Once again, my feelings were mixed as I rode to my final destination. I was tired now, with Coffee flagging beneath me. By the time I approached Mr Aitken's house of Tyneford all the excitement of carrying news had worn off. I could feel the weariness heavy on my shoulders.
I had never visited Tyneford before although I must have passed the property a hundred times on my various perambulations. As the name suggests, it was situated on a ford of the River Tyne that wends its way through the Lothian countryside. With all the troubles of English border raiders in the bad old days, the local knight had built a tower house to guard the crossing. Now the tower had been added to and extended to form a substantial Adam-style building, too large to be a mere farmhouse, yet not sufficiently grandiose to be termed a mansion.
I halted Coffee on the outskirts of the policies, looking over this house that would be my home if I married John Aitken. It was undoubtedly larger than Cauldneb, more pretentious and with the sunlight reflecting on an array of windows, Mr Aitken evidently had a sufficiently large fortune not to be concerned about the window tax. There was wealth in Tyneford.
'Are you looking for the master?' The man must have been the gamekeeper, a broad-shouldered, red-faced individual with a fowling piece carried in the crook of his arm.
'I am looking for Mr John Aitken,' I said.
The gamekeeper pointed to a stable block at the side of the house. 'Try in there, Miss. He's a right one for the horses is Mr Aitken.'
The gamekeeper had been correct. Mr Aitken emerged at the sound of Coffee's hooves. 'Bless you, Miss Hepburn! You look as if you're all done in!'
'Good morning, Mr Aitken,' I said, stiffly formal. 'I have a message from my father.'
'It can wait,' Mr Aitken said. 'I have a message for you. Dismount from that horse and get some sustenance. God bless you, lassie, you look as if you've ridden for hours! Dismount, my dear girl, before you fall off.'
I was not loath to obey, sliding off Coffee onto the ground with Mr Aitken's hands guiding me down. Still tired from my exertions of the previous night, the bruises that Isabel Snodgrass had given me were also aching abominably.
'Now come inside and get something to eat.' Mr Aitken's voice was benign. 'My stable lads will care for your horse. Coffee isn't she?'
'Yes. Coffee.'
Strangely, given my previous thoughts about Mr Aitken, I was quite grateful for his help. His words were kindly as he brought me inside the drawing room, despite my sweat-froth- and-mud spattered clothes. Riding muddy tracks in a Scottish autumn is not the cleanest of occupations.
'Mrs Mackay!' When Mr Aitken lifted his voice, a middle-aged woman appeared. 'Mrs Mackay, this is Miss Mary Hepburn, the young lady from Cauldneb of whom we have often spoken.'
'So I see, sir,' Mrs Mackay ran an assessing gaze over me. 'She's been riding hard by the look of it.'
'I would say so, Mrs Mackay. I think a dish of tea is in order.'
'I would recommend something more filling sir. How about vegetable broth, Miss Hepburn, with a good chunk of bread and cheese? There's nothing more filling on a chill day.'
'Oh, thank you, Mrs Mackay.' I had not expected such a cordial welcome at Tyneford.
Mr Aitken took my cloak and hat. 'Now sit you down Miss Hepburn. While Mrs Mackay works her magic, you can tell me what brings you here in such a lather.'
I must admit to feeling quite faint as I sat on Mr Aitken's best armchair while he perched on a creepie stool at my side. I took the opportunity to look around the room, wondering what sort of house Mr Aitken ran. Comfortable rather than luxurious, there were shelves of books in one corner, and a glass case showing various botanical specimens in another. Mr Aitken had literary and scientific tastes then. That was all in his favour.
'Now Miss Hepburn,' Mr Aitken was all attention as he sat at my feet. 'Pray tell me what your father's message is. It must be urgent for you to ride so fast.'
'It is, sir,' I related the events of the morning as Mr Aitken listened, nodding at all the correct places.
'I see. This Cochrane fellow, did he say how he got his information?'
'He said that he has been hunting for Edmund Charleton, Captain Ferintosh, for months, Mr Aitken.'
'Very well.' Mr Aitken stood up. 'I will repair to Cauldneb immediately.'
I made to rise.
'No, no, my dear Miss Hepburn.' Mr Aitken put a light hand on my shoulder. 'You have done your duty admirably. There is no urgency for you to leave. You may stay here as long as you wish. Recover your strength, taste Mrs Mackay's good cooking, look around the house.' His smile took ten years off his age. 'Make yourself at home. Meanwhile, I will ride to Cauldneb.'
Make myself at home. With Mrs Mackay fussing over me like a cow over her calf and the fire sparking brightly in the grate, it certainly felt homely in that front room of Tyneford House.
Dressed for the journey, Mr Aitken glanced in before he left. 'Don't you leave here until you are rested and ready, Miss Hepburn.' He smiled, pointing his riding whip at Mrs Mackay. 'Mrs Mackay will look after you as she has been looking after me and mine for years!'
'Please call me Mary,' I don't know why I said that. 'My given name is Mary.'
Mr Aitken's eyes softened. 'Thank you.' He hesitated. 'Thank you, Mary.' I thought he was going to ask me to call him John. Instead, he gave a little bow and backed out of the room. A few moments later I heard the drumbeat of hooves.
I sighed.
'Eat your soup,' Mrs Mackay stood silently in the corner. 'Or should that be drink your soup?' She smiled. 'I am never sure.'
I ate, or perhaps drunk, my soup.
'You are troubled, Miss Hepburn, if you don't mind me saying.'
Mother was always telling me that I allowed servants to be too familiar with me. 'Do I appear troubled?'
'Yes,' Mrs Mackay watched as I ate. 'You were watching Mr Aitken as if you were afraid of him.'
I stopped with the spoon halfway to my mouth. 'I am not afraid of Mr Aitken, Mrs Mackay.'
'You will have no need to be,' Mrs Mackay said. 'If you ignore his occasional gruffness you will find he is a very benevolent gentleman.'
I replaced the spoon in my plate. 'Do you know Mr Aitken well?'
'I've been his housekeeper for upwards of twenty years.' Mrs Mackay said.
That was another of Mother's sayings. You can tell a family by their servants. If the servants remain, then the family is composed of respectable people. If the servants continuously change, then avoid them. I was beginning to get the measure of gruff Mr John Aitken.
'Thank you.' I continued with the soup. It was excellent; every bit as good as anything that our cook made.
'If you permit me to say, Miss Hepburn,' Mrs Mackay said. 'I heard a rumour that you may be joining this family at some time in the future?'
The words jolted me. Was everybody determined to marry me off to John Aitken? 'Have you been talking to my mother?' I could not keep the edge from my voice.
'Your mother? God bless you no, Miss Hepburn! It was Mr John who mentioned the possibility.'
I was unsure what to say. Had my mother and Mr Aitken made all the arrangements already? Was the whole deal so complete that Mr Aitken could even tell his servants? I ate the soup automatically, wondering why Mr Aitken had not even mentioned the possibility of marriage when he was with me.
When I looked up, Mrs Mackay had left the room. Despite the confusion in my mind, my curiosity still compelled me to examine the books in the room. If you are a book-person, then you will understand.
I am not sure what I had expected, perhaps farming tomes or works of classical authors, so I was surprised to find books on botany, biology and horticulture. Clearly, Mr Aitken was a man who hid his interests as well as a kind nature. There were also maps of far-flung places, with a book of sailing directions, which intrigued me. Hidden among the books was very battered copy of The Odyssey, which is undoubtedly my favourite book of all time. Unable to resist the temptation, I lifted it and thumbed through the
pages. The familiar words weaved their spell on me as my opinion of Mr John Aitken rose a notch higher. If only he were not so old!
I left the withdrawing room in a thoughtful frame of mind. It seemed that everybody who mattered expected me to marry John Aitken. My opinion was neither sought nor considered. Yet there was much to be said in favour of that gruffly amiable old man.
Mr Aitken's stable lads had cared well for Coffee. She had been washed, groomed and fed. They grinned as I entered the stable. 'There you are, Miss Hepburn,' one freckle-faced youth said. 'All ready for you!'
'Thank you,' I recognised a lad who loved his job. Such servants are a blessing and a boon.
After a few moments waiting for the lads to replace Coffee's saddle, I mounted and moved off again. With my messages delivered, I had no need to hurry. I ambled across country, nearly nodding off in the saddle until I entered an ancient copse near Hailes Castle and nearly trampled on a man lying on his face to examine something on the ground.
'Whoa there!' I sawed at the reins to halt Coffee. The horse reared up, her hooves missing the man by a few inches. 'What the devil are you doing?' I allowed my temper full rein after holding it in check ever since Mrs Mackay's confirmation of my apparent impending marriage. 'I could have killed you!'
Alexander Colligere did not move. 'Look at what I have here. I didn't know it spread to this part of the world.'
As always with that man, I could not help smiling and shaking my head. 'Did you hear what I said? I said I could have killed you!'
'Yes, I heard you. I'm glad you didn't.' Alexander twisted to lie on his back. 'What are you doing out here?'
'My father is gathering the clans again.'
Alexander rose to his feet. 'I'd better go along and do my bit for king and country.' He was taller than I remembered, I thought absently. 'Are you heading for Cauldneb, Mary?'
'Yes.' My smile faded as I remembered how serious the situation was. 'You may be too late to help.'
'In that case, I had better hurry,' Alexander looked around. 'I left my horse somewhere.'
'He's tied to that tree,' I saw a pale gelding grazing at the side of the wood.
'Come on Masson.' Alexander untied his horse, blowing in his nostrils and offering a carrot. 'I named him after Francis Masson,' he said. 'You'll have heard of him?'
I had not.
'He's a plant hunter,' Alexander said, which meant nothing to me. He mounted Masson with surprisingly easy grace. 'Are you coming?'
For some reason, I wanted to show this man that I could ride as well as he and kicked Coffee into a trot. When Alexander responded, we hurried along the road side by side, throwing up showers of mud as we grinned at each other.
With two of us in competition, the miles passed quickly. Even so, I was flagging by the time we reached home.
'I wondered when you would return,' Mother was at the stone pillars that marked the gate of Cauldneb. 'And you have company, I see.'
'You'll remember Mr Alexander Colligere,' I said.
'Mr…' Mother looked confused for a moment. I had noticed that people tended to forget about Alexander. I presumed that was because he was a little out of the ordinary. 'Oh, yes. I remember this gentleman.'
'Are we too late? Mr Colligere wishes to help father.'
'Mr Ormiston, Mr Elliot and Mr Aitken,' Mother glance at Alexander when she said the last name, 'rode out with your father and some other men some hour and a half ago. I doubt you will catch them now, Mr…'
'Masson is a fast horse,' Alexander said. 'Lady Emily's house of Huntlaw is it not?' He pulled at the reins.
I hated to see Alexander ride away alone. He would probably get distracted by an oak tree or a clump of nettles or some such. 'Wait. I'll come with you!' I followed, ignoring Mother's shout to come back.
It was only a half-hour minute ride to Huntlaw, even with a rather tired Coffee. Alexander made it into a bit of a race, nearly steeple chasing his way across the countryside in a manner that, frankly, I had not thought him capable of. He only slowed down when Mr Ormiston rode into our path, a short distance from Huntlaw.
'Where are you two going?' Mr Ormiston asked.
'We're going to help Father,' I said.
Mr Ormiston frowned. 'Maybe Colligere is, Miss Hepburn, but this is no place for a young lady. It could be dangerous. These are desperate people in there.'
'It's no more dangerous for me than it is for a man,' I said, stupidly. Of course, I knew that women were not as strong as men, or as skilled with weapons. All the same, I was too inquisitive to be left out.
'Ormiston is right,' Alexander betrayed me, the pig. 'I should never have taken you here.'
'You did not take me. I came of my own accord.' I faced him, with my hot temper rising once more.
'Enough, you two.' Mr Ormiston said. 'Miss Hepburn, you can be usefully employed if you relieve me here. If any more gentlemen arrive, send them on to Mr Hepburn. He is gathering his men behind the old stables.'
'Thank you, Mr Ormiston.' I realised that I was only at the very fringe of things, but rather that than not being involved at all. 'What is happening?'
Mr Hepburn, your father, and that King's Messenger fellow, Cochrane, are organising all the gentlemen who arrive,' Mr Ormiston said. 'As far as I know, the idea is to form a cordon around Huntlaw so nobody can escape, then Hepburn, I beg your pardon, Mr Hepburn, Cochrane and a few others will move in to challenge this Charleton fellow.'
'Poor Lady Emily won't be pleased to find that Charleton is a charlatan,' Alexander said.
'Oh, clever,' I acknowledged his play on words.
'You stay here, Miss Hepburn if you please,' Mr Ormiston said. 'Direct any late coming gentlemen to the old stables. 'You ride with me, Colligere.'
Alexander threw me a wink as he turned. For some reason that I did not understand, he took hold of my arm. 'Look after yourself' he said, urgently. 'If there is any trouble, keep well out of the way, won't you? I don't wish you of all people to get hurt.'
Me of all people? What on earth did he mean by that? I watched the pair of them ride into the shelter belt of woodland around the policies of Huntlaw, pulled father's hat firmly down over my head and waited for events.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
As I may have indicated elsewhere, I am not the most patient of women.
Time passed without anything seeming to happen. I dismounted from poor Coffee and patted her. 'You've had a long day, Coffee,' I said, as she nuzzled my face. 'You'll be home soon, I hope, for a long rest in your stable.'
The short day was beginning to fade into the late autumn evening in which everything seems so melancholic. There was no wind and only a solitary bird, who's cheeping only enhanced the loneliness. I thought of poor Lady Emily waiting day after day, year after year, for her long-lost son to come home, only to be fooled by Captain Ferintosh.
'Mary,' Alexander appeared at my side. 'Your father needs you.' With Alexander, there was never any formality. I did not mind. It was a refreshing change to speak openly.
'Why?'
'You are the only person who has seen Edmund Charleton's men close to. They might hide among Lady Emily's servants.'
Although I was keen to be active in helping, I had to speak my mind. 'Surely Lady Emily will be able to recognise strangers.'
'Lady Emily has been alone for over twenty years. Who knows what or who she can or cannot recognise?'
'Come on then, Alexander,' I mounted and led the way, with Alexander's Masson a neck behind me.
There were more than a dozen men alongside Father when he rode to greet me. 'I am not happy about you being here,' he said.
'I wish to be useful,' I said.
'Stay in the background and if there is any trouble, run outside until I say it is safe.'
'Yes, Father.' That was good advice. I had no intention of meeting Isabel Snodgrass again.
'Ready, lads?'
I had never seen Father at this sort of work
before. He was very efficient, ordering three riders to the back of the house and four others to patrol the sides in case any of the culprits escaped out of a window.
'On the count of three.' Father dismounted, ordered one of the younger men to care for the horses and advanced to the front door of the house. I had expected him to knock politely, but he pushed in without hesitation.
I was equally surprised to see Alexander only a few steps behind father, with Cochrane and Ormiston close by. I hurried forward until John Aitken put a large hand on my arm.
'You stay with me, Miss Hepburn.' He winked at me. 'Mary. We'll leave the rough stuff to the young men and those who are paid for such endeavours.'
'Father…'
'Your father knows what he is doing.'
I was not sure what to think. I did know that I felt perfectly safe with this grumpy old man looking after me.
'Lady Emily!' Mr Cochrane roared the name. 'I am Robert Cochrane, Messenger at Arms.'
Naturally, the noise we made attracted the servants, who crowded into the hall. There were far fewer than I expected, only three for a house this size. Lady Emily arrived, dressed in more formal wear than was normal for a woman in her own home, with a huge turban on her head and a black frown on her wrinkled face.
'What's the meaning of this?' Lady Emily goggled at Mr Cochrane. 'Who are all these people in my house? James! Throw them out!'
James proved to be her butler, a man who must have been in his late sixties or even seventies. He stepped forward bravely, prepared to do his duty.
'Lady Emily,' Although Mr Cochrane spoke quietly, there was no doubting his authority. 'I am Robert Cochrane, a Messenger at Arms. I beg of you to listen to what I have to say.'
'I will not listen to you. My son has just come home.' Lady Emily raised her voice. 'Gospatrick! Gospatrick! Come and throw these people out of our house.'
I was not surprised when Gospatrick Hume, alias Captain Ferintosh, alias Edmund Charleton, alias Uncle Tom Cobley and all, I should not wonder, did not appear.
'Gospatrick!' Lady Emily said again. 'Where are you?'
'Lady Emily,' Mr Cochrane said again, every bit as quietly. 'I beg you to listen to me.'
The Name Of Love (Lowland Romance Book 4) Page 14