by C. Litka
Chapter 4: Saturday 22 June
I spent the morning photographing the notebooks and beginning the process of organizing the printed text pages since they were the most accessible and in the best shape. I decided it would save time later if I put the pages in some sort of order before photographing them. Some pages seemed in their proper order, but most seemed rather random. Their subjects didn't help much, quantum theory, entanglement and some sort of virtual or digital quantum theory as well, which gave them a quantum like quality of their own and made it hard to see how they fit together. After I'd sorted them into rough piles, I stared through my fingers at them on the kitchen table for five minutes in dismay before deciding that it was time for lunch.
The day had grown tropical again and I was anxious to get out and enjoy a little of it. But with Lonsdale and a large party of guests about the estate, I was leery of sitting on the bench outside. They'd passed earlier in the morning for the stables and would likely be back for lunch any time now so I didn't care to take a chance I'd be caught off guard and recognized by Lonsdale. It was pretty wild and overgrown under the pines out back, so I decided to lunch on the far side of the stone fence across the lane. The fence was far enough away from the lane that even if they passed mounted I'd still be hidden behind it. I put my sandwiches, biscuits and a bottle of ginger beer into one of the string bags and checking that the coast was clear, made my way to and over the fence, hunkering down in its shade to enjoy my lunch – just me and the sheep on the far side of the paddock.
I may have dozed off, for the next thing I knew Learmonte was demanding, 'What are you doing here?'
I jerked fully awake, gathered my wits and was ready with an innocent Nothing, when someone answered for me.
'I'm going up to the house for lunch and a nap.'
Looking up and around I couldn't see Learmonte's angry face anywhere. Some other poor sod was facing his wrath.
'Gordon left with picnic baskets five minutes ago to meet you and your guests at the Loch Achonie dam for lunch, as we arranged. Why aren't you with them?' Learmonte demanded.
'I'm sore and tired of riding so I told them to go on ahead without me. I'm going to have lunch and lay down for a while,' said the unknown victim.
'You'll do no such thing. Turn right around and re-join the party. Is that clear?'
'No, Father, I'm not. I've told you my program and I intend to follow it. You'll not bully me,' replied his non-Flora daughter, or so I assumed from father.
'You're not going to abandon your guests...'
'They're yours. You invited them, not me.'
'Not only are they your cousins and best friends, one of them is your fiancée as well. I invited him and them for the week expressly to celebrate your graduation. I would've expected you to be pleased, but instead you sulk. You've always sulked...'
'That's unfair. I've not always sulked and I'm not sulking now. I'm worn out from work and studying. I just want some peace and quiet.'
'You've all summer for that,' said Learmonte pushing on, 'You're the lady of the house now so they're your guests even if I invited them. You can't just ignore them when you don't feel like entertaining. It's not a question of doing what you like, it's a question of doing your duty, Nesta...'
'Father, they all know me very well. They understand. I don't need to play lady of the house with them.'
'And I'm sure Lonsdale knows you well enough to see your indifference. I would've thought you'd have learned something from losing Hamilton Fraser to Flora. You can't expect a handsome and personable fellow like Renny Lonsdale to hang around waiting for years when you can't even find time to spend with him after he comes all the way from Oxford to be with you.'
'We understand each other very well. And as for Ham and I – there never was anything but friendship between us. It was only you and mother who imagined that I was in love with him. We were never a couple and I didn't ignore him either. I was at university in Glasgow and he was at King's College in London.'
'Your mother could plainly see your pain when Hamilton fell for Flora. She told me. All because you were always too busy with your studies and didn't pay any attention to him when he was available.'
'Not true. Not true at all. Old gossip. I am and always have been very happy for Flora and Ham. But I've no intention of standing here discussing Ham, Flora or my feelings with you. I'm on my way to lunch. My guests can get by without me. Flora will look after them quite nicely. She's the one cut out to be the family's hostess anyway. Now please, I'm tired and hungry.'
Learmonte is not one to take 'no' for an answer. 'Turn around and re-join your guests. That is an order, Nesta. I don't mean to be harsh, but you must learn that family duties come before your wants. It's important to me and the family that you don't drive Renny away as you did Hamilton, if only to honour your dying mother's dearest wish. Really, it isn't like he doesn't have any other options. He's a fine lad and I'm sure understands you quite well, but you've put him off for two years already. He'll not stand being ignored forever. Now, please, my dear, re-join your fiancée and guests. It's time you grew up and accepted your responsibilities.'
They must have parted or moved on, for nothing more was said. Still, I must have given them a good five minutes before I stood up to return to my cottage.
I turned to find a girl, Nesta, I presume, standing in the lane not three metres from me staring off into space, two tear tracks on her cheeks. She was wearing riding pants, a light tweed coat over a white blouse and green scarf about her neck and a dusty fedora over tightly bound dark auburn hair. She looked up with my movement and gave a startled gasp.
'Oops,' I muttered. 'Sorry, thought you'd gone on...I was just having my lunch here by the fence. Sorry.'
She didn't need to speak. Her angry glare said it all. She hesitated, perhaps blushed a bit, and then turned and stalked up the lane towards Hidden Garden House.
I watched her go. Oh, well. With the growling bear of Learmonte for a father, and the free and easy libertine Lonsdale as a fiancée, I guess wealth has its price.
I climbed over the fence and returned to the cottage and my work. I had the pages in fair order by tea time. There seemed to be a lot of gaps in logic and order, but no doubt the hand written notes would bridge those, once I'd deciphered them. I began photographing them after tea and well into the evening. Took a walk along the river as dusk fell.
Chapter 5: Sunday 23 June