Beyond Reason

by Gwen Kirkwood

  ‘Surely she must know? She can’t still be innocent after seeing Mrs Foster producing a babe every year.’

  ‘I only know about the nature o’ women and I’m worried about the lassie. If you’re going to persuade her to refuse Mr Saunders’s offer, when you canna offer her anything yourself, then you’d be better not to see her. At least that way she’ll reach her own decision.’

  Fingal’s mouth tightened. He longed to see Janet, to tell her he loved her, to ask her to wait for him, but that would make him as selfish and single-minded as Mrs Scott had been over Andrew. His mother was a wise woman and she had a great affection for Janet.

  He didn’t sleep much that night. At dawn, he rose and lit the fire and cut himself a thick slice of bread while he waited for the kettle to boil, then he wrote a note for his mother.

  ‘It is against my will but I am taking your advice, Mother. I am leaving now because I cannot see Janet without trying to persuade her not to marry Mr Saunders and I know he can give her everything she and her mother need right now. I cannot go to kirk today and not speak with her, so it is better if I leave now. I may not return for some time. I have had an offer to continue my apprenticeship in Edinburgh with more opportunities. I intended to refuse it but I shall consider it now as I feel there will be little to keep me here unless you need me. If you do, please send a letter with Donald to my lodgings in Annan.’

  Fingal’s heart was heavy as he saddled his horse and rode away.

  Janet had waited all week to discuss her situation with Fingal and she was bitterly disappointed when she did not see him. Maggie McLauchlan’s heart quailed when she saw her disappointment and the unhappiness in her clear gaze. She had already made Fingal unhappy. Perhaps she should not have interfered, but she trusted Josiah Saunders to act in the best interests of those around him, not least to relieve Mr Cole from the burden of Mary Scott. She prayed she had acted wisely.

  Chapter Eleven

  At Josiah’s request, the Reverend Drummond arranged a discreet morning marriage service, in the village church which Janet had attended all her life.

  ‘I agree, it may give the lassie comfort to receive a blessing,’ the minister said.

  Doctor Carr declared he was privileged to give away the bride and, with his usual consideration, Josiah asked Peggy Baird to attend Janet. Peggy’s loving kindness proved a great support to Janet. Afterwards, they returned to Crillion Keep where Maggie had prepared an excellent meal.

  Dr Carr and the Reverend Drummond joined them, as well as Peggy and Donald Baird. The meal was over and the minister was thanking God for the food and asking His blessing on the newly married couple, when Mr Cole drove up as close as he could get to the front steps of Crillion Keep.

  ‘He has brought your mother to stay with us, as I promised, my dear,’ Josiah said. The look of gratitude in his young wife’s eyes was all the thanks Josiah needed. Janet flew outside and embraced her mother with joy, but Mary seemed barely aware of her, or that she had come to live at Crillion Keep. Janet was dismayed at her haggard face and thin body.

  Maggie and Peggy were equally shocked at Mary’s appearance. She was a ghost of the brisk and capable young woman they had known. She had to pause twice for breath while climbing the five steps to the door, aided by the stone balustrade and Mr Cole. Janet felt like weeping, even though Josiah had warned her of her mother’s frailty, but even he was shocked. He agreed with Mr Cole that Mary Scott would not be with them long and he was doubly glad he had brought her here. At least he had given Janet a little time with her mother but he guessed Mary Scott craved nothing more than to join her husband and her son. She had barely acknowledged Janet, and he saw the tears mist her lovely eyes before she turned quickly away. His heart ached for her.

  He had already asked Mrs Mossy and Lizzy Semple to prepare the room adjoining Janet’s. If they thought this a strange arrangement for a new bride, they did not comment. Only Maggie knew of Mr Saunders’s promise to Janet and she was relieved that he intended to keep it, at least for now. Josiah sent for young Mark Wright to help Donald carry Mary up to the bedroom. When Janet had seen her settled into bed as obediently as a child she returned to Josiah’s side.

  ‘My mother really is dying, isn’t she?’ she asked in a croaky whisper, doing her best to hold back tears.

  ‘I’m afraid so, my dear, but don’t be upset, we are—’

  ‘But she should not be your burden.’

  ‘She will not be a burden. This is your home now and she is with you, and the people who have always been her friends. We shall all help.’ His expression was grave.

  ‘How can I ever thank you? You have done so much and I can never repay you.’

  ‘My dear Janet, you are my wife now.’

  ‘But I do not deserve your kindness and generosity,’ Janet said.

  ‘You will more than repay me with your companionship, especially if you help me with my library. Peggy Baird will help you nurse your mother if you need her. One day you will find a way to repay kindness, not necessarily to me, but there are always others who need help and I know you will give it.’

  During her first two days at Crillion Keep, Mary Scott made an effort to rise and dress but it was clear to everyone that climbing the stairs back to her room was like climbing a mountain. Josiah suggested Janet should take her meals to her room on a tray to conserve her strength. Mary thanked him and proffered a gentle smile but Janet knew that keeping to her room was the beginning of the end for her mother. Peggy tried to comfort her.

  ‘Doctor Carr says she is tired and breathless, because her blood is thin,’ she said. ‘Mr Saunders suggests we should feed her calf’s liver and the best beef.’

  ‘She has no appetite for food, even though your mother has prepared it with such care,’ Janet said, struggling to hold back her tears.

  ‘At least she is warm and comfortable. She is not in pain and she is among friends. We must be thankful Mr Saunders is a true Christian.’

  ‘I don’t know how I can ever repay him,’ Janet said.

  ‘You are repaying him by agreeing to be his wife. You love books and learning as much as he does. He read to you while you were ill. Your eagerness to learn has given him a new interest in life. In fact, you have brought a ray of hope and sunshine to all of us, lassie.’

  Surprisingly, the days stretched into weeks and then months. Mary Scott had days when she was more alert and cheerful and she talked to Janet of the past, of her own girlhood and of Janet’s father and her love for him. Sometimes, Janet read to her from the book of poems which Fingal had bought, or from The Cottage Fireside and other books Josiah recommended from his collections.

  When Mrs Ross paid a visit, supposedly to see if her brother was in good health, Josiah was surprised to find she had not heard the news of his marriage but he saw no reason to enlighten her. She stayed to lunch but he did not encourage her to linger once the horses were rested enough for the return journey. Janet avoided her by taking her meal with her mother in her room, sitting before the window so they could look out on the fine summer’s day and watch the birds darting in and out of the trees and bushes in the garden below, and see the ripening corn in the fields beyond. Everyone was praying for a good harvest; several bad ones had driven the poorer people in the parish to the verge of starvation.

  As the time passed, Janet herself regained her former healthy colour and rounded figure and the natural rhythms of her body returned to normal. Maggie MacLauchlan had never been so relieved as she was to see the blood-stained cloths soaking in the laundry.

  ‘Of course I knew she could not be having a bairn after all this time,’ she said to Peggy. ‘But I’m glad she has returned to normal.’

  ‘I’m pleased to see her filling out,’ Peggy said. ‘She was like a living skeleton after the fever. I expect nature has its own way of healing.’

  ‘We still don’t know whether Foster had his way with her. She must have been badly frightened to risk dying in the snow rather than staying at B
raeheights.’

  ‘We’ll just be thankful she is in a safe place now,’ Peggy said firmly. She would have liked to add ‘and happy’ but she sensed Janet was not completely happy and she suspected her brother Fingal was the reason. He had moved back to Edinburgh. It was a long journey to come home, but she had expected he would have returned for a visit by now.

  Towards the end of September, Mary Scott seemed more like the mother Janet remembered. She even asked if Josiah would come up and spend a little time with her. Josiah rarely ascended the stairs but in spite of his racing heart he made the effort and spent an hour in conversation with Mary. He was smiling when he descended the stairs again and Janet met him in the hall.

  ‘Mama is so bright today, isn’t she?’ she asked, her eyes shining. ‘Perhaps God has answered my prayers after all and she is getting well again.’

  ‘We can only hope so, my dear. Whatever happens, she is very proud of you. One day she hopes you will be able to teach girls to read and write as she would have liked to do herself. I believe she did work as a pupil teacher and help teach the younger children before she married. She told me what a happy household it was then.’

  ‘It was happy when Andrew and Fingal were there too. I shared their adventures and they helped me with my lessons.’ Janet sighed. ‘Fingal must enjoy life in the city now.’

  ‘He must live where his work is.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Janet nodded. ‘Mrs McLauchlan had a letter telling her that he sometimes travels to other towns now, dealing with clients for his employer.’

  ‘That means they trust him and they know he has the knowledge and initiative to deal with problems on his own. He is doing well. We should be proud of him.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Janet said.

  The following morning, Janet’s spirits rose. There was a hint of frost in the air but the day promised to be fine and sunny again. She washed in the basin of cold water and dressed quickly before hurrying into her mother’s room, hoping she was in the same lively spirits as the previous day. She might even be persuaded to venture downstairs for an hour.

  Mary Scott had slipped away during the night, and Janet found her with a small smile tilting the corners of her mouth and a hand outstretched as though in greeting, but it was not to anyone in this world. Janet couldn’t believe it. She ran from the room and downstairs, tears streaming down her face as she tried to stifle the sobs which rose in her throat. Josiah was on his way in to breakfast and she ran into his arms and sobbed as though her heart would break. Maggie McLauchlan came from the kitchens carrying a hot, covered dish for breakfast. Over Janet’s head he nodded in response to her questioning eyes.

  Janet didn’t expect many people would attend her mother’s funeral and she protested at the amount of food Josiah instructed Maggie McLauchlan to prepare. She felt lost and alone without her mother needing her attention, so she was glad to stay in the warmth of the kitchen and bake apple pies and girdle cakes.

  ‘Hannah Foster taught you well, lassie,’ Maggie McLauchlan said with approval.

  ‘I can’t believe anyone will come to eat all the food we are preparing.’

  ‘I’m obeying Mr Saunders’s orders. He has arranged everything with the minister.’

  ‘But the minister does not think people should spend precious savings on a wake. My mother told me some people feel it is their duty to the dead, but the Reverend Drummond says their duty is to feed the families rather than see them starve afterwards.’

  ‘It is true the poor people of the parish have more need of food themselves than many of those who attend the funeral and eat their precious provisions. That is one of the reasons he encourages us all to save what little we can in his savings bank. He says it will not make any difference to the way God takes our loved ones into His kingdom but many people think they must hold a wake as one last sacrifice for their loved ones.’

  ‘My mother and I have no money for a wake,’ Janet protested.

  ‘It is what Mr Saunders wants and he is your husband and master now. He is trying to be kind for your sake, Janet.’

  Maggie did not tell her Mr Saunders had written to Fingal and despatched Donald to catch the mail coach at the inn when it travelled along the north road. They were not sure he would receive the letter in time, or be free to come, but Maggie was sure he would try.

  Janet was overwhelmed by the number of people who came to pay their last respects but she knew at least two had an ulterior motive when she saw Mrs Ross and her son Henry glowering at her. She gave an involuntary shudder. She wondered why Mr Ross never accompanied them. Then she caught sight of Fingal. In spite of her grief, her heart lightened and she smiled at him. In that moment Fingal knew it had been worth the haste and the overnight journey in the mail coach. The irony was, he could afford to rent a house now as well as keep a wife. He was doing well since his move back to the city but Mary Scott had lasted longer than anyone had anticipated and he would have been deeply in debt if he had been responsible for keeping her and Janet, even if they could have made the journey to Edinburgh. He sighed. Janet was beautiful.

  Josiah was pleased Fingal had come, even though he had guessed the reason for his long absence. When the men returned from the graveside and assembled at Crillion Keep for the refreshments, he sought him out.

  ‘I hope you will stay a while, Fingal, although I know your mother will be looking forward to some time with you too. Until people leave I should be grateful if you would stay close to Janet if others demand my attention. Mrs Ross has a vicious tongue. Although Janet appears calm, I know her control is fragile, her grief thinly veiled. She is young and needs our protection. Henry is sly and as spiteful as his mother.’

  Fingal watched Janet move quietly amongst people, thanking those she knew for their attendance. Clad from head to toe in a black dress, black veiled hat and gloves, the pallor of her fine features was emphasized but he was pleased to see her thick chestnut curls had resumed their lustre and were trying hard to spring free from her hat. He remembered how they had danced down her back when she was a girl, chasing him and Andrew. People had begun to depart and the dining room was emptying now. Across the room, Doctor Carr waylaid Mr Saunders. Fingal watched Mrs Ross head for Janet but there was nothing she could do to avoid the woman, unless she scampered for the kitchens like a rabbit down a hole. Even then, Fingal guessed Mrs Ross would have followed for she had a determined set to her thin mouth and her narrow eyes glittered with venom. Unobtrusively he moved closer.

  ‘Well Miss you’ve had more than your money’s worth out of my brother, you and your pathetic mother,’ she sneered. ‘There is no reason for you to stay any longer. It’s time to pack your bags and get out of here.’

  Both Fingal and Janet looked up sharply and he heard Janet’s indrawn breath, but behind Mrs Ross, the Reverend Drummond gave a wry smile and a small shake of his head as he laid a finger over his lips. Janet’s eyes widened. Fingal saw her wring her hands together, feeling the thin gold band of her wedding ring beneath her black silk glove. She looked up again at the minister saw him close one eye in a deliberate wink. Fingal wanted to laugh out loud. It seemed the parish grapevine had been more lax than he would have believed when Mrs Ross had not heard her brother and Janet were married. He watched as Janet chewed her lip and cleared her throat.

  ‘Mr Saunders has been very kind to my mother and myself and I shall always be grateful for the months we have been able to spend together. I owe him a great debt, which I can never repay. You can be sure I shall do whatever he asks of me, Ma’am.’ Janet’s voice was soft but her tone was firm. The minister gave a nod of satisfaction before he turned away to join the good doctor and Josiah, but Eliza Ross snorted in derision.

  ‘I’m telling you what is best for him, whether he knows it or not. It’s time to pack your bags and get out.’ She eyed Janet’s slender figure in her black dress and her eyes narrowed again. ‘You have done well enough out of him. No doubt he paid for the dress you are wearing. Now go and—’<
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  ‘Indeed I did, Eliza. As I have told you many times I give trade to the local tradesmen whenever possible. You will not find a better tailor than Mr Cole if you travel the length and breadth of the country, as you seem to do. Charity begins at home.’

  ‘Then it is time you remembered that, dear brother. Henry could use a monthly allowance. You are his uncle, after all.’

  ‘He has a father to provide for him. Many young men are not so fortunate and have to make their own way in the world.’

  ‘You’re nothing but a miserly sinner! You—’

  ‘I try not to be either miserly or a sinner,’ Josiah said evenly. ‘Now I think it is time you were leaving if you wish to be home before dark. The days are getting shorter now.’

  Janet stepped back and collided with Fingal. He steadied her and gripped her elbow, guiding her away into the hall and then into the library.

  ‘Out of sight out of mind,’ he said with his old smile. ‘I gather Mrs Ross has not heard you are now Mrs Saunders.’

  ‘Apparently not. The last time she was here Josiah did not encourage her to stay long. I stayed out of her way.’

  ‘I should think even the angels would quarrel with a woman like that,’ Fingal said. ‘I have not had an opportunity to talk with my mother yet. I travelled down on the mail coach overnight. Tell me, Janet, did your mother suffer any pain?’

  ‘No, she died in her sleep. She had been so much brighter the day before. I-I thought she was getting better. It was a shock.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Everyone has been so kind, Fingal. Doctor Carr said she could never have recovered. He has seen people like Mama before. He says it is not due to grief, but something takes away all the goodness from their blood. Her skin was like thin white parchment.’

  ‘But she did not have the coughing as Andrew did, Janet?’ Fingal asked anxiously.

  ‘No. All she wanted was to sleep.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I should not have gone away as I did without talking to you, but I could not wish you well when you were marrying another man. It was selfish of me when I had nothing to offer.’