“So do I,” Mrs. Corder said. “I have always wanted a daughter like you.”
Because she felt that she was going to be sentimental, Mrs. Corder turned to the porter. She told him sharply to take her luggage to the carriage that would be waiting for her in the Glasgow train.
She put up her hand once again to Jacoba.
“Goodbye, my dear,” she said, “and God bless you!”
She walked away without looking back.
When she was out of sight, Jacoba closed the window and sat down in the empty compartment.
‘Because everybody has been so kind,’ she murmured to herself, ‘I no longer feel so afraid.’
CHAPTER FOUR
It was six o’clock when the train left Edinburgh.
An hour or so later Jacoba thought that she would have something to eat.
When she opened her hamper, however, she found to her dismay that there was far less than she had thought in it.
She had very stupidly not thought of stocking it up again when she was in the restaurant.
She ate the little pieces of pâté and ham that remained, but what was left of the chicken had dried up. There was no coffee in the thermos and she was sure that she would be thirsty by the end of the day.
She was fascinated by the beauty she saw as the train proceeded on its way.
She had her first view of lochs, rivers, which she thought must be full of salmon, and moors.
It was just what she expected Scotland to look like and, as the hours passed, she sat at the window enthralled.
When they reached Crianlarich, her carriage door was unlocked by the guard to admit an elderly lady who walked with two sticks and with her was a woman who Jacoba felt must be her companion.
For the next two hours she watched as the companion fussed over the older lady.
She put a cushion behind her back, fetched her a clean handkerchief out of her bag and talked to her in a low voice.
‘I suppose those are the sort of things I shall have to do,’ Jacoba thought.
She wondered if it would be very different looking after a man rather than a woman.
On and on the train went.
Finally the old lady and her companion alighted at a stop and Jacoba took the opportunity to ask the guard how much longer it was to Inverglen.
“We’re a runnin’ a wee bit late, miss,” the guard replied. “But I think it’ll be aboot midday.”
Jacoba’s heart sank.
She was about to ask him if there was anywhere she could buy some food, but he hurried away to start the train moving again.
He was out of earshot before she could speak and it was half an hour before they reached the next station.
She opened the window and looked out eagerly to see if there was a restaurant of any sort.
It was, however, a small station and she was sure that there would be no food in the one small building where the passengers bought their tickets.
It was just past midday when the train pulled up at Inverglen Station.
Jacoba climbed out eagerly.
There was no one on the platform but an old porter who collected her trunks from the guard’s van.
As the train moved on again and Jacoba said,
“I am on my way to Murdock Castle. Is there a carriage which can convey me there?”
“Murdock Castle!” the old porter replied. “Now that’s a long way awa!”
“H-how long?” Jacoba asked.
“Two hours or more,” the porter replied.
“Then I certainly cannot walk it!” Jacoba remarked trying to speak lightly.
At the same time, she was wondering desperately what she should do if there was no conveyance to take her there
She thought that it had been stupid of her not to ask Mr. McMurdock if there would be a carriage to meet her at Inverglen Station.
Because she had travelled so little, she had somehow expected that at every station there would be cabs for hire.
The old porter put her trunks down on the platform.
“There’s a man in the village,” he said, “who has a carriage he hires out for funerals and suchlike. I’ll ask him if he’ll take you to The Castle.”
“That would be very kind of you,” Jacoba replied. “Is there somewhere I can wait?”
“You can use my office,” the porter offered. “There’s a wee fire burnin’ in the grate that’ll keep you warm.”
“Thank you very much,” Jacoba answered.
She realised as she spoke that it was much colder now than it had been in Edinburgh.
The old porter, who she found was also the Station Master, showed her into his office.
It was very small and stacked with miscellaneous boxes and parcels which were either awaiting collection or ready to put aboard a train.
There was no comfortable chair so he took the one that was placed near the ticket window.
He put it in front of the fire on which there were only a few pieces of peat burning.
“I’ll no be long,” he said, “but don’t worry yourself. There’ll be no more trains for the next three hours.”
He walked away as he spoke and Jacoba sat down and held out her hands to the fire.
She felt it was a rather dismal welcome to Scotland and she wondered why Mr. McMurdock had not asked the Earl to send a carriage to meet her.
She was beginning to feel acutely hungry and thirsty.
On inspection she found that there was a tap just outside on the platform.
Hoping that the porter would not come back and discover what she was doing, she borrowed a glass from his office.
Washing it out, she filled it with water from the tap and drank it gratefully.
It was slightly brown which she guessed was from the peat and, after her thirst was quenched, she went back to sit in front of the fire again.
She thought that by the time she reached The Castle she was going to be very hungry indeed.
It was nearly an hour later that the porter returned.
“I’ve had a word with Mr. McDonald,” he said, “and he’ll take you, though mind you, I had a hard time persuadin’ him that you couldna sit in my office all night.”
“I am very grateful,” Jacoba said. “It is very important that I should get to The Castle.”
“The Laird’s expectin’ you?” the porter asked.
It took her a moment to realise that ‘the Laird’ referred to the Earl.
“Yes, he is,” she replied.
She thought that the porter looked surprised, but he said nothing and merely put another piece of peat onto the fire.
It certainly warmed the room.
Jacoba was, however, wondering whether she had time to unpack one of her trunks and take out her overcoat.
Then at last the porter, who had been moving some milk churns onto the platform, came in to say,
“There’s McDonald the noo, comin’ up the glen! He’s a dour man, but sure enough he’ll get you there.”
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Jacoba said.
When the carriage came to a standstill, she saw that it was very old and the hood was split in several places. However, the horse pulling it was sturdy.
A middle-aged man got down from the box and he certainly, as the porter had said, looked ‘dour’.
Jacoba thought that he glared at her before he said,
“It be a long way to go and it’ll cost you three pounds to go there and two pounds to come back.”
Jacoba stared at him in consternation.
It seemed an enormous sum to her.
She was about to protest when she remembered that Mr. McMurdock had given her five pounds for the journey and she had spent none of it.
“I will pay it to you, Mr. McDonald,” she said, “and thank you for taking me.”
He did not move, but stood with the palm of his hand held out.
She opened her handbag, took the five pound note from her purse and gave it to him.
He di
d not thank her, but turned away, picked up her trunks and put them onto the front of the carriage.
Jacoba thanked the porter again for his kindness.
Then, getting into the carriage, she sat down on the back seat, which was not very comfortable. As soon as they started off, she realised that the carriage was badly sprung.
The road was certainly rough, but the horse set off at a good pace.
Then, when they had been driving for some time, they began climbing uphill, then down again.
Either way it was impossible to move very quickly, as the carriage bumped over large stones or sank into holes in the roadway.
Jacoba was swung backwards and forwards until she began to feel sick.
It was certainly very exhausting.
Finally she saw, still a long way ahead of them, a large castle.
It certainly looked magnificent with its towers rising above the trees.
She thought it was beautiful, but she was too exhausted to be in any way enthusiastic and was only thankful that her journey had nearly come to an end.
She wondered if she would be expected to start her duties as soon as she arrived.
If they did, she hoped that they would first give her something to eat.
‘I shall feel better when I am no longer so hungry,’ she told herself optimistically.
At the same time, her head was aching and she wanted more than anything else to be able to lie down and go to sleep.
‘I must not think of myself,’ she thought. ‘If his Lordship requires my services, then I must be ready to do anything that is asked of me.’
As they drew nearer to The Castle, she could see that it was a very fine building and far bigger than she had expected.
There was the sea on the far side of it and she thought, as they drew nearer still, that there was a river flowing not far beneath it.
She reckoned that there would be salmon in it and the moorland stretched away into the distance.
‘It is very very beautiful!’ she told herself consolingly.
Then she gave a little cry as the carriage lurched again, the wheels bumping over some hard rocks in the road.
At last they were moving up a drive that was smooth and the horse, which had been moving very slowly, now increased its pace.
Quickly Jacoba tidied her hair, put her hat straight and hoped that she did not look too battered after such a rough drive.
They drew up outside the front entrance, which was very impressive with a high portico.
Mr. McDonald climbed down from the box and started to pull the trunks off the carriage and onto the ground.
He had not bothered to knock on the door and, as Jacoba stepped down from the carriage, she thought that was what she must do.
The silver knocker was large and heavy and she had to exert all her strength to raise it and knock two or three times.
Mr. McDonald had put her trunks one on top of the other.
He was now, to Jacoba’s surprise, climbing back into the driving seat.
She thought that he might at least have waited until she had been received inside.
Before he moved off she called out,
“Thank you for bringing me here!”
“I’ve to be back ’ome afore it gits dark,” he said gruffly and drove off.
Jacoba turned towards the door.
She was just thinking of knocking again when to her relief she heard footsteps and a moment later the door was opened.
A young man stood there who she thought must be a footman. He was wearing a kilt and a jacket cut in the Scottish fashion.
He did not speak, but stared at her until Jacoba said,
“I am Miss Ford and you are expecting me.”
The footman still stared at her and said with a broad Scottish accent,
“I think you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Surely this is Murdock Castle?” Jacoba said, “and I have an appointment with the Earl of Kilmurdock.”
She opened her handbag as she spoke and drew out the letter that Hamish McMurdock had given her.
The footman stared at it, but she had the idea that he could not read.
“Will you kindly take me to his Lordship,” Jacoba insisted, thinking that he was rather stupid, “and my luggage is outside.”
The footman turned to look at it and then, without closing the door, walked ahead of her.
Jacoba thought that she was expected to follow him and she therefore did so without speaking.
They passed through the large hall at the end of which was a wide stone staircase twisting upwards.
The footman still went ahead and Jacoba, somewhat awed by the size and grandeur around her, followed him up the stairs.
She remembered as she did so that somebody had told her that in Scotland the best rooms in the great houses were all on the first floor.
It was certainly a magnificent landing with paintings on the walls and a huge fireplace with a stag’s head over it.
The footman did not open the door immediately on their left but went on a little way down a wide corridor.
Ahead were some double doors and Jacoba had the idea that he hesitated before opening one of them.
Then, as he did so, and Jacoba walked past him into the room he announced,
“A lady to see you, my Lord.”
Jacoba now found herself in a room where the walls were all lined with books and there were two high windows with a large fireplace at one end.
Sitting in a chair in front of it and reading a newspaper was, she could see, a man.
It was certainly not the Earl because he was young with dark hair. He was wearing a kilt of the same tartan as the footman.
His sporran was an impressive-looking one, Jacoba was thinking, as she heard the door close behind her.
As the man at the other end of the room just stared at her, she moved forward a few steps to say a little nervously,
“I-I just have – arrived – and I am sorry if I am – a little late.”
Slowly the man in the chair rose to his feet.
Two spaniels, who had been lying on the hearth rug in front of the fire, jumped up too.
They stood, Jacoba thought, staring at her in the same extraordinary way as the man was.
“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked harshly.
As he raised his voice, it took her by surprise.
He sounded aggressive and it was a second or two before she answered,
“I-I have come to – look after the Earl – as was arranged.”
“What do you mean – arranged?” the man asked, “And what is your business?”
He spoke so rudely that Jacoba felt frightened,
“I-I think it would be – best for me to – see the Earl himself. I have a – letter for him.”
She held out the envelope that Hamish McMurdock had given her.
They were still standing some distance apart from each other and she thought that there was an ominous silence before he demanded,
“Give it to me!”
“I-I was instructed to give it – to the – Earl of Kilmurdock,” Jacoba said faintly.
“I am the Earl of Kilmurdock!”
“But – but that’s – impossible!” she answered. “I was told that he was – old – and needed a companion to – look after him.”
It flashed through her mind that perhaps the Earl had died and this unpleasant and rude young man had taken his place.
He held out his hand.
“Give it to me!” he said again harshly.
Because she felt it was impossible to disobey him, Jacoba moved forward a few steps and held out the letter at arms’ length.
He seemed almost to snatch it from her.
Opening the envelope he pulled out the letter inside and read it with a scowl on his face.
As she watched him, Jacoba was beginning to feel very apprehensive.
At the same time, because she had been so thrown about in the carriage and was also very
hungry, she felt as if the floor was rocking beneath her feet.
The Earl read the letter that Hamish had sent to him.
Then he tore it into pieces and threw it into the fire and turned round.
“Get out!” he ordered. “Get out of my house and don’t let me see you or hear of you again!”
He shouted the words at her and the tone of his voice was even more intimidating than what he said.
“I-I don’t – understand – ” she tried to answer.
He put out his hand and pointed his finger at her saying,
“Get out, and, if you don’t do so, I will have you thrown out!”
He spoke so furiously and his gesture was so menacing that, as if they had been given an order, the dogs rushed at Jacoba.
One of the spaniels sprang at her snarling.
She gave a little scream, tried to turn, then she slipped and fell.
As she did so, she felt a violent pain in her ankle as the other dog bit her.
A darkness seemed to come up from the ground and she knew no more.
*
Jacoba came back to consciousness, aware that somebody was feeling her ankle.
Though the touch was gentle it hurt and she groaned.
“It’s all right,” a quiet voice said. “It is not a very deep bite.”
Jacoba opened her eyes.
She was aware that she was lying on a bed and that there was a canopy overhead.
A man was bandaging her ankle and her foot was bare.
Her head seemed as if it was filled with cotton wool.
It took her a few minutes to realise that she was still dressed in the clothes she had arrived in.
Somebody must have removed her stocking for a bandage was being put round her bare ankle.
“The – dog – bit me,” she stammered slowly.
“He must have thought he had a reason to do so,” the man said dryly. “They are very gentle, spaniels, as a rule.”
He looked at Jacoba’s frightened face and added,
“You fainted, partly I suspect because you were exhausted after making such a long journey.”
“It took a very – long time to – come here,” Jacoba said hesitatingly, “b-but – he said I am to – go away – again at once.”
“His Lordship told me that when he sent for me.”
“Who – who are you?”
74. Love Lifts The Curse Page 6