74. Love Lifts The Curse

by Barbara Cartland

  In fact she was a little surprised at herself when she admitted it to the women this morning and it was something she had never been able to be proud of because her mother had run away with her father.

  Her grandfather, whom she had never known, had been, she was told, a fanatical Jacobite.

  And this was the reason for her name.

  He had been furious that his daughter should have married an Englishman when he hated the whole race and he had written to his daughter saying,

  “I no longer acknowledge you as one of my family. You have disgraced our name and put a blot on our family tree that can never be erased. I shall never mention your name again and you are no longer fit to call yourself my daughter.”

  “How could he have written anything so cruel to you?” Jacoba asked her mother when she had shown her the letter.

  “I cried for a long time after I had received it,” Mrs. Ford replied, “but then I knew that nothing mattered except that your father loved me and I loved him.”

  Her voice was very happy as she went on,

  “I was so very lucky to find the only man in the world who is the other part of myself and that is why I pray, my dearest, that when you are grown up you will do the same.”

  ‘It seems as if Mama’s prayers will not be answered,’ Jacoba thought despondently.

  She turned from the sea and walked back towards The Castle.

  When she entered the Earl’s bedroom, Angus jumped up eagerly. She knew that he was bored with sitting by his unconscious Master.

  “Thank you very much, Angus,” Jacoba said.

  The spaniels went to lie beside the bed as they always did and Jacoba looked at the Earl to see if there was any change from when she had left.

  She knew that he had moved because his hand was now lying on top of the sheets.

  She felt it gently to see if he was warm enough or perhaps too hot.

  As she did so, he opened his eyes.

  “Who – are you?”

  His voice made her start and she was frightened by the question.

  Supposing she told him the truth and he flew into a rage? It would be very bad for him.

  “I am helping Doctor Faulkner nurse you back to health,” she replied finally.

  The Earl was staring at her.

  “Have I – seen you – before?”

  Jacoba nodded.

  “Yes, but please do not think about it. Just try and go back to sleep.”

  “I am awake – have I been – asleep for – a long time?”

  “This is the fourth day.”

  There was silence, but the Earl did not close his eyes.

  Then, when she was wondering whether she should stay or go away, he said,

  “The poachers – hit me and something – pierced my – shoulder.”

  “It was a wicked thing to do!” Jacoba said. “But you are nearly well, my Lord, so try and forget about it!”

  There was another silence before the Earl said and his voice sounded strange,

  “I will – not have – poachers on the – river!”

  “I have told you,” Jacoba said patiently, “two of your men are now guarding it night and day”

  The Earl gave a little sigh that was one of relief.

  Then he said,

  “You – have not – told me – your name.”

  Jacoba felt that there was nothing she could do but tell him the truth.

  “It is Jacoba Ford,” she said quietly, “and, as I am your nurse, I have to tell you not to worry about anything but getting well.”

  “That – is what I – intend to – do,” the Earl answered.

  Then to her relief he closed his eyes and said no more.

  *

  When Dr. Faulkner came later in the evening, she told him what had happened.

  “This confirms what I thought,” he said with satisfaction, “that his Lordship has suffered no brain damage.”

  “I don’t think he remembered that I am – the woman he – tried to – send away,” Jacoba told him.

  “Well, he cannot send you away now. I shall not allow it. We still have to take great care of him and there is no one else I can put in your place.”

  He saw the light that came into Jacoba’s eyes and it made him aware of how afraid she was of having to leave.

  As he drove away from The Castle, he was wondering what he should do about her.

  It might just be possible for him to find her some employment in the neighbourhood, but then he told himself the truth that she was too lovely.

  No woman with any sense would want anything so exquisite in her house if she had a husband or grown up sons.

  Besides that, there was obviously not the sort of employment in this part of Scotland for somebody who was so clearly a lady.

  He worried over her all the way while driving on to his next case.

  He was still worrying when he came back the next morning.

  As usual he sent Jacoba away while he and Angus dressed the Earl’s wound.

  While they did so, the Earl had his eyes open watching them.

  When they had finished, he asked briefly,

  “How – soon can I – get up?”

  “Perhaps in a day or so,” Doctor Faulkner replied. “But even then you will not be able to leave this room. If you would like to sit up now, I will put a pillow behind you.”

  He and Angus lifted the Earl into a sitting position without moving his arm any more than was unavoidable.

  His Lordship had already been washed and shaved and, when Jacoba came back into the room and saw him sitting up, she stared at him in surprise.

  “Our patient is better!” the doctor told her.

  Then before she could speak he said to the Earl,

  “I cannot tell you, my Lord, how splendid Miss Ford has been in nursing you. It would have been impossible for me to manage without her or to find anyone at a moment’s notice to look after you.”

  The Earl did not say anything and Jacoba held her breath.

  She was so afraid that he would tell her to leave The Castle at once.

  To her surprise he answered,

  “Of course I am grateful, but now I would like something substantial to eat. I am also very thirsty.”

  “That is the best news I have heard for days,” Doctor Faulkner said, “and I know that Miss Ford would like to carry the good news to the cook.”

  Jacoba knew that he was giving her the chance to leave the room.

  She went down to the kitchens.

  She had already made friends with the cook who had been at The Castle for years.

  He had originally been employed as a young man to help the old cook, Mrs. Sutherland, who had been an important part of the household.

  She had looked after the Earl’s father for over thirty years.

  She had been on the point of retiring when the Earl had given orders that there were to be no women in The Castle.

  Mrs. Sutherland had asked to see the Earl, but he had refused.

  “I’d like to give Master Tarbot a piece of my mind!” he had said. “But there, that’s what you get for all the years I’ve slaved awa’ making his favourite dishes since he was in the pram!”

  Being banned from The Castle, she was very resentful at not being able to pop into the kitchens.

  She wanted to talk to the man who had taken her place and help mix the Christmas pudding and it had always been a tradition that everybody in The Castle should have a stir of it for good luck.

  Euan, the man who had taken her place, welcomed Jacoba with a slight smile.

  He was a kindly man and a very good cook, who was always conscientious about his work.

  She told him what the Earl wanted and he started immediately to cook one of his favourite dishes that would not take too long.

  Jacoba thanked him and went off to the pantry to find Ross.

  He was polishing some of the fine silver, which he put on the table for her to admire.

  “His Lordship is
thirsty and has asked for a drink,” she told him.

  “Then he be on the mend,” Ross remarked.

  “That is true,” Jacoba replied. “What are you going to give him?”

  “I thinks this calls for a glass of champagne!” Ross answered. “‘We has a few bottles left over from last Christmas and I’m sure the doctor’ll fancy a wee drop and so’ll you, Miss Jacoba.”

  “I would not refuse!” Jacoba laughed. “But I suspect that his Lordship would be horrified at my drinking it, so please keep it for me until dinner.”

  As she spoke, she wondered how long it would be before she would sit for the last time at the magnificent oak table – or eat such delicious food served by Ross and one of the footmen.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Ross asked,

  “His Lordship hasna sent you awa?”

  “The doctor made it clear it was important that I should stay.”

  Ross smiled.

  “That be good news, very good news, Miss Jacoba!”

  Almost reluctantly Jacoba went upstairs again.

  She had no idea that as soon as she had left the room Doctor Faulkner has said to the Earl,

  “Now, whatever you may be feeling about Jacoba, I will not have you upsetting yourself over her!”

  He had wondered as he spoke if the Earl realised who Jacoba was.

  He was almost certain that he did and, when the Earl spoke again, he knew that he was right.

  “She was unable to go before I was assaulted by those poachers,” the Earl said as if he was reasoning it out for himself, “so I suppose you told her to stay.”

  “I begged her to do so,” Doctor Faulkner answered. “When you were brought back to The Castle badly injured and half drowned, I could not have managed without her.”

  “Half drowned?” the Earl enquired.

  “The poachers made sure that you could not give evidence against them,” the doctor answered, “by throwing you in the river in the hope you would drown!”

  There was a pause before the Earl said,

  “I find it hard to believe that that sort of thing can happen on the River Tavor!”

  “Well, it did,” the doctor replied, “but it is an outrage that should never happen again.”

  “I will make sure of that as soon as I am up and about,” the Earl insisted.

  “I hope you will, but you have to get well slowly and you still require careful nursing, do not forget that!”

  The Earl did not reply.

  But there was a twist to his lips that told the doctor, who was very perceptive, that he was well aware of why he was speaking so positively.

  When Jacoba came back into the room, he made no comment.

  He merely listened when she told the doctor that Euan was cooking something quickly for the Earl.

  She also told him that Ross was bringing up something to quench his thirst.

  As she finished speaking, Ross appeared with the bottle of champagne.

  Although she thought the Earl raised his eyebrows at the sight of it, he did not say anything.

  “Champagne!” the doctor remarked as Ross offered him a glass. “This certainly calls for a celebration! Your Lordship is better, your shoulder is nearly healed and you can thank God that your brain was undamaged.”

  The Earl looked at him questioningly.

  “Was that a possibility?”

  “Definitely so! They hit you with something hard and heavy, probably an oar.”

  “Then, of course, I can only say that I am very thankful, both to Fate and naturally to you, doctor!”

  He paused and then as if it was with an effort he added,

  “ – and to Miss Ford!”

  Jacoba felt shy.

  Then the Earl said sharply to Ross,

  “A glass of champagne for Miss Ford!”

  Ross went outside the door and came back with a glass in his hand and Jacoba knew that he had brought it upstairs.

  She took the glass of champagne in her hand and the doctor said,

  “I think, Jacoba, you and I should drink to his Lordship. Shall I give the toast?”

  “Y-yes – of course,” Jacoba replied.

  The doctor raised his glass.

  “To the Chieftain! That he will soon be well and may he find happiness in the future and prosperity for the Clan!”

  Jacoba thought that it was a very daring toast.

  Then to her astonishment the Earl did not scowl nor express any disapproval.

  Instead he said,

  “Thank you, Faulkner.”

  But he was looking at Jacoba.

  As she raised her glass, his eyes met hers and she could not look away.

  She felt a strange sensation in her breast that she had never felt before.

  She did not understand it, but she was suddenly breathless as if she had been running.

  And at the same time the room seemed filled with sunshine.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  All through the next two days Jacoba was aware that the Earl was watching her.

  He did not say anything.

  He accepted that she should look after him and did everything the doctor had ordered him to do.

  At the same time she had the uneasy feeling that he was like a tiger waiting to spring.

  ‘I shall have to leave,’ she thought despairingly at night when she was in her own room.

  Then she realised that every day she was in Scotland she loved it more.

  The beauty of the country seemed to seep into her, so she felt that it would be an intolerable wrench when she finally had to say goodbye to all those beautiful hills and glens.

  The doctor had ordered that she should massage the Earl’s forehead very gently. It was to move the blood which he was afraid might have clotted where the deep bruise had been.

  At first Jacoba was shy of touching him while he was awake and then she told herself that as a nurse she must be impersonal and it would be foolish to have any particular feelings about what she had to do.

  The Earl submitted to her massage by closing his eyes and lying very still.

  She was very gentle, her fingers moving softly and rhythmically over his forehead and the first time she did it he fell asleep. But in the evening, as she had to do massage him twice a day, he remained awake.

  When she had finished, he just said,

  “Thank you.”

  She knew that not only every day but every hour he seemed to be getting better and stronger.

  He was now allowed to sit in a warm robe at the open window.

  From there he would either look out at the exquisite view over the sea or he would read the newspapers.

  Even when he was reading Jacoba was conscious, although she thought that she must be wrong, that he was watching her every move as she walked about his room.

  She had the terrifying feeling that he was sorting out in his mind exactly what he would say when he told her to go.

  She wanted to discuss what she should do with Doctor Faulkner, but he had, as he had already told her, two or three desperate cases on his hands.

  He came into The Castle in a hurry, examined the Earl and then left again.

  ‘I must talk to him,’ she thought.

  Then she knew that she had in fact nothing to say.

  She lay awake at night wondering whom she should approach in the village at home when she returned and then she remembered that the Viscount had told her to get in touch with him when she returned from Scotland.

  However she thought that would be a mistake.

  The one thing she did not want was to have to tell him and Hamish McMurdock about the way his uncle had behaved when she first arrived at The Castle.

  It was embarrassing to think of it even to herself and she knew that she could not bear to speak of it either to Hamish or to the Viscount.

  This morning when she awoke she was told that the Earl was getting up and that he did not require her services.

  She had expected to receive such a message a
t any time and yet when Ross gave it to her she felt as if she had received a blow on the head.

  Then Ross added,

  “My wife was hopin’, miss, that you’d drop by and see her. She’s somethin’ to show you that she thinks might be of interest.”

  “Is it something she has made?” Jacoba asked with an effort.

  “That it is, miss,” Ross affirmed.

  Jacoba thought sadly that when she was gone there would be nobody to be interested in what the women in the village made, nor to think of ways to help them sell their wares.

  ‘There is so much I could do here,’ she murmured to herself.

  Then she was aware that she was tempting herself to find an excuse to stay on in Scotland and she realised sadly that she could not offend the Earl by remaining in the neighbourhood.

  To her surprise the Earl did not send for her before luncheon.

  She would have gone out into the garden had there not been a heavy sea mist.

  It was not raining, but the skies were dark and the mist became thicker as the day wore on.

  Jacoba had luncheon alone in the dining room.

  Only when she had finished did Ross say,

  “His Lordship’d like a word with you, miss, in the study.”

  She had a feeling that this was ominous, but she could not say anything to Ross.

  She rose from the table and walked slowly across the landing before she knocked on the door of the study and gently opened it

  She felt that her hand was trembling and her legs seemed incredibly weak and she had to tell herself that she must be more sensible.

  The Earl was standing in front of the fireplace.

  He was wearing his kilt and looked as imposing, she thought, as the portrait of his father above the mantelpiece.

  Slowly she closed the door behind her and walked towards him.

  When he did not speak, she stammered,

  “I am – so glad you are – better, my Lord, but you must not – do too much.”

  “I am perfectly well,” the Earl replied in a hard voice.

  He did not ask Jacoba to sit down.

  She waited, feeling as if she was standing in the dock and that she was about to receive punishment for some crime she had committed.

  “I am, of course, exceedingly grateful to you, Miss Ford,” the Earl said slowly, “for the way you have looked after me while I have been ill. But I know you will understand that there is now no necessity for me to have a nurse any longer and, of course, you will wish to leave.”