Marianne looked forward to further amusement when he shepherded her into the next large section, but he was thinking in his best English again. ‘This is where the spinners spin the wool into yarn or thread.’
All the machines amazed her, but she was absolutely fascinated by the looms, walking round and asking questions of the men who were deftly making sure that the shuttles were going where they should. She learned from one that the threads going one way were called the warp, and those going the other way were called the weft, and the machines had to be set up to make the shuttle pick up or miss however many threads were needed for that particular cloth.
She discovered also, although she should have realized, that tartan was the most complicated to set up, with the different colours, the different checks, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the patterns as they gradually took shape. The foot pedal was only used when the shuttle was in the right position, but the men worked so quickly that there was hardly any delay between each step.
She found that there were several grades of flannel, fine weave, medium and coarse, and the same with the tweeds. She could have remained there all day, but Mr Gillies was anxious to return to his proper duties.
Going more quickly through the place where the wool was spun, put into skeins then dyed, and the smaller room where two men were cutting out at long tables and another two were putting pieces together with meticulous stitching, they came to the huge warehouse where all the finished items, bales of material, hand-made suits, and garments knitted by the shepherds’ wives, were stored in readiness for scrutiny by the buyers who came before each new season began.
‘We don’t deal with the general public,’ Mr Gillies told her, ‘just retailers, and the orders keep flooding in.’ She was glad to hear that. The family’s income would be ensured for the future.
He left her at the office, where Hector asked her, ‘What d’you think of my domain, then?’
‘It’s … it’s … I can’t think of the right word. Marvellous, clever, everything’s going so well …’
‘So it should be at the wages I pay, and the number of overseers I employ.’ His puckish grin belied the menace of his words.
Hamish took her back to the main entrance, saying as they went down the wooden stairs, ‘No more visits, Marianne. Father perhaps gave you the impression that he didn’t mind, but he does not like any intrusion into his business.’
‘I wasn’t intruding,’ she protested. ‘I just wanted to see the inside of the mill, and now I’ve seen it, I don’t need to come again.’
‘I’m sorry if I offended you, my dear, but it’s best that you know where you stand.’
The stable lad, sitting in the trap waiting for her, jumped down when he saw her coming, but Hamish himself handed her up, which made her feel less upset at him, and by the time she arrived back at the castle, she knew he’d been right to warn her, although she’d had no intention of interfering in the workings of the mill, anyway.
Yet her visit had taught her one fundamental thing. Even if the handful of women workers had been politely forthcoming when she spoke to them, none of them could ever be her friend. The chasm between workers and employers, even employers’ wives, was too wide to be bridged. But she missed female company. She missed the Rennies, missed having someone she could talk to, tell her thoughts to, ask advice from. Even if she had lived, Lady Glendarril wouldn’t have come anywhere near to filling the bill. The only women – ladies – in the glen who might let her get to know them better would be the wives of the doctor, the minister and the dominie, preferably the first two, after what Hamish had told her, and because they were nearer her own age.
With the intention, therefore, of trying to establish some sort of relationship with at least one of the other two, Marianne set off the following afternoon to call at the manse. The minister’s wife had seemed a friendly person when they spoke at the wedding, even telling her not worry what anyone said about them being married immediately after Lady Glendarril’s funeral. She obviously understood how the poor young bride was feeling.
Mrs Peat looked a little flustered when she opened the door – Marianne had forgotten that most ministers’ stipends didn’t run to employing a maid – so she said apologetically, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve come at an inconvenient time.’
‘No, no, come in, please. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting …’ She led the way into a cosy room where the doctor’s wife jumped up from where she was sitting. ‘Lady Marianne’s come to call, Flora,’ she said brightly, as the other woman’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
Not altogether sure if she was doing the right thing, Marianne corrected her. ‘I’m not really the Lady, you know, so why don’t you just call me by my given name?’
Mrs Peat’s hesitation was infinitesimal. ‘It seems a bit familiar, but if that’s what you want, I’m Grace and this is Flora, the doctor’s wife.’
They all shook hands before they sat down.
The conversation was a little stiff at first, both Marianne and Flora leaving most of the talking to Grace, who prattled on gaily about anything that came into her head, but at last, Marianne told them of her visit to the mill and how her father-in-law hadn’t been too pleased about it, which began a discussion on how much his family had done for the glen over the years. ‘Lord Glendarril put both Duncan and Robert through university,’ Grace confided. ‘They were at school together, the glen school, and the dominie told the laird it was a great pity that two such clever lads couldn’t make use of their brains.’
Flora Mowatt interrupted here. ‘It started long before Duncan and Robert, though. It was the present Lord Glendarril’s father, or maybe his grandfather, who first paid for a local boy’s education.’
This led to a discussion on the merits or otherwise of helping a boy from a poor family to get on in the world. ‘Duncan says if he hadn’t been obligated to his Lordship,’ Grace said, at one point, ‘he might have been called to a big church in one of the cities, instead of mouldering away here, but, to be quite honest, he hasn’t the personality to be in charge of a large congregation.’ She looked from one to the other of her companions with a wry grimace. ‘You probably think I’m not very loyal to my husband, but he gets on my nerves sometimes, being so bumptious. I often wish he was more like Robert.’
Flora shrugged. ‘Robert can be annoying at times, too. He’s always getting on at me for not mixing with the other women, helping them out, making sure they’re not going short of anything, but I tell him that’s not our problem. It’s not that I’m not sympathetic, it’s just … well, I’ve always been slow at speaking to people I don’t know very well.’
‘That’s why you never get to know them,’ Grace said triumphantly. ‘It takes a bit of courage to take the first step. Don’t you agree, Marianne?’
‘I suppose it does,’ Marianne said cautiously, not wanting to offend either of them.
‘But you did it today,’ Grace reminded her. ‘You had the courage to call without going through all the rigmarole of leaving a card first.’
Feeling quite at home with them now, Marianne laughed at this. ‘I didn’t leave a card first because I didn’t know that was expected. I wasn’t brought up to that kind of thing, you see, but the difference between Flora and me is that she’s shy and I’m not. Neither are you, Grace, so it’s easy for us to speak.’
When, in about fifteen minutes, Flora stood up to leave, Marianne also jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, my goodness, look at the time! Have I overstayed my welcome?’
‘You certainly haven’t,’ declared Grace. ‘We’ve thoroughly enjoyed your company.’
The doctor’s wife nodded vehemently. ‘Yes, indeed, and Grace and I usually take it turn about once a week, so you must come to our house next Tuesday.’
And so began a new cycle, with Marianne offering to be hostess at the castle every third week.
When they learned of this arrangement, neither Miss Glover nor Mrs Carnie was happy with it. ‘Lady Glendarril never asked an
y of them to tea,’ the cook grumbled.
‘There was a garden party every summer, of course,’ the housekeeper recalled, a little sadly. ‘There were marquees set up for the teas, and a beer tent for the men, but nobody was ever allowed inside the castle.’
‘Well, I’m not her Ladyship,’ Marianne said hotly, ‘and if I want to make friends and invite them for afternoon tea, I’ll do it!’
Guessing that Hector, too, would not be at all pleased, nor Hamish, she waited somewhat apprehensively for their reaction when she told them and was taken aback when they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
‘You said she would take her own way if she wanted anything,’ her father-in-law chuckled, ‘and I admire her for it.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘Just watch, though, my lass. It may not turn out so easy for you every time, but I can see no harm in giving you your head over this.’
Bolstered by her success, Marianne said, ‘And I think I’ll start going round the cottages to see if any of the wives need anything, something repaired or replaced –’ She broke off, noticing that both men were frowning, and unable to say anything to his father, she vented her annoyance at her husband. ‘I don’t know why you look so disapproving, Hamish. There could be things they don’t like to ask the factor to have done.’
Getting no reply, she stood up and gave it one final shot. ‘Well, I’m going up to bed. Are you coming to me tonight, or are you waiting another week?’
She practically ran out, but not before she had seen Hamish’s face turn dead white, and once in her room she flung herself on the bed. She shouldn’t have shamed him like that in front of his father. He didn’t deserve it! But why was he always so reluctant when she knew he enjoyed the matings as much as she did? She knew that because … well, because of how he did what he did when he did it. Besides, a girl could tell things like that.
She gave a guilty start when there was a knock at her door a few minutes later and Hamish walked in, but before he could start the telling off she was sure he had come to give her, she said defensively, ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help saying it.’ She came to an abrupt halt, for there was not even the slightest sign of anger on his face when he sat down on the edge of her bed.
‘There is no need for you to feel sorry – you were right to let me know how you feel, but, as a matter of fact, I have been considering asking you if … I may … share your bed more often, because …’
‘Because your father told you to hurry up and make a grandson for him?’
‘He did, actually, but I had been intending to ask tonight in any case. However, I do not wish to force myself on you if you would rather –’
‘You’ve the right to, as a husband,’ she pointed out, not quite so bitterly.
‘Ah, yes, in the eyes of the law, but ours was merely a business arrangement, was it not? Still, I had better put more effort into it –’ He broke off, his mouth turning up and a smile making his serious face so much more attractive, she thought. He gave an embarrassed cough. ‘My turn of phrase was inappropriate, I’m afraid, but I am sure you know what I meant. I am more than willing to become a nightly visitor as long as you don’t mind. I will, of course, depend on you to let me know when … it is not convenient.’
It took her a little time to understand what he meant by that, then flushing, she whispered, ‘I don’t mind.’
His eyes now held something she couldn’t define. ‘Thank you, my dear, and I promise that I will not force my attentions on you once I know … well, you know what.’ He stood up and, not looking at her again, mumbled, ‘I shall not be long. I am just going to undress.’
Left alone, she found her heart was doing all sorts of unusual acrobatics. She had had a vague suspicion for several weeks that she felt more towards him than she had done at first – maybe it wasn’t love yet, but not very far from it – and judging by the way his eyes lingered tenderly on her at times, surely he was feeling the same. Was their marriage of convenience going to turn out a real love match after all?
Sadly for Marianne, however, Hamish made no mention of love that night or any of the nights thereafter, although his ‘efforts’, as he had called them, were really quite loving, and sometimes, at the height of his passion, he kissed her like a lover should, and murmured her name and gripped her tightly as if he never wanted to let her go, but she would be much happier if only he could bring himself to tell her what she wanted to hear. And he made matters worse by going to his own room shortly afterwards.
Hector would probably not have been so pleased about his daughter-in-law’s choice of friends if he had heard their conversation one Tuesday a few weeks later.
The ladies had been commenting on how strange it was that the wife of one of the shepherds had just had her first baby after ten years of marriage, while a weaver’s wife had taken only nine months from her wedding to produce her first, when Marianne suddenly said, ‘My father-in-law can’t wait for me to give him a grandson.’
‘What’s stopping you, then?’ laughed the minister’s wife.
‘Grace Peat!’ exclaimed the horrified Flora. ‘You shouldn’t say things like that.’
Marianne shook her head. ‘It’s all right, I don’t mind. Nothing’s stopping me, Grace, except my body. I must be like the shepherd’s wife, because Hamish and I are trying but we’ve had no luck yet.’
‘Duncan doesn’t want any children,’ Grace sighed, ‘but he’s got quite an appetite for …’ She stopped, colouring slightly, then added, ‘I’m on tenterhooks every month because he has a vile temper when he’s angry.’ She looked pointedly at Flora now, as though demanding that she, too, should lay bare the intimate side of her marriage, and at last, her face a deep crimson, the doctor’s wife said, ‘Robert and I desperately want a baby, too, and I’ve been pregnant twice, but I lost them both at three months.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Marianne murmured, but Grace said accusingly, ‘You never told me that, you secretive thing. But you shouldn’t be depressed about it. Keep trying. If Robert’s managed it twice, he’ll manage again.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Flora’s expression had brightened. ‘He says the same, that two miscarriages don’t mean that I’ll never carry to full time, but I thought he was only trying to stop me losing hope.’
‘He’s the doctor, for goodness’ sake,’ Grace said firmly, ‘so he should know. You and Marianne will have to keep trying, and if I can, I’ll stop the douching Duncan insists on to prevent me conceiving. Wouldn’t it be fun if we all landed in the family way together?’
Her candour about so delicate a subject, and the very nature of their discussion, forged a firm bond between them, which pleased three husbands and at least one father-in-law, who would all have been absolutely appalled had they known the reason behind the closeness.
Chapter Ten
It was August of the following year before Marianne realized what had happened, by which time she had missed twice, and after she gave Hamish her good news, he completely stopped coming to her room at nights. But there was no doubt that he was proud of himself, strutting about like a cock on a muck midden, with a new spring to his step, and he told his father straight away, though she’d asked him not to say anything yet. She had also been quite put out that Hector had taken it on himself to announce it to all and sundry, for she’d have preferred her condition to be kept secret until it could be hidden no longer.
News of her pregnancy was the talking point in every house in the glen within a day of her telling her husband, mainly because Mima Rattray, shopkeeper and postmistress, had instant access to the ears of all the womenfolk. ‘Of course, I never believed yon story that went round about The Master,’ she would say after imparting the exciting information. ‘There was never nothing peculiar about him.’
One of her customers did dare to justify her own credulity of the rumour. ‘Well, right enough, there musta been some mistake there, but you canna deny it was queer he never looked at ony o’ the lassies here.’
‘But,
Lizzie, dinna forget, he’s gentry,’ Mima pointed out, thus explaining everything, but adding also, ‘He’d just been waiting to find the right wife and what’s wrong wi’ that, tell me?’
Lizzie being suitably cowed, one of the other women in the shop said, ‘Aye, there’s something to be said for the groom bein’ a virgin as weel as the bride.’
This led to a debate on the benefits or otherwise of such a combination, and ended in such a riot of hilarity that Mima had to put her foot down firmly to keep them in order.
Because of the shame they felt at jumping to their wrong conclusions before, the glen folk were extravagant with their congratulation to the laird and the parents-to-be. Marianne responded to their good wishes with shy embarrassment, Hamish accepted them with a smiling murmur of thanks, but Hector acted as if he alone had worked the miracle. He even began carrying a silver flask of whisky with him wherever he went, so that those he met could drink to the fertilization.
Robert Mowatt having passed on the good news in sympathetic confidence to his wife, Flora confidentially told Grace Peat, and so they actually knew before Marianne told them herself, which gave them time to temper their envy. Nevertheless, she could discern more than a touch of wistfulness in each pair of eyes when they affirmed their rapturous joy at her good fortune. ‘Your turns are bound to come,’ she told them, gently, ‘so don’t give up.’
Flora grimaced. ‘Robert says we should wait a full year from the time I lost the second one, to give my body time to recover. But I don’t know …’
‘At least he’s planning for you to conceive again,’ Grace sensibly pointed out. ‘D’you know what Duncan said when he heard Marianne was expecting? “Thank God it is not you!” What a thing for a man of his calling to say. It’s not up to God to stop His ministers putting a bun in their wives’ oven.’ She looked pensive for a moment, then gave a little giggle. ‘There’s such a lot of begetting in the Bible, it seems to me He encourages conception, immaculate or otherwise.’
The House of Lyall Page 15