Only Donald remained at the table. He gave Duncan a funny look and burst into peals of laughter.
After calming himself, Donald said, "I saw ye with Abigail. She wore ye out, didn't she?" before erupting into laughter again.
"She certainly has stamina. I'll give her that!" Duncan responded with laughter of his own. He continued, "She's a good dancer too, but I thought I might collapse from dizziness out there. Did you see the way she spun me around? She's stronger than she looks, that one."
"Aye," Donald agreed, chuckling.
Something on the dance floor caught his eye and he pointed for Duncan to see it too. Most of the couples had cleared the floor and William Ainsley had Skye by the ankles, whirling her round and round, her head just inches from the ground. Eventually, Ainsley slowed his spin and bent his knees, releasing Skye gently into her own spin on the floor. Skye spun on her back with her chin tucked to her knees. This was obviously something they had rehearsed. By now, the other couples stood at the edge of the dance floor and the room exploded in applause. Skye curtsied towards William and he gave her a bow. He observed how William looked at Skye. He figured Constable William Ainsley had some sort of feelings for Miss Merriwether.
"Well, that was impressive!" Donald commented when Skye and William approached the table. "I'm glad ye didn't hit yer head on the floor, Skye," her father admonished.
"Don't worry Dad, we've worked it down to a science," Skye said and smiled at William, who looked pleased with himself.
"We've been taking instruction at Miss Welsey's Dance Academy in Tyne. We've spent many hours rehearsing, Sir," William stated, looking at Donald.
"Congratulations to both of you," Duncan said with enthusiasm. "That was incredible!"
He hoped to generate some goodwill with Constable Ainsley, who now sat next to Skye. Skye thanked Duncan for his compliment, but Ainsley remained silent. Abigail Neward plopped down in an empty seat beside Duncan.
"Whew!" the bookshop owner whistled, lifting an eyebrow in Donald's direction. "Did you see Duncan here dancing with me?" she asked.
"Aye, he did a right good job keeping up with ye too," Donald responded.
The entire group laughed as Abigail's nephew, Jimmy Smythe joined the table.
Donald continued with a naughty expression on his face, "I did not see ye out there, Jimmy. Aren't ye dancing tonight?"
"Oh, I was out there. I lost my aunt during the Borrowdale Exchange," Jimmy stated, glancing at Abigail. "I couldn't find her when the Big Circle started," here he gave her a look of reprimand before continuing, "and I got trapped dancing with old Mr. Clapton. He stepped on my feet several times and I tripped over him twice! We were in the outer circle, thank the Lord, so not too many people noticed. I'll never hear the end of it from those who saw the show!"
The table erupted in laughter. The image of tiny Mr. Clapton and the large Jimmy stumbling all over each other was humorous. Jimmy seemed to know his aunt deserted him for Duncan and the inner circle. He continued to entertain their group with stories of his experiences in law enforcement, as people descended on the floor for the Gay Gordons, a jig-like dance.
The festive mood took hold of Duncan as he shared this evening with his new friends and acquaintances. More dances were announced. The Dashing White Sergeant and Cumberland Jig were among them, but everyone in his group remained seated. They needed a rest, and Jimmy Smythe provided enough amusement to keep everyone glued to their seats, for the time being.
When the band took their break, the woman acting as mistress of ceremonies climbed on stage. She asked the auditorium if anyone had the answer to Donald's riddle. No one approached the dais. The lady read the conundrum from a piece of paper and waited for a response. A boy who looked about twenty years old with large spectacles rushed the stage. His glasses were thick and black rimmed and he had coarse black hair that fell almost to his shoulders. His scholarly appearance made Duncan think he might have solved the riddle. Duncan peeked at Donald, who appeared confident.
As the young man approached the microphone, Duncan heard him say, "I think I've got the answer."
The mistress of ceremonies stood aside and let the young man speak. The boy looked towards their table, the spotlight blinding him.
"Twelve pears hanging high, twelve knights riding by, each took a pear and left eleven hanging there," he repeated a portion of Donald's riddle. "The twelve knights shared one pear equally!" the boy said triumphantly. "That's how they left eleven hanging there," he added.
The spotlight shifted from the boy on the stage to Donald. With some effort, he stood and faced the rest of the room, his back to the stage. He shook his head back and forth. Then he turned and shook his head again at the lad on the platform, signaling his guess was not the answer to the riddle. A roar went up from the crowd and everyone cheered the boy's effort and courage in challenging the innkeeper. The young man left the stage, looking dejected. As he passed their table, Donald reached for the boy and shook his hand.
"That was a good attempt, Laddie. Keep thinking on it, ye may solve it before the night's over. I think ye'd do a fine job coming up with next year's riddle!" Donald encouraged the young man.
The boy left their area with a smile and Duncan saw him clasp his hands over his head in a sign of victory as he reached his own table, filled with more young people. Donald explained that the young man was a university student at Saint Andrews. He believed he was studying engineering.
The lights turned up and Duncan was surprised to find that Caroline Menzies had taken the available seat next to him. His muscles tensed as he stole a quick glance at her. She was saying something to Skye, but Duncan could not hear what. The lady at the microphone announced The Saint Bernard's Waltz. Party-goers began filling the dance floor. Abigail squeezed Duncan's forearm and was about to say something when Caroline interrupted her.
"Would you be willing to have a go at this dance?" she asked Duncan.
He barely felt poor Abigail release his arm. He could almost hear his heart pounding against his chest. He couldn't believe his good luck.
"Yes, I would," Duncan answered, trying not to sound giddy or too eager.
They rose from their seats and Duncan took her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor. The entire time, he experienced a small electric current run up and down his arm, then his spine. He felt nervous and his pulse quickened. He tried to control his nerves and hoped she didn't notice.
The band struck up the slow, mournful music that accompanied this waltz. The dance allowed him to place his hand on the small of Caroline's back. He took advantage of the opportunity and held her close, more so than was typical in the Saint Bernard's Waltz. He guided her forward and backward, then to the side. Then, they each stomped their right foot twice before switching directions and continuing. After the second set of stomps, she spun under his arm and danced to another partner. That was the part of the dance he did not like. Now, he was stuck with a heavy set teenage girl who seemed delighted to have him as a companion. She giggled the entire time they danced together. Duncan smiled at the girl, but his thoughts were with Caroline and how they'd moved in unison during the waltz. Three large circles of dancers had formed at the beginning of the dance and Duncan knew the music would end before she made her way back to him.
As he suspected, the band ceased playing, and the announcer called Strip the Willow. People began forming lines of about ten dancers, and he made sure he positioned himself in a row across from Caroline's. He always loved Strip the Willow, and this dance would give him a lot of contact with Caroline Menzies.
As the music began, a person from each row danced into the middle lane created by two lines of dancers. They locked elbows with their counterpart and spun around. Then they moved up the line, to a point where another dancer entered the center, taking the place of the first. Each person in the line took their turn dancing in the lane.
Duncan entered the lane and locked elbows with one of the waitresses from the Blue Bell. They both laughe
d as they spun, and he returned to the line, replaced by an elderly gentleman. Soon, the dancers had moved back down the line, and it was his turn to enter the lane again. This time, his partner was Abigail. He had not seen her take a position in the column. He smiled down at the owner of Cat's Books. He felt bad about what happened earlier. She spun back to the row and was replaced by Caroline. His time locking elbows with her was all too short, as someone took his place almost immediately.
The band played faster and faster, and more people made mistakes as the pace increased. Everyone was laughing, gasping for air, and sweating before Strip the Willow came to an abrupt end. Engrossed in the dancing, he forgot the pain in his hip. The crowd cheered as he lost sight of Caroline. He hoped to escort her back to the table. Instead, he grabbed Abigail's hand and led her to their seats.
The party wound down and the announcer called Nice To See You, the last dance of the night. He decided to sit this one out. Afterwards, the lights raised again and Donald signaled that he required his help. Duncan helped the older man onto the dais, as the spotlight found them.
"Would anyone like to solve tonight's riddle? This is yer last opportunity. Anyone, anyone?" Donald announced.
Duncan wondered if Abigail knew the answer. If she did, she kept quiet. He himself had been too busy thinking about Caroline all night to spend any brain power on the conundrum. No one else attempted an explanation.
Donald asked, "Would ye like me to solve the riddle?"
The room erupted in applause. He couldn't see the audience, but it sounded like a full house. Everyone must have stayed to hear the solution.
"Are ye sure?" Donald asked, speaking into the microphone.
More applause.
"All right then," Donald paused for effect. Then he continued, "Twelve pears hanging high, twelve knights riding by, each took a pear, and left eleven hanging there." Donald paused once more, and then explained, "Sir Robert Each, honored by the Bruce in 1314, took the pear. He left eleven hanging there!"
Silence hung heavy in the auditorium. Duncan began to worry about the crowd's response, but the innkeeper looked triumphant. Then, the cheering began. Donald's riddle was an enormous success. He took a bow to his left and another to his right before allowing Duncan to assist him off the stage. Back at the table, the investigator glanced at Abigail. Their eyes met and he raised his eyebrows as if to ask her if she had known the solution. She immediately averted her gaze, looking down at the table. He was sure he detected a tiny upturn of the corners of her mouth. She had known the answer to the riddle!
Chapter 8 - Mingling with Presidents
Before he went down for breakfast, Donald phoned him with the good news regarding his Vauxhall. The mechanic had driven out to the old kirk with Donald earlier that morning to take a look at the automobile. A loose wire was the culprit. He repaired the vehicle on the spot, no charge as a favor to the innkeeper, and Donald drove it back to the Blue Bell for Duncan. He could not believe his good luck.
As he drove out of town towards the castle, Duncan felt jittery. He always experienced a degree of excitement when about to inspect a site. He loved the feeling that a discovery was right around the corner, waiting for him. He was certain he would find something today that would shed light on what really happened to Stuart. On top of this normal anticipation, he looked forward to seeing Caroline again. He had not slept much last night. He went back and forth, experiencing the hope that something might develop between them, then doubting she even thought of him. He replayed the evening's events over and over. Casual contact with Caroline was not enough for him. He wanted more. Thoughts of the sermon tried to force their way into his consciousness, but he pushed them out. The theme of his recent book purchase even popped into his mind. The Woman, as Holmes referred to her, got the better of him. He banished any ideas that might form regarding these coincidences.
Duncan took a few deep breaths and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was cool and the color of today's cloud cover intimated rain. He hoped to examine the battlements before a downpour arrived. He passed the area where Peter had tried to run him down. Duncan felt a knot form in his stomach. It was the same sensation he always experienced whenever he witnessed or heard of injustice. Maybe he should have been a barrister.
The Vauxhall sputtered through the entrance to the estate and Duncan parked in front of the castle. The overcast skies reflected on the structure's stone, lending a gray tone to the building's walls. This difference in appearance stunned Duncan. On his prior visit, sunshine reflected off the castle, making it appear golden. A more sinister looking building loomed before him today.
He knocked on the door and was promptly welcomed by Caroline and her retinue of canines. The smallest growled at him and received a reprimand from his mistress. He shifted his gaze from the dogs to his hostess. She appeared smart in a long, olive wool tweed skirt and expensive looking chestnut brown leather boots. She wore a solid green cashmere sweater, which contrasted with her blonde hair. Perfectly fitted to her body, Caroline's clothes were impeccable. The sight of her turned his mind to last night's dance when he held her in his arms. Duncan was glad he wore his new clothes today. She guided him into a small study with a fireplace, desk, and two plush chairs. The fire produced just enough heat to make the room comfortable. She gestured for him to sit at the desk and she sat down opposite.
The dogs followed them and now gathered around her chair, eyeing their guest. He felt the old uneasiness with dogs creep over his body. Caroline noticed him observing her pets.
"The Scottish Terrier is General Washington," she stated, pointing towards the growler, a white Scottie. "The large black shepherd mix is Lincoln." She gestured toward a panting dog whose pink tongue hung from one side of its open mouth, revealing huge canine fangs. "And my gray spotted friend here is Roosevelt." Roosevelt had wild blue eyes, and he looked unpredictable to Duncan.
After these introductions, she lavished rubs and scratches on the animals. Lincoln dropped on his side, exposing his underbelly and his mistress rewarded him with an extended tummy rub. Roosevelt's eyes darted from Caroline to Duncan and back in an unnerving fashion, while General Washington disappeared from view.
"Are you an animal lover, Duncan?" she asked, looking up from Lincoln.
"I'm more of a cat person, I'd say," Duncan lied.
He tolerated the family feline growing up, but was not a big fan of animals, as pets. They were fine in zoos or on the savannahs of Africa.
"These were all gifts from Stuart. I named them after U.S. presidents, based upon their personalities," she stated. "General Washington here is fearless, and of course his fur color reminds me of the president's hair."
Caroline dipped her head and spotted the Scottie under the desk.
"Mister Lincoln is gracious and long suffering. Plus, his black fur reminds me of President Lincoln's stovepipe hat," she added.
At the mention of "stovepipe" Duncan thought of Stuart. A twinge of guilt hit him for making fun of the dead man.
Pointing at the wild-eyed, spotted creature, she continued, "Roosevelt has an inquisitive nature and is adventurous and brave, just like Theodore Roosevelt."
Duncan had assumed the threatening Roosevelt was the namesake of FDR. All he knew about Teddy Roosevelt was that his face was carved on Mount Rushmore in America. After explaining her dogs' names, Caroline sat up straight and waited for Duncan to begin.
He seemed a little distracted by her pets, so she said, "I'm ready."
Several thoughts ran through Duncan's brain and he hoped he didn't blush as he fumbled with the papers in his briefcase. He found it difficult to concentrate on work while in Caroline's presence. When he had composed himself, he explained that he would need to examine various areas of the castle and grounds. He had to further question Caroline as well. She nodded, signifying she understood this.
"Do you recall being examined by Dr. Prew for a physical approximately four years ago?"
"Yes, I do. Stuart thought it was a good idea t
hat we both get physicals, just to have on record basic health information."
Caroline raised her eyebrows as if to ask if he needed more information.
Duncan continued, "So you did not know Stuart used the results of that physical to acquire life insurance?"
"No, I did not."
He looked up from the computer and smiled, trying to soften the blow of his next question.
"Three years ago, Doctor Prew treated you for a broken arm. How did you break it?"
Caroline held up the same arm he had bruised earlier. The skin still had an ever-so-pale blue tone.
"I broke this in a fall I took down the spiral in the north tower. I can show you the stairs when I give you the grand tour."
Duncan was happy to hear he'd be getting a tour. He tried to observe Caroline without being too obvious. She remained calm and appeared unbothered by his question. She was a cool customer, alright. He felt something heavy push against his foot. He glanced down and saw Lincoln laying next to him, the dog's head resting on his shoe. He took a breath before continuing his questions.
"Caroline, I want to ask you something about Peter." He paused to observe her reaction. There was none, so he went on, "Did you prompt him to report the incident to the police the other day?"
"I confronted him with what you told me. I did warn him that he was going to find himself in serious trouble if he sped around these country roads carelessly. I didn't know he went to the police," she explained.
He took her at her word as a wave of relief spread over him.
"Now… " he began his next area of questioning when a stirring of the dogs interrupted him, and a young girl entered the study.
"Can I get either of you anything?" she asked.
Caroline spoke first, "Duncan, this is Stuart's niece, Julia. Julia, this is Duncan Dewar. He is from the insurance company investigating your uncle's death."
Julia was not as he had expected. He did not get the chance to form an opinion when he saw her at the kirk. She appeared young and innocent, even sweet. He stood as Caroline introduced him and put his hand out to shake Julia's. Lincoln shifted on his foot. Caroline asked for a glass of water for each of them and Julia stepped from the study. She returned shortly with the glasses. Duncan continued to scrutinize the girl. She wore little or no make-up and kept her hair in a pony tail. She resembled a waitress in her attire. Caroline thanked her and she disappeared into the hall. He recognized the family resemblance between Peter and Julia. She looked like she was about sixteen years old, not the twenty years she actually was.
Mystery: The Merlon Murders: A Duncan Dewar Mystery of Romantic Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 1) Page 11