Music in the Hills (Drumberley Book 2)

by D. E. Stevenson

  ‘How do you know?’ asked Mamie in amazement, ‘I danced with her and talked with her… Och, I’m tired!’ declared Jock, yawning. ‘I’m getting too old for late nights.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  It seemed to James that he had only been asleep for about five minutes when Lizzie came in to wake him. As a rule she put down his cup of tea and went away, but this morning she lingered.

  ‘Is it late?’ asked James sleepily.

  ‘It’s just gone half-past six.’

  ‘Too early,’ mumbled James, turning over and burying his head in the pillow.

  ‘Mr. James.’ said Lizzie. ‘It’s yon man. I told him it was too early, but he’ll not take no for an answer.’

  ‘Who? What?’ asked James, trying to wake up.

  ‘He’ll not take no for an answer,’ repeated Lizzie in aggrieved accents. ‘It’s too early, I said. You’ll not get Mr. James out of his bed at this hour – and after the dance, too – he’ll want to sleep in, I said. But d’ye think he’d listen to me?’

  ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Och, he’s cheeky!’ said Lizzie disgustedly. ‘I’ve no use for the likes of him, the wee, brown, skinny creature’

  ‘Is the cow calving?’ asked James, sitting up and rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

  ‘He was here at the back o’ six if you please,’ continued Lizzie. ‘And me scrubbing out my kitchen. Away and get Mr. James, he says. I’ll do no such thing, I says. So then.’

  ‘Lizzie, who was it?’ demanded James.

  ‘It was the new shepherd, the wee,’

  ‘Daniel Reid!’ cried James, thoroughly awakened. ‘Gosh, of course! I know! Tell him I'll be down in two minutes.’

  James leaped out of bed as he spoke and proceeded to dive into his clothes in record time, but it was more than two minutes before he was ready, and when he got down to the kitchen Daniel had gone.

  ‘You’re to go up to the cottage,’ said Lizzie. ‘He said it’s urgent, but maybe not what you think.’

  This cryptic message puzzled James considerably; he pondered it as he strode up the hill. He had thought it was the ‘sheep-lifters’ as Daniel called them, so presumably it was not. But, if not, what on earth could it be? Daniel was not the man to say it was ‘urgent’ unless it was very urgent indeed. All sorts of fantastic ideas came into James’s head, but none that satisfied him, none that held water.

  The cottage looked very peaceful. Smoke was lifting lazily from the chimney in the still morning air; the windows were bright and shining in the morning sunshine. James ran up to the cottage door, pushed it open and entered.

  He saw Daniel kneeling on the hearth-rug making up the fire, and in the big chair at the side of the fire he saw – Eleanor Shaw.

  ‘Eleanor!’ exclaimed James incredulously.

  She sprang up and rushed at James and flung herself into his arms.

  ‘Eleanor,’ cried James, holding her tightly. ‘Eleanor, my dear, what on earth… ?’

  Eleanor was shaking all over, sobbing soundlessly, clinging to James with all her might. How light and frail she was! She had buried her face against his shoulder so all he could see of her was the top of her head with its silver, silky hair.

  ‘Eleanor,’ he said. ‘What happened?’

  She clung to him and sobbed.

  Daniel had risen and was standing by the fire. ‘I found the wee lassie on the hill,’ he said quietly. ‘It seems she walked over from Drumburly and lost her way. It’s easy to lose your way among the hills. She was sleeping beneath a rock when I found her – well, by rights it was Gyp that found her. She said she was wanting to see you, Mr. James, so I brought her in and gave her a wee drink of warm milk; it was all she’d take. Somehow she put me in mind of a lost lamb,’ added Daniel apologetically.

  ‘On the hill all night!’ said James in dismay.

  ‘Umphm,’ nodded Daniel. ‘And now I think I’ll just go and feed the hens.’ He vanished discreetly as he spoke.

  ‘Eleanor, what happened?’ asked James. ‘You got lost. You were frightened, weren’t you? It’s all right now. Come and tell me all about it.’ He picked her up and carried her over to the fire and sat down with her in his arms. ‘Here’s a hankie,’ said James in comforting tones.

  Eleanor blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be silly. I walked and walked, but the hills looked all the same and it was so cold and dark. When I got to the top of one hill there was another one in front.’

  ‘There always is,’ James told her.

  ‘And I heard a fox,’ said Eleanor, with a shudder. ‘It’s a horrid thing to hear a fox… in the dark.’

  ‘Horrid,’ agreed James.

  ‘Oh, James, I do love you,’ said Eleanor, raising her eyes to his.

  James had not noticed Eleanor’s eyes before. They were grey eyes, dewy with tears. He was surprised at the beauty of Eleanor’s eyes but somewhat dismayed to see that they were full of adoring love.

  ‘I think you’re “a very perfit gentil knight”,’ said Eleanor softly.

  James could find nothing to say, and even if he could have found the right thing to say, it is doubtful if he could have said it. There was a lump in his throat the size of a marble – or so it seemed to James.

  ‘I love you awfully much,’ said Eleanor. ‘I love you like Clare loved Ralph de Wilton.’

  There was a little silence.

  ‘I suppose you don’t love me, do you?’ asked Eleanor in a very small voice.

  ‘Of course I do,’ said James huskily. ‘I love you like a little sister.’ It was perfectly true. He loved Eleanor as he loved Bobbie. In some ways she reminded him of Bobbie, but he could not, for the life of him, see why; for Bobbie was bouncing and cheerful like a large, clumsy, affectionate puppy, and Eleanor was a fairy creature.

  ‘Oh, James!’ said Eleanor in disappointed tones. ‘I don’t love you like that at all.’

  James had been afraid of it. He said with more confidence than he felt, ‘Yes, you do, darling. You love me like a big brother.’

  She snuggled against his shoulder; it was rather pleasant, James found, for she was warm and soft and her silky hair had a faint scent of violets. He put his cheek against her hair.

  ‘You’d better tell me about it,’ James said. ‘What were you doing on the hills all by yourself?’

  ‘You asked me to the dance,’ explained Eleanor. ‘You asked me three times; once that day in the garage and once in the letter and once over the telephone. They wouldn’t let me come, so it was no use, you see. I put it out of my head and I didn’t think of it much until Holly came up to the nursery in her new frock. It was a lovely frock, wasn’t it? Holly came to show me her frock and say good-night. It was nice of her, but it made me awfully miserable. It made me so miserable I couldn’t bear it.’

  ‘You thought you would come!’ exclaimed James in amazement.

  ‘You asked me,’ she said, with a little sob. ‘You wanted me to come… it’s only four miles over the hills… I’ve walked over before. I put on my best frock and brought my shoes in a bag. I thought I would look in at the door and perhaps you’d see me and I’d say I’d come after all. You did ask me, didn’t you? It was light when I started, but then it got dark… and I lost the bag. Oh, dear, do you think it was awful of me, James?’

  ‘Darling,’ said James, hugging her, ‘not awful at all. Of course you wanted to come to the dance. The only thing is…’ The only thing was, what on earth was he to do?

  ‘I wanted to dance with you.’

  ‘Everything’s all right now,’ he told her. ‘Daniel found you, thank goodness. It isn’t a terrible disaster. In a few weeks you’ll have forgotten all about it.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I think I shall always remember and be sorry about it. Not sorry that I tried to come, but sorry I got lost. It would have been a nice thing to remember… dancing with you.’

  There was a little silence. James knew the whole story now, and unders
tood exactly what had happened. He could understand her feelings too. Somehow he could see her changing her frock and putting her shoes in the little bag and slipping quietly out of the house. He could see her running up the hill-path, hurrying along, a tiny fairy figure in the waning light. And then it got dark and she lost her way and the hills all looked the same, and she was tired and frightened and cold! Poor little girl, thought James, tightening his arm about her.

  But it was no good thinking about it, the night was past and she was safe, it was the future that must be thought of. What was he to do with Eleanor? Could he possibly take her home in the car and explain the whole thing to her parents? That was the obvious course. Then he thought of Sir Andrew, with his sarcastic sneer, and of Lady Shaw who was so immersed in Good Works that she had no time to spare for her daughter. They would think Eleanor was mad (perhaps they wouldn’t be far wrong in that, but whose fault was it?), they might think she was bad, but in that they would be very far wrong, thought James. They might even think that he had… that he had – well, that he had tampered with her affections, thought James in dismay. It was not likely that anybody would believe he had spoken to her only once in his life… even Mamie, thought James desperately, would Mamie believe the story? Could he take the child to Mamie and explain?

  James formulated one plan after another and rejected them all. The more he thought about it the worse it seemed. Whichever way he turned there were pitfalls. Eleanor’s escapade was innocent and childish, but people might not see it in that light. The Shaw’s might not see it in that light. Somehow he must save her from the unkindness of people who did not understand, because the unkindness would harm her and destroy her innocence. She was just a child, her head was full of all the stories she had read, full of romance and poetry, so that she was living in another world and not in this world at all.

  How on earth am I to cover it up? thought James helplessly.

  ‘Eleanor,’ he said at last. ‘What are we going to do?’

  Eleanor was sleepy. She had been cold and frightened but now she was warm and safe. She said softly, ‘I thought, perhaps, we could get married.’

  ‘No,’ said James hastily. ‘No, Eleanor, honestly’

  ‘People can get married at Gretna Green.’

  ‘No,’ said James. ‘People can’t get married at Gretna Green, now.’

  ‘Well, somewhere’

  ‘No, you’re too young, darling. Honestly, you are.’

  ‘I’m nearly fifteen. Girls can be married when they’re fourteen.’

  ‘You’re too young,’ said James firmly.

  ‘Perhaps you don’t want to marry me.’

  ‘We couldn’t,’ said James. ‘ People can’t be married without their parents’ consent until they’re twenty-one. That’s the law, so you see it’s no good thinking about it.’

  ‘I could come and live with you,’ suggested Eleanor, snuggling her head against his shoulder.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. I’m afraid you’ll have to go home.’

  He had expected tears and lamentations but there were none.

  ‘We would be so happy,’ she said, with a little sigh. ‘I don’t think Shelley and Emilia bothered to get married and they were very happy together.’

  ‘But that’s poetry,’ James told her. ‘It’s different in real life.’

  She sighed.

  ‘You’ll have to go home,’ repeated James, giving her a little squeeze to mitigate the brutality of his words.

  ‘Not yet, please,’ whispered Eleanor.

  Chapter Seventeen

  James and Eleanor were still sitting there when Daniel returned. Daniel looked somewhat abashed when he saw his lost lamb curled up in Mr. James’s arms and turned to go out again.

  ‘Come in, Daniel,’ said James. ‘We want your advice. Miss Eleanor was tired and frightened, but she feels better now. The only thing is we don’t know what to do.’

  ‘We’ll need to ring up the Tower,’ said Daniel sensibly. ‘They’ll be wondering what’s happened to the young lady.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed James in doubtful tones. ‘But the only thing is… you see, Daniel, it would be better if we could get her back without – er.’

  ‘Umphm,’ agreed Daniel.

  ‘It would save, er, bother.’

  Daniel nodded.

  ‘You see,’ said James. ‘You see the fact is, Miss Eleanor’s parents wouldn’t let her come to the dance, so she thought – well, I mean she wanted to come to the dance.’

  ‘To see you,’ put in Eleanor softly.

  ‘She was coming over to the dance,’ said James, stressing the point. ‘You understand, don’t you, Daniel? She was coming to the dance and she lost her way. It’s quite simple, really.’

  ‘Quite simple,’ agreed Daniel gravely.

  James sighed with relief. ‘So the whole thing is to get her back without…’

  ‘That’s right, Mr. James. And it’s early yet. Maybe they’ll not have missed her.’

  ‘They won’t miss me,’ said Eleanor. ‘I often go out for a walk before breakfast and I’m often late. Of course there’s a row when I’m late but that doesn’t matter… but I don’t want to go back.’

  ‘I know,’ James said. ‘But I’m afraid you must.’ He hesitated and then added, ‘You wouldn’t like to get me into trouble, would you?’

  ‘Trouble?’ she exclaimed in amazement.

  ‘There’s no saying what people might think,’ put in Daniel.

  James was not over-pleased with this remark. It was intended to be helpful, but it raised a point which James was anxious to avoid. He felt he was on thin ice and the best thing to do when the ice is thin is to hurry on to safer holding. But Eleanor, though foolish in some ways, was no fool. She sat up and looked at James.

  ‘What would people think?’ she asked, with a puzzled frown.

  ‘Nothing,’ said James hastily. ‘At least, well, they might think I had persuaded you to come over to the dance, and of course they would be very angry with me. That was what Daniel meant, wasn’t it, Daniel?’

  ‘Aye, that’s it.’

  ‘The best thing to do,’ continued James. ‘The best thing will be for Daniel to take you over to the Tower on his motor-bike and leave you at the gate. Then I shan’t come into it at all.’

  She looked at him. He saw her sad grey eyes, and he knew that she was bewildered and disappointed not only because her plans had all miscarried but because he had failed her. Of course, seeing it from her point of view, he had failed her badly. He must seem to her a cowardly hound, trying to save his own skin. It was dreadful, but what could he do?

  ‘Aye, that’s best,’ nodded Daniel. ‘It’ll save a deal of trouble all round. I’ll away and get the bike. The sooner we’re on the road the fewer folk we’ll meet. I’ll see Miss Eleanor safely home.’

  ‘I’m trusting you with a good deal,’ said James significantly.

  ‘You can trust me, Mr. James,’ declared Daniel as he left the room.

  Eleanor got up. She pushed back her hair and arranged her dress. It was the party frock which she had put on for the dance, but now it was crumpled and stained and dirty.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, with a pathetic little quiver in her voice. ‘I’ve been — a bother. I’ve behaved like a baby.’

  ‘It’s all right. I think you’ve been splendid,’ James told her. But what use was this? It was no use at all. What could he say to comfort her? ‘Darling,’ said James earnestly, taking her hand in his. ‘Darling little Eleanor, don’t worry about it. Some day when you’re older you’ll understand.’

  ‘It’s always when I’m older.’

  ‘If you were three years older I’d marry you – and nobody on earth would prevent it,’ declared James.

  ‘I wish I was three years older – or dead,’ said Eleanor with a little gasp. She turned and went to the door.

  Daniel was waiting.

  *

  ‘So you see,’ said James, walking up and down the drawing-room a
s he spoke. ‘So you see, Mamie, something must be done. We can’t sit back and do nothing. She’ll go raving mad if something isn’t done.’

  ‘It sounds as if she were mad already,’ said Mamie in dismayed tones.

  ‘She isn’t mad,’ declared James.

  ‘What did you say to her that day at lunch?’

  ‘Hardly anything. We scarcely spoke at lunch. Afterwards I met her in the garage and I suppose we must have talked for about five minutes.’

  Mamie gazed at him. They had talked for five minutes and the unfortunate child had fallen crazily in love with him! He was very attractive of course. Nobody could deny that. Mamie herself had felt his attraction, but still… ‘James, she must be a little queer in the head,’ said Mamie uncertainly.

  ‘She isn’t,’ declared James, prowling up and down. ‘She’s just unhappy and half-crazed with shadows… like the Lady of Shalott. She’s rather like the Lady of Shalott.’ (And you’re like Lancelot, thought Mamie, looking at him.)

  ‘Yes,’ said James thoughtfully. ‘She’s like the Lady of Shalott. She doesn’t see this world except through a mirror; she reads and reads until her head is full of romance. She’s lonely and neglected. She’s unhappy. She isn’t having any proper education. Something must be done about it, and you’re the person to do it.’

  ‘Me!’ cried Mamie in alarm.

  ‘Yes, you. You must go and see Lady Shaw. Of course you mustn’t tell Lady Shaw a word about – about what I’ve told you, but just tell her she’s neglecting Eleanor. Tell her Eleanor ought to be sent to school.’

  ‘James, I can’t!’ cried Mamie. ‘How can I? It’s impossible.’

  ‘You must,’ James told her. ‘If you don’t I’ll do it myself. I’ll go over and see Lady Shaw and tell her the whole story.’

  ‘James, listen.’

  But James was not listening. He was standing at the window now, tying knots in the blind-cord. ‘Perhaps, after all, that will be the best way,’ he was saying. ‘It will create a bit of a scandal of course, but that can’t be helped. I shall go over and see Sir Andrew and Lady Shaw, and make a clean breast of the whole affair and tell them exactly what I think of them. It will be rather – rather exhilarating in a way,’ added James, with a little chuckle.