he has not faltered in his friendship over my unconventional decisions, I have never for an instant wished to back away from my acquaintanceship with him. The subject is a private one that I must ask you never to repeat, even to your husband.”

  “I would not dream of it,” she said, folding her arms, “or he would never allow you to be part of our lives. Ewan, you have never been led astray in such a manner?”

  “My romantic feelings are entirely confined to women, specifically to Ishbel. I did not tell you this to lessen your opinion of Chiverton, whose friendship I will always value, but to show you how utterly wrong you were in what you thought you saw at the picnic.”

  “But Miss Campbell cannot know of Mr Chiverton’s nature?”

  “She does and, like me, she considers him a friend, one whom she may be at ease with in a way that an unmarried woman seldom can with a bachelor.”

  She shook her head, turning slightly away from him. “I thought, when we moved back to Edinburgh, that I would be returning to a brother I knew. I would never have believed that you coul
d make the choices that you have.” She sounded lost and sad.

  “I was a child when you left and you were a naive woman, new to the ways of society and only just married. Is there nothing that you experienced without me where your life you led you to events and decisions that you never imagined? Is there nothing that would surprise or even shock me?”

  She stood lost in thought for a long moment before saying, “You are right. There were times when I acted in a way that I would have said as a child was impossible. I have not always been proud of myself and the events that gave me the most pleasure were not always what I would have expected.”

  He hoped that this admission would change her treatment of Miss Campbell, particularly now that she was aware of her wrong accusation. He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You are my sister and I have missed out on too much of your life. Can we not allow each other to be changed by the years apart and accept those alterations like the loving siblings we once were?”

  There were tears in her eyes as she said with feeling, “I would very much like to try.”

  They embraced and, as he held her gently, it felt for the first time as if he had got his sister back.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “HAS ANYONE of your acquaintance or anyone you have heard of been robbed in the last few months?” Ishbel asked Harriette after they broke their fast together and Lord Huntly left them to go to teach at the university.

  “I have heard of two burglaries,” Harriette replied as she sat working on a piece of embroidery in the drawing room. “Does this question have something to do with your latest corpse?”

  “It does. Do either of the people or families robbed have a man with a temper who might seek revenge against the person responsible?”

  “Your crime work does not seem to have made you particularly observant. It is not the master but the mistress of a home who would be more likely to be furious over being robbed. Her house is where she shows the world her accomplishments.”

 

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