Cauldstane

by Gillard, Linda

  ‘Och, no, you’ll come and have your lunch,’ Alec said, taking my arm. ‘Ferg is probably ranting about estate business. It gets him down sometimes.’

  Still unsure, I followed Alec’s lead. As we reached the door of the dining room he was almost knocked down by Fergus who burst out of the dining room, his face flushed. But Alec side-stepped neatly, avoiding a collision.

  ‘Whoaa… What’s up, Ferg?’

  Fergus glanced across at me, then looked down at the carpet. He plunged his hands into his jacket pockets, clearly trying to compose himself. I wanted to make myself scarce in the dining room, but the two men were in the way, so I just stood feeling awkward.

  Eventually Fergus managed to speak. ‘She said no.’

  Alec looked puzzled. ‘Who said no?’

  ‘Rachel.’

  Alec’s face lit up and he thumped his brother on the back. ‘So you finally asked her to—’

  ‘She said no, Alec.’

  His brother’s face fell. ‘But… why?’

  Fergus looked at me again and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. ‘Zelda will explain,’ he said turning back to Alec, then he swept past us, calling out over his shoulder, ‘Look at the Courier. Page six.’ He disappeared and shortly afterwards we heard the back door slam.

  Alec bowed his head and exhaled. Not for the first time I sensed frustration of some kind. It was impossible to ignore the coiled energy in him that I suspected he sometimes struggled to keep in check. But he looked up, shook his head with a little smile, as if to assure me Fergus would be all right, then opened the dining room door for me.

  The sight that met us wasn’t encouraging. Zelda sat at the table, her head in her hands, the remains of her lunch in front of her. To judge from what was left on her plate, she hadn’t eaten much. She looked up and attempted to muster a smile.

  ‘There you are! We’d given you two up for lost. Have you both had a good morning?’

  Ignoring her, Alec strode to the end of the table and picked up a newspaper. He opened it and leafed through until he found what he was looking for. Zelda gave up all pretension to social niceties and announced gloomily, ‘Rachel turned Fergus down. He proposed, she said she’d think about it, then the Courier did its worst.’ Alec swore quietly. ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Zelda said, pushing her plate away. ‘Jenny, I must apologise for all the drama, but the news has been a blow to poor Fergus. To all of us. Though by now we should be used to this sort of thing, I suppose.’

  ‘I take it Fergus proposed to his girlfriend?’

  ‘Aye, he did. After much deliberation. A proposal of marriage is not something a MacNab makes lightly. You’ve heard about our curse, I take it?’

  ‘Yes. Sholto told me about it.’

  ‘Rachel knew of course.’ Zelda waved a bony and be-ringed hand. ‘Everyone knows! It’s not something you can hush up. The Cauldstane curse has been around for hundreds of years, but we try to play it down. Because of course it’s all nonsense!’

  When he’d finished reading, Alec folded the newspaper and handed it to me without speaking.

  I sat down at the table to read. The offending item appeared to be an article about Sholto and the headline read, The Curse of Cauldstane Castle. Sholto was referred to as “the literary laird” and the journalist had re-hashed old MacNab stories as a sort of trailer for the forthcoming memoirs. Unfortunately for Rachel, the journalist had chosen to illustrate the piece with photographs of three young women, all now deceased: Liz, Meredith and Coral MacNab. There were no quotes in the accompanying text about the curse, which led me to believe Sholto had probably declined to comment, but that hadn’t prevented the journalist dredging up the family’s tragic past for sensational effect. As I scanned the piece, it struck me it would be a brave woman – or one singularly lacking in imagination – who could accept a MacNab proposal with a light heart. I lay the newspaper aside, at a loss for words.

  ‘So Rachel read that and panicked?’ Alec said, looking at Zelda.

  ‘She said she loved Fergus very much, but didn’t feel she could take this final step.’

  ‘She surely doesn’t believe in this crap?’ Alec said angrily.

  ‘She claims she doesn’t. Though which of us knows what we really believe in our hearts? But Rachel said she wasn’t prepared to live her life as a sort of sideshow, knowing folk were waiting for her to die. Or prove barren. Or both.’ Zelda turned to me and explained. ‘Rachel’s a nursery teacher. She adores children. I imagine she’d be keen to start a family straight away.’

  ‘So she just said no?’

  ‘She gave him a sort of ultimatum, but she knew what he’d say. She knew Fergus would never leave Cauldstane. Not while Sholto was alive.’

  Alec looked as if he was about to explode. ‘What were her conditions?’

  ‘She said she’d marry him if they could leave Cauldstane. Leave Scotland, in fact. Rachel’s from New Zealand, Jenny. She wanted to go home. She wanted to start married life thousands of miles away from here.’

  Alec snorted with disgust. ‘And Fergus had to refuse because Sholto and I can’t manage the estate without him.’

  ‘Couldn’t Sholto find a replacement?’ I asked.

  ‘One who’d work for nothing?’ Alec snapped.

  Zelda glared at him. ‘That’s not fair, Alec. Fergus has a cosy wee house on the estate, the use of a Land Rover and pocket money.’

  ‘And he comes up here to eat with us to save himself money.’

  ‘You know as well as I do that if Fergus were to quit, Sholto would have to sell up or just watch the place fall into ruins. Either way, it would kill him.’

  ‘Could Fergus teach you how to run the estate, Alec?’

  ‘Oh, aye, he could. And I could do it, though not nearly as well as Ferg. He knows every inch of the estate, every tenant’s bairn and the names of their dogs. He’s a damn good manager. But I could take on that job. The trouble is, Jenny, the Cauldstane Armoury is a major source of income. We’d be robbing Peter to pay Paul. If anything, I should be training up an assistant now to cope with all the orders I can’t accept because I don’t have time to fulfil them.’

  Zelda shook her head. ‘Rachel must have known Fergus wouldn’t walk away. Not while Sholto was alive. But I suppose she hoped he might.’

  ‘Does Sholto know?’ I asked.

  ‘About the article? Of course!’ Alec snapped. ‘It’s obviously his doing.’

  ‘I meant, did he know about Fergus and Rachel? That they were serious.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he know?’

  ‘You forget, Alec,’ Zelda said patiently. ‘I know only because Rachel confided in me. Fergus didn’t breathe a word.’

  ‘I don’t think Sholto can have known,’ I said cautiously. ‘When he spoke to me about the curse, he made a particular point of saying he had no knowledge of his sons’ love lives. I don’t think he had any idea.’

  ‘Well, let’s keep it that way,’ said Zelda. ‘We had no idea Fergus was going to propose, so I think we should take our cue from him. If I know my nephew, he’ll want to keep the whole business quiet.’ Zelda got to her feet and, supporting herself on the table, she said, ‘There are days when I feel old and very tired. This is definitely one of them, so I think I’m going up to take a wee nap. I trust I’ll wake feeling more cheerful. Enjoy your lunch, Jenny. And make sure Alec eats something, won’t you?’

  Zelda picked up the offending newspaper and walked over to the door, her tall figure slightly bowed now. She dropped the paper into a waste paper basket, opened the door and shut it quietly behind her.

  I turned round and saw Alec was now standing at the window with his back to me. I poured myself a glass of water, then one for him.

  ‘Will you come and join me for some lunch? Wilma’s quiche looks delicious.’ He didn’t turn or speak, so I got up and went over to the sideboard where I helped myself to food, even though I wasn’t hungry. It gave me something to do. Serving myself some salad, I said, ‘Fergus can�
��t expect you to take on the running of the estate, Alec. It wouldn’t make any sense financially.’

  He was silent for a moment, then said, ‘The only thing that makes any sense financially is for us to sell up. Sell Cauldstane. Cut our losses and go.’

  ‘Do you ever think about that?’

  ‘All the time. So does Fergus. So does Sholto. But it would be quicker – and cleaner – to take the Cauldstane claymore and plunge it into my father’s heart.’ He turned, but didn’t meet my eyes. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Jenny,’ he said briskly, ‘I find I have no appetite. If she asks, tell Zelda I ate something.’

  Without waiting for an answer, he strode across the room and left me to enjoy a solitary lunch.

  ~

  The conversation in the dining room and the sight of Fergus’ unhappy face bothered me more than I cared to admit. I was beginning to get a sense of how much the MacNabs lived under a cloud, albeit an imaginary one. The restrictions of the men’s lives and those of the women they chose to love were beginning to seem almost tragic. The weight of family history (with which I’d been entranced at first) now seemed oppressive.

  I ate a sketchy lunch, then stood at the sideboard, making a doorstep cheese and pickle sandwich. I picked up the plate and headed for the armoury. It wasn’t until later that I remembered the old adage Rupert used to quote at me after one of my rare culinary triumphs: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

  ~

  I knocked on the door, but it sounded as if Alec was grinding a piece of metal, so I just walked in. He looked up, startled. I could have sworn that, for a second, he took up a defensive pose with his blade-in-progress, then his eyes travelled down to the plate I was carrying. He looked even more surprised.

  ‘You don’t have to eat it, but I’ve brought you a sandwich anyway. Cheese and pickle. Wilma’s wonderful cooking is clearly wasted on you.’

  He grinned and set down his blade. ‘You made that with your own fair hands?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry about the doorstep dimensions. As you can see, I’m not nearly as handy with a knife as you are.’

  He took the plate, wiped a grubby hand on the seat of his grubbier jeans and picked up the sandwich, which he proceeded to eat with relish. I stood and watched with something like maternal satisfaction.

  ‘D’you want to make tea?’ Alec mumbled, his mouth full of sandwich. He jerked his head towards the back of the workshop and swallowed. ‘If you’re not too fastidious, there’s a wee kitchenette at the back.’

  I headed to the back of the workshop where a small store room had been turned into a kitchen. The tiny fridge contained more beer than milk, but I managed to produce two mugs of tea. As I handed one to Alec – there was no sign of the sandwich now – he saved me the trouble of raising the topic I’d come to discuss with him.

  ‘Sorry about the wee stooshie with Fergus. I wouldn’t mention it to him, if I were you. If you need to talk about the curse – for the book, I mean – you’d best talk to me. Sholto will get upset and Ferg will get angry.’

  ‘And you won’t?’

  ‘I’ve accepted it. Accepted that something which doesn’t actually exist can still wreck your life. Fergus could have ignored it – MacNab men have to – but finding a woman who will…’ He shook his head. ‘I thought Rachel was made of sterner stuff. Her grandparents were Scots who emigrated to New Zealand. She comes from generations of farming stock. She’d have made a grand wife for Ferg. And nothing’s going to stop that lassie having bairns, if she has to steal them from prams.’

  ‘So you think it was just the article in the paper that did the damage?’

  ‘Aye, that and everyone’s reaction to it. Her friends. Colleagues at work. That’ll be why she wants to go back home. To get away from our history.’

  ‘Since Fergus wants to sell up anyway, I don’t really understand why he doesn’t just up sticks and head for the Antipodes. He must have lots of skills that could form the basis of a new career.’

  ‘It’s not that simple. Fergus doesn’t want to sell, he thinks we have no choice but to sell. He wants to deliver the coup de grâce to Cauldstane. Sholto and I are prepared to witness its agonizingly slow death. But one of the reasons I won’t consider pressurizing Sholto to sell – apart from the fact he’d knock me down if I did – is that Cauldstane is as much Ferg’s inheritance as mine. He’s worked for it. And if anything happens to me, he’s the heir.’

  ‘What could happen to you?’ Alec looked up sharply as if I’d touched a nerve. Backtracking, I said, ‘I mean, you look fit as a flea, despite your reluctance to eat.’ He said nothing. ‘I suppose your job is quite dangerous, isn’t it? And those tournaments must be. But you haven’t sustained an injury for years now, have you?’

  He raised an eyebrow and I saw the suggestion of a smile at the corners of his mouth. ‘You’ve been researching me?’

  I’m embarrassed to admit I probably blushed. I had indeed spent more time googling Alec (and pictures of Alec) than was strictly necessary for researching a book about Sholto, but I recovered quickly and, I hope, confidently. ‘Just as background. I need to see the bigger picture. And readers are going to love the idea of Sholto producing a son as fearless as himself.’

  ‘Is that what you think I am? Fearless?’

  An unaccountable shiver went down my spine, then I remembered those were the very words Sholto had said when I’d referred to his reckless courage. ‘Have I got that wrong, then?’

  Alec looked at me warily, but I sensed he wanted to talk. ‘It has as much to do with fear as courage. But there’s passion as well. A passion for history. For the art of making a beautiful blade.’

  ‘But you don’t deny what you do is dangerous?’

  ‘Driving a car is dangerous. Look what happened to Meredith. Fergus could end up Laird of Cauldstane courtesy of black ice on the A9. Sholto was a younger son who didn’t expect to inherit. But Fergus is ready, should the need arise and since I’m unlikely now to produce an heir, Cauldstane could end up in the hands of his family. If we don’t sell up.’

  ‘You wouldn’t consider marrying again?’

  ‘You heard what Rachel said. And a similar thing happened to me a year or so ago. I thought I might be heading towards another long-term relationship, but as soon as she found out about the curse and what happened to Coral… and Meredith… and my mother…’ Alec’s sigh was weary. ‘Ferg is younger. He’s thirty-eight and he’s never been married, never even lived with a girlfriend. He wants to give it a go. And he should! A future Laird of Cauldstane could be a nephew of mine, yet unborn.’

  ‘It’s so sad you’ve given up hoping things will work out for you. You seriously underestimate women if you think all of them are as superstitious as Rachel.’

  He looked at me then, his grey eyes dark and unfathomable. It was a long, incomprehensible look that sent another shiver down my spine. I thought he was about to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind. Eventually he shook his head and said, ‘It’s not that simple, Jenny. There are other factors… I hold myself responsible for what happened to Coral.’ There was now a steely glint in his eye. ‘And that’s not going to happen to anyone else.’

  ‘But, Alec, you don’t know what happened to Coral. Not for certain.’

  ‘No, I don’t. But I saw what happened to her before she died. What happened to her mind. The curse doesn’t have to be real for it to do real harm, Jenny. Look at Ferg and Rachel!’

  I had to acknowledge the truth of this depressing statement. ‘So you’re saying your life now is just some kind of… damage limitation exercise?’

  He nodded. ‘Aye, that’s exactly what it is. I see it as my job to make sure no one else comes to any harm through their association with the MacNabs. Now if you’ll excuse me, Jenny – I’ve spent too much time today enjoying your company. I have orders to fulfil.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I should get back to work too. Thanks for explaining things to me. I do appreciate it.’

  He
gave me a curt nod, lowered his safety glasses and turned back to the grinding wheel. As I lifted the catch on the door, he called out, ‘Jenny?’ I spun round, but Alec still faced the wheel. ‘What you see as courage is in fact the opposite. Sholto put his life on the line time and again because he’s terrified of death. Of becoming… nothing. That’s partly what this book is about for him. A bid for immortality. And this…’ Alec turned slowly and raised the unfinished blade. ‘This is about fear, not courage.’

  I didn’t reply for a moment, then feeling quite stupid, I said, ‘I’m sorry, Alec, I don’t understand.’

  His smile was slow and sad. ‘Aye, I know. How could you? I’m just blethering on. Take no notice.’ He turned back to the wheel. ‘I really should get out more.’

  ‘I would like to understand. Really, I would.’

  He stood quite still with his back to me. There was nothing for me to do but stare at the way his damp hair curled at the back of his neck and his shoulder blades shifted as he raised the unfinished sword to the grinding wheel. I’d already turned away when he spoke again.

  ‘If you ever need to understand, I promise I’ll explain. But I trust there’ll be no need.’

  He flipped a switch and the noise of the machine made any further conversation impossible, so I left.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I was in no mood for work after my conversation with Alec, so I headed back to my room where I lay down on the bed feeling tired and confused. I was concerned about the MacNab brothers and their blighted lives, but I knew that wasn’t the only reason for my confusion. Another was Alec.

  I enjoyed spending time with him. I found him intriguing in his quiet, understated way. We’d come a long way since the awkwardness of our first meeting outside my room and I’d been quite wrong about him being hostile to Sholto’s project. Alec was supportive of my work and clearly wanted to help in any way he could. In fact I thought he was enjoying spending time with me.

  There was surely nothing more to it than that. Just good manners. Weren’t Highlanders famed for their good manners and legendary hospitality? But holding my hand as I downed his whisky and talked about my breakdown?... No doubt I was making something out of nothing. That in itself gave me cause for concern. It was all too easy to get involved with your subject and their family. Up to a point you had to become family, but you also had to keep a professional distance. Apart from anything else, I was working to a deadline and didn’t have time for a relationship. In any case, various hints had been dropped about Alec’s emotional fragility. Someone with a history of instability was the last person I should think of getting involved with.