Clare nodded. She didn’t move when Chloe had gone. Nor did she look around the room.
Her mind was clear this morning. She remembered everything that had happened the night before, and everything before that. Casta. Paul. The cage. The piece of paper. Her signature on the paper making over Duncairn to Paul –
Suddenly she was scrambling out of bed and running to the door, pulling it open.
‘Paul! Paul –’
The wooden stairs were cold beneath her bare feet.
‘Paul –’
The drawing room door was flung open and Geoffrey appeared. ‘Clare, my dear, what’s wrong?’ He stared at her, his heart thumping with fear.
‘Paul – where is he?’
Behind her Chloe appeared from the kitchen, a tray in her hands.
‘He’s gone, Clare. He’s gone.’ Geoffrey was trying to reassure her. He put his arm around her shoulders, shocked to feel how cold she was. ‘Come, my dear. You’ll catch pneumonia like that. Come back to bed –’
‘A paper! Did he have a paper with him?’ She glanced frantically from her brother-in-law to Chloe and back.
‘A paper?’ Geoffrey looked puzzled.
‘He had a briefcase,’ Chloe put in. ‘I saw him from the window.’
‘Oh God!’ Clare subsided on the bottom step of the staircase and put her head in her hands. ‘I’ve signed away Duncairn. I remember it all now. I’ve signed away Duncairn!’
Geoffrey and Chloe glanced at each other. Geoffrey pursed his lips. ‘Clare, love. It is already sold,’ he said gently.
‘No, you don’t understand. It isn’t. Paul lied. He forged my signature … He told me. It isn’t sold. Not legally.’ She clutched the banisters desperately.
‘Where did Paul go?’ Chloe looked at her husband, willing him to know.
Geoffrey shrugged. ‘He was in an awful hurry to get away but he didn’t say where he was going. To be honest I didn’t ask – I was quite glad to see the back of him – but he did promise he would return this evening –’
‘Then he’s gone to Edinburgh. To Mitchison and Archer –’
‘Clare, dear, even if he has, I doubt if a document such as you describe would be valid if it wasn’t witnessed.’ Geoffrey was trying to reassure her. ‘Besides, you have only to say it is not genuine.’ He was trying to hide his shock.
‘Are you sure?’ Chloe looked at him hopefully. She turned to Clare. ‘There. So, you needn’t worry. Look we’ll talk some more when you’re back upstairs in the warm …’
Half an hour later Geoffrey went up with the breakfast tray, the food reheated. In spite of himself he found himself glancing apprehensively around the room. It was full of sunlight now, the temperature average. Chloe had taken one of the bowls of hyacinths from the piano in the drawing room and brought it upstairs. The scent filled the room. She took the tray from him when he came in and put it down beside the bed then she glanced at him and shook her head. ‘You go back down. I’ll call you when she’s better.’ From the bathroom they could both hear the sound of agonised retching, followed by the rush of water from the taps.
When Clare reappeared she was white-faced. ‘I’m sorry, Chloe –’
‘Don’t be silly. Get into bed and keep warm. I’ve poured you out some tea. It’ll make you feel better.’ Chloe twitched the covers over her. ‘The trouble is you’ve nothing in your stomach. You haven’t eaten for days.’ She watched maternally as Clare drank the tea. ‘Paul’s a bastard,’ she said suddenly. ‘An out-and-out unspeakable bastard.’
‘Praise indeed from you.’ Clare managed a rueful smile. ‘Did he tell you I’m pregnant?’
‘Pregnant!’ Chloe stared at her in genuine amazement.
Clare nodded. ‘It’s not Paul’s. Don’t be shocked. Please.’
‘Oh, Clare –’
‘I was so happy.’ Clare huddled under the covers. She was aching all over. ‘It was a dream come true. I love Neil. I never knew what love was with Paul.’ She was gazing into the distance. ‘It was Paul who couldn’t have children, not me. He let me take the blame and I believed him.’ She lay back on the pillows and there was a long silence. Then she closed her eyes. ‘Will I stop having nightmares now?’
‘I hope so.’ Chloe smiled reassuringly.
‘And my daydreams about Isobel?’
‘They were more than dreams, Clare.’ With a quick glance behind her at the room, now so bright and ordinary, Chloe reached for the teacup, refilling it automatically, hoping that the gesture would be reassuring.
‘Were they?’ Ruefully Clare took the cup. ‘But they weren’t dangerous. They did no one any harm. She was part of me. Part of my inheritance, like Duncairn.’ She closed her eyes suddenly, trying to blink back the tears.
‘I’m sure Geoff did the right thing, Clare.’ Chloe tried to sound cheerful. She changed the subject. ‘You know, I am glad Paul’s gone –’
‘He was prepared to kill me to get his way, you know,’ Clare said softly. ‘To inherit Duncairn.’
‘Oh, Clare, no.’
‘Why else was he out looking for me with a loaded gun?’ Clare sighed. ‘I know him better than you, Chloe.’ She was staring into space again. ‘He’s capable of it when he doesn’t get his way and now that he thinks he’s won he wants to claim my baby as his as well. I won’t let him.’
‘Does this Neil person know all this?’
Clare shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know about the baby.’
Chloe frowned. ‘Where is he then? Shouldn’t he be with you if he loves you so much?’ She couldn’t quite keep the acerbic note out of her voice.
Clare shook her head again. ‘I said I love him. I’m not sure that he loves me. It doesn’t matter.’
‘I’d have thought it mattered rather a lot.’ Chloe was affronted. She scowled. ‘I am sorry, love. Here I am being pompous and moralistic and all you want is to rest. We’ll talk some more later, shall we? You must take care of yourself – especially now there’s a little one on the way.’
Clare lay back in the bed after Chloe had gone, staring up at the ceiling. She felt completely drained. Mentally and physically. Her mind was clear now, but it was too tired. Casta. Duncairn. Paul. Neil. Isobel. Casta, Duncairn … She couldn’t think about any of them any more.
She closed her eyes but it didn’t help. Sleep didn’t want to come either. Getting up she walked unsteadily to the window and looked out, thankful that Chloe had left her alone at last. There were shreds of blue amongst the clouds, and a sharp wind had arisen, shaking the last of the melting snow from the dark fronds of the Scots pines beyond the drive. The snow on the lawns was melting too, the soft glaze turning the surface to mirror brightness. She could see a crow plodding slowly across it, leaving a trail of footmarks as it paused every now and then to peck at something below the surface of the snow.
Isobel must have endured another winter at Duncairn, if she lived. What had happened to her? Did she ever see Robert again? Clare frowned, groping in her mind for the thread of memory which would answer her questions, but there was nothing. It was gone. She glanced around the room. It was a cheerful, sun-filled bedroom, full of the scent of hyacinths. There were no shadows now.
The silver cross with the broken chain still lay on her bedside table. Clare picked it up and stared at it, then purposefully she put it down.
Moving swiftly she pulled open her chest of drawers. There, at the back, was a half-burned candle. She took it out and lighting it, melted some wax into the saucer from beneath her teacup. She set the candle down on the carpet beside the bed then she tiptoed to the door and glanced out. There was complete silence from downstairs. Unconsciously she was murmuring a little prayer as she took the key from the outside of the lock and brought it inside. She turned it. Then she knelt before the candle.
‘Oh, Lord, let her still be there. Please, let her still be there –’
Rex picked up Emma and Julia in a company car, complete with chauffeur, for the drive to Heathrow. The boot of the
car was filled with presents. Rex had spent a whole afternoon in Harrods. There were presents for Emma and Julia, presents for Clare, even presents for Jack Grant. To appease his conscience he had rung Houston and ordered a mountain of good things to be delivered to Mary at the condo, then he had rung her and she had finally admitted that she was entertaining her sister and brother-in-law and their four children for Christmas so she wouldn’t be alone. It had made him feel much better.
Julia was almost sick with excitement as they climbed aboard the plane. Already he had told them that a Sigma helicopter would be taking them on from Aberdeen.
She clutched her mother’s hand as the plane taxied away from the terminal. ‘Aunt Clare will never believe it when we arrive in a helicopter,’ she whispered.
‘Indeed she won’t!’ Privately Emma thought Clare would have a fit when a helicopter appeared out of the skies bearing the Sigma insignia. She had still been unable to reach the hotel by phone that morning, and she was just praying that Clare hadn’t changed her mind about the invitation, and that she would welcome Rex Cummin, of all people, to her castle.
She said something of the sort to Rex as the plane took off into the heavy snowclouds.
‘Hell, Emma! It’s a hotel! Of course they’re expecting us. And if for any reason she’s changed her mind I’ll take you to the next best hotel in Scotland instead.’ He grinned. Nothing was going to dampen his own excitement now. He wished he could have skipped up and down like Julia, and noticing Julia’s hand clasping her mother’s on Emma’s lap, he wished he could do that too. He contented himself with leaning towards Emma and smiling. ‘Happier now?’
Emma nodded.
She had tried to ring Peter, three times, leaving messages at his hotel to ring her back urgently. If he had she would have changed her mind; flown out to Singapore – met him anywhere on earth.
As she closed the door of the house the phone had rung and she had fought with the key to rush back in and get to it before it stopped, praying it was him, but it was Gillian, reminding her to give Clare her love …
There was no Clare to meet the helicopter at Duncairn. As it landed on the side lawn at the hotel, whipping the snow into a small blizzard around it, Emma and Julia craned out of the windows to see.
‘It’s like fairy land with all the snow and the Christmas trees and there’s the castle!’ Julia cried, seeing the turrets and the Victorian battlements of the hotel.
‘No honey, there’s the real castle, over there, behind the trees.’ Rex pointed. He felt a strange sadness at seeing it again, a catch in the throat and a feeling of relief too that it would never now be his, that the whole thing had been taken out of his hands. ‘We’ll see it soon. Come on, honey, let’s go.’
It was a perplexed Jack Grant who came out to meet them. ‘Mrs Royland is not here. Surely she rang to tell you?’
‘Not here?’ Emma’s voice was flat with disappointment.
‘Her husband took her away after the accident.’
‘Accident? What accident? Was she hurt?’ Emma stared at him in shock.
‘Not Clare – the dog. Mr Royland shot the dog, by mistake.’ His emphasis on the last two words spoke volumes.
‘Oh God!’ Emma looked helplessly at Rex, then at Julia whose eyes had filled with tears, some for Casta and some for herself, as she sensed the imminent collapse of all their fairytale plans.
Jack too looked at the child. He reached out and took her hand. ‘Well, come away in for now, anyway. You must be Julia? I brought a Christmas tree in especially for you, lassie. So you must come in and see it. You’d be more than welcome to stay for Christmas, Mrs Cassidy.’ He looked from Emma to Rex hopefully over the child’s head. ‘We’ve everything prepared. All I have to do is send Catriona up to put hot water bottles in the beds.’
Emma shook her head, confused. ‘I don’t know what to say. I’ll have to speak to Clare. I should have rung – I tried to ring.’
Jack nodded ruefully. ‘The lines are down. We’re not back on the phone yet.’
Rex turned and ran back towards the helicopter. He climbed stiffly back inside and had a word with the pilot and moments later the idling rotor blades stopped. The pilot completed his close-down procedures and followed Rex back into the snow.
‘I’ve told him to wait while we decide what’s best,’ Rex called. ‘We can always use his radio to get a message to Clare, and then if necessary later we can get him to drop us somewhere else.’ Panting he rejoined Emma and put his arm around her. ‘He’s on loan to us for the rest of the day, so we can do what we like. Even if we can’t get a message to Clare it could be fun to stay anyway, honey, if Mr Grant doesn’t mind.’ He threw a longing glance in the direction of the castle.
‘Mind!’ Jack grinned. ‘It won’t be Christmas without you here!’
Julia shrieked with delight when she saw the huge tree Jack had set up and laboriously decorated in the restaurant after Clare had gone. It had pleased the few customers who had fought their way through the snow and it had cheered him up too. He had found that he missed Clare and Casta more than he liked to admit.
Now they all crowded round it admiring. ‘Can we have lunch right here, next to it? Please?’ Julia tugged at Emma’s hand.
‘Of course, darling, if Mr Grant doesn’t mind.’
‘And Bill too.’ Julia had taken a great fancy to the Sigma helicopter pilot.
‘And Bill too.’ Emma smiled at him.
‘And can we stay? Please?’
‘I suppose so.’ Emma shrugged her shoulders. ‘Why not? It would be fun.’
Later she and Rex went with Jack to complete the formalities whilst Bill went back to the helicopter to unload their luggage.
‘I think we’d like a double room,’ Rex answered when Jack enquired how many rooms they would need.
‘No!’ Emma’s retort was sharp. ‘No Rex. I’m sorry. I’m not ready for that yet.’
Jack turned away, a little embarrassed. ‘No problem,’ he said with a cheerful sweep of his hand. ‘You have the choice of the first floor between you. You can have three bedrooms each if you like.’ He smiled.
Rex ignored him. ‘Why not, Emma?’ He spoke in an angry undertone as Jack walked ahead of them into his office. ‘Come on! I thought we wanted to get to know each other.’ His anger vanished as fast as it had come and suddenly he was crestfallen.
‘I’m sorry, Rex.’
All the time on the flight from London she had found herself thinking about Peter, wishing he was sitting beside her instead of Rex, realising that the whole holiday was going to be a mistake. She looked away, unable to bear the reproach in Rex’s eyes. ‘Think of Julia. She comes to my room all the time – I couldn’t do that to her –’
‘OK, OK.’ Rex turned away to hide his hurt and anger and followed Jack into the office. ‘So, I guess we need three single rooms, landlord, if you please.’
‘Whatever you say.’ Jack gave him a sympathetic smile.
He had no love of the Sigma corporation and he wasn’t quite sure now how they fitted in with Clare’s sister-in-law, but without a miracle they would soon be the owners, and if Clare had invited this man to stay for Christmas, who was he to argue? Obviously she had fallen in with Paul’s plans after all and authorised the sale. He pushed aside his dismay yet again, wondering sadly what Neil thought of all the latest developments. Time enough for worrying about all that later.
It was after lunch that Emma glanced in at the open door of the room next to hers and noticed Clare’s belongings still scattered around it. She went in and stared round, frowning. Clare had obviously left in one hell of a hurry. Some of her make-up was there on the dressing table and her negligée was hanging behind the door. She opened the wardrobe and peered in. Two dresses hung there and right at the back, pushed almost out of sight, Clare’s mink coat.
Emma pulled it out of the cupboard and buried her face in the silky chocolate-coloured fur. It smelled faintly of Clare’s perfume. Clare must have left fast to leave
that behind in this weather! Still holding the coat in her arms she stared round the room again. Books, tissues, underwear, notebooks, sketchbooks – Emma stared at them in surprise; she had never realised Clare could draw – and draw well. They all lay scattered around, waiting for their owner. Clare was a tidy person, she would never leave the room like this. Emma frowned, suddenly suspicious. Somehow they had to contact her, and contact her soon. Of course, it could just mean that she intended to be back soon, to join them for Christmas after all. Cheered at the thought, she turned to leave the room. The mirror on the inside of the cupboard door caught her eye and she realised that she was still holding Clare’s coat. Suddenly daring, she slipped it on and pulled the door further open to admire herself, turning the collar up around her ears, twirling a little to make the full-length furs swirl out around her. It was luxurious and warm and made her feel a million dollars.
Rex had been standing in the doorway for several minutes before she noticed him. She blushed. ‘I know I shouldn’t. It’s Clare’s, but I couldn’t resist it.’
‘I’ll get you one just like it, if you want one, Emma.’ Rex moved over to her and took her in his arms.
She was surprised by the shock of pleasure his action gave her and she found herself returning his kiss, almost shyly, suddenly confused. ‘It’s a tempting thought,’ she whispered.
‘Then it will be the first thing on my shopping list when we get back to London.’
‘You don’t mind too much about the rooms, Rex?’
‘Sure I mind. I mind like hell! But I’ll put up with it.’ He softened the words with a smile. ‘Just so long as I’m with you.’
‘Oh, Rex.’ Suddenly she knew she was going to cry. She turned and fled out of the room.
‘Emma –’
‘Don’t worry. I just need to be alone for a bit, that’s all. I’ve got to think, Rex,’ she called back as she sped along the hall. ‘Where’s Julia?’
‘Grant took her tobogganing with Bill. They’re out front somewhere.’
‘Then I’m going out for a walk. Don’t follow me, please, Rex. I’ll be all right when I’ve had a walk … I have to think …’
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