60 The Duchess Disappeared

by Barbara Cartland

  At the top of the stairs there was a landing and opening off it were several pairs of double mahogany doors.

  Fiona remembered that Ian had told her that in Scotland the important rooms were all on the first floor and she was therefore not surprised when the Major Domo, who had gone ahead of them, flung open two doors and announced in a voice that seemed to ring out almost like a clarion call,

  “Miss Mary-Rose Rannock, Your Grace!”

  As he spoke, Mr. McKeith relinquished Mary-Rose’s hand and stood just inside the doorway, while the child edged forward towards a man at the far end of the room.

  He stood in front of a chimneypiece of carved stone, which soared high towards the ceiling and seemed to make a perfect background for its present owner.

  Without really meaning to do so, Fiona stopped beside Mr. McKeith and stared at the Duke.

  Fiona had expected him to be impressive, she had expected that because she was so sure that Ian resembled him he would be handsome, but she had not thought that he would be quite so magnificent or so overpowering.

  Dressed in a kilt with a silver-topped sporran, he seemed to be a giant of a man and she learnt later that he was in fact all of six foot three inches in height.

  There was a distinct resemblance to his brother in his dark hair and straight eyebrows over grey eyes.

  But the expression on his face was so different that had she seen him in different circumstances Fiona wondered if she would have guessed that he was Lord Ian’s brother.

  He looked imperious, authoritative, reserved or perhaps the right word was cold.

  There was nothing warm or human about him and Fiona told herself that he could undoubtedly be ruthless and perhaps cruel.

  He stood utterly at his ease, watching the small figure of Mary-Rose advance towards him.

  Fiona felt that there was no softness in his eyes, only a cynicism and perhaps even dislike – she could not be sure.

  Then the spell that seemed to have kept Mary-Rose silent yet had compelled her to walk towards the Duke broke and, with a little cry that was characteristic of her, she exclaimed,

  “You are like Dadda! I can see it now and he told me that you looked just like each other when you were little boys.”

  She reached the Duke and tipped her head up to stare at him.

  “This is a very big castle, Uncle Aiden, but Dadda said that, when you were little like me, you climbed up all the Towers to the very top. Will I be able to do that?”

  There was something so compelling in the childish voice that it seemed as if she broke through the Duke’s reserve and he bent down towards her, holding out his hand.

  “Perhaps first, Mary-Rose, we should say how-do-you-do to each other and let me welcome you to my home.”

  “I’m sorry – I forgot to curtsey,” Mary-Rose exclaimed, doing so as she spoke.

  Then she put her hand in the Duke’s and said,

  “It’s difficult for you to kiss me when I am wearing my bonnet, so perhaps you had better lift me up to do so.”

  In any circumstances, Fiona told herself, she would have been amused by the expression on the Duke’s face. She knew it had never crossed his mind for an instant that he should kiss his niece.

  A little awkwardly he bent down and picked her up in his arms.

  Confidingly Mary-Rose put her arm round his neck and said,

  “That’s better! You’re very tall!”

  Then she kissed his cheek.

  “I think the answer to that is that you are very small,” the Duke replied, as if he had to assert himself.

  “I expect I’ll grow,” Mary-Rose laughed, “just as you did.”

  “That is true,” the Duke admitted.

  As if feeling slightly embarrassed at holding Mary-Rose, he set her down on the floor and turned to Mr. McKeith.

  “I am glad you are back, McKeith. You seem to have been away for a long time and there is a great deal of work waiting for you.”

  “I am sure there is, Your Grace.”

  Mr. McKeith walked forward after the Duke had spoken to him and Fiona accompanied him.

  Only when they reached the hearthrug where the Duke was standing did he appear to notice Fiona for the first time and there was no mistaking the surprise in his eyes.

  “Who is this?” he enquired.

  “May I present Miss Fiona Windham, Your Grace.”

  “Windham?”

  The question was sharp.

  “I am Mary-Rose’s aunt,” Fiona said briefly as she curtseyed.

  The Duke raised his eyebrows.

  “You thought it necessary to bring your niece here to The Castle?”

  “There was no one else,” Fiona replied. “Mr. McKeith told me that you wished her to be accompanied by her nurse or her Governess and, as it happens, I am both, besides having a nearer relationship.”

  She thought that there was an expression of anger in the Duke’s eyes as he said,

  “Did my brother employ you in that capacity?”

  Fiona felt that he intended to be rude and her eyes were steely as she replied quietly,

  “Your brother and my sister, Your Grace, lived in very straitened circumstances and had no money to employ a large staff. When I went to live with them after my father’s death, I was only too pleased to make myself useful by looking after and teaching Mary-Rose.”

  It seemed as if the Duke found this hard to believe, but he asked in a voice that Fiona was certain would have intimidated most people,

  “Are you expecting to stay here?”

  “I feel certain that is what Mary-Rose would wish me to do,” Fiona replied.

  The child, who had not been listening to the exchange that was taking place, was suddenly aware of what was being said and she turned to the Duke to say,

  “Please, Uncle Aiden, I want Aunt Fiona to stay with me. I’d be very unhappy if she went away and she teaches me many things I want to know.”

  There was no mistaking the plea in the childish voice and, as if the Duke found it difficult to make a decision without further consideration, he said a little cynically,

  “I am sure that for the moment at any rate we can accommodate your aunt in The Castle.”

  “Would you like me to take Mary-Rose and Miss Windham to their rooms, Your Grace?” Mr. McKeith asked.

  “I think that would be a good idea and, of course, I hope to see my niece later in the evening.”

  The way he excluded her was pointed, Fiona thought, but she merely curtseyed gracefully and turned to follow Mr. McKeith, holding out her hand to Mary-Rose as she did so.

  But Mary-Rose had something else to say,

  “Uncle Aiden, will you show me the places that you and Dadda used to hide in when you were naughty, so that no one could find you? I want to go to the Guard Tower where once you – defied your Tutor and refused to do any lessons.”

  She gave a little gurgle of laughter.

  “That must have been fun! Dadda said he was very very angry when you stayed right at the top of the Tower and he was too old to clamber up the steps and catch you.”

  “Now listen to me, Mary-Rose,” the Duke said, “and this is important!”

  There was a note of authority in his voice that swept the smile from Mary-Rose’s lips.

  “You are never,” the Duke continued, “never in any circumstances – do you understand – to go to the Guard Tower. You can play anywhere else in The Castle and in the grounds, but the Guard Tower is not safe. I intend to have it repaired, but it has not yet been done and so you are to keep away from it. Do you understand?”

  Mary-Rose gave a little sigh.

  “Yes, Uncle Aiden, I understand, but perhaps I can look up and see where you sat on top of the Tower without going inside it.”

  “Yes, you can do that,” the Duke said. “But remember what I have just told you and it would be wise for your – aunt to remember it too.”

  There was a little pause before the word ‘aunt’, as if he found it difficult to admit
the relationship and Fiona continued,

  “I shall not forget, Your Grace, but you will understand that because Mary-Rose’s father loved his home very deeply, he told her stories about it which she will always remember.”

  Fiona thought her words would make the Duke feel embarrassed, but he only looked at her in what she thought was a somewhat contemptuous manner.

  Then Mary-Rose ran to her and put her hand in hers.

  “It’s all very exciting, isn’t it, Aunt Fiona?” she asked as they walked down the room. “And Uncle Aiden does look a little like Dadda, but older and rather – fierce!”

  They had reached the door by this time, but Fiona was quite certain that the Duke had heard the child’s description of him.

  She hoped it made him feel uncomfortable, although she doubted it.

  They were introduced by Mr. McKeith to an elderly housekeeper and taken to rooms on the same floor, but which were a long way down a twisting passage and were, Fiona decided, in one of the other Towers,

  There was a large room for Mary-Rose with a four-poster bed that delighted her and a room opening out of it for Fiona. It had been intended, she knew, for Fiona’s Governess. It was therefore not as impressive as the one the child would occupy.

  However, it was quite comfortable and had a magnificent view from the window over the encircling wall of The Castle and the wild moorland beyond it.

  “I’ll send one of the housemaids to unpack for you, miss,” Mrs. Meredith, the housekeeper said. “Her name is Jeannie and she’ll look after you and the wee bairn.”

  Her voice softened as she looked at Mary-Rose, who was exploring her room.

  Then she added,

  “It be happy day for us all to see his Lordship’s daughter and know she’s to live amongst us.”

  “I think Lord Ian would like to know she is here,” Fiona said softly.

  “We’ve missed him! We’ve missed him awful all these years,” Mrs. Meredith said, “and many a tear was shed over the whole countryside when it was learnt he’d met his death in one of those mechanical monsters they call trains!”

  “It was very sad for Mary-Rose to lose her father and mother both at the same time,” Fiona replied.

  “We’ll make it up to her. She’s come home, and there’s no one who calls himself a Rannock who’ll not be ready to fight and die for her!”

  Fiona wanted to say that she hoped they would have to do nothing of the sort, but she knew that the old woman was speaking with a deep sincerity and she could only smile her thanks.

  The luggage was brought upstairs and Jeannie came to unpack for them, exclaiming with delight at Fiona’s gowns as she hung them up in the ancient carved oak wardrobe.

  Mary-Rose, however, soon became restless.

  “Please, Aunt Fiona, I want to see more of The Castle,” she pleaded. “Let’s go and find Uncle Aiden and tell him what we want to do.”

  “I don’t think we should disturb your uncle, dearest. It will soon be your bedtime, but as it is such a lovely evening, I think we might have a little walk outside before your supper is ready.”

  Fiona instructed Jeannie to prepare a bath and told her what Mary-Rose should have for supper.

  Then, because it seemed foolish to dress up just to go out for a few minutes, they went down the stairs as they were and out onto the green grass that looked like a velvet carpet surrounding the main castle.

  Mary-Rose, however, was intent on seeing the Guard Tower which she had heard so much about from her father.

  Fiona knew that it had captured her imagination because the two young boys – she supposed they must have been about ten and thirteen at the time – had been so naughty as to defy authority.

  It was the sort of story that any child would find fascinating and Mary-Rose could repeat word by word what she had been told.

  “They took food from the breakfast table, Aunt Fiona, and hid it in their pockets, so they knew that if they stayed up on the Guard Tower all day and all night, they’d not be hungry.”

  “It was still rather naughty of them,” Fiona said.

  “Dadda said their Tutor was a cross old man who taught them very little and was always finding fault!”

  Fiona could not help thinking that it was somewhat reprehensible to tell the story to a child, but she could understand the fascination of it.

  Mary-Rose looked round her, very small against the towering walls in her white gown with its blue sash.

  “I wonder which is the Guard Tower,” she said. “Tell me which it is, Aunt Fiona.”

  “We shall have to ask somebody,” Fiona replied.

  There appeared to be no one about and the kilted servants who had been at the entrance when they arrived were a long way away.

  Then she saw in the distance the Duke come through the front door of The Castle and down the steps, followed by three dogs.

  She was just wondering whether he would be annoyed to see them on the lawns, when Mary-Rose saw him too.

  “There’s Uncle Aiden?” she exclaimed. “He’ll tell me.”

  Without waiting for Fiona to say anything, she sped across the grass, her fair hair glinting in the late afternoon sunshine.

  For a moment the Duke, who was turning in a different direction, did not see her, then he must have heard her voice.

  “Uncle Aiden! Uncle Aiden!”

  She ran towards him and he turned to shout,

  “Be careful of the dogs! Don’t touch them!”

  But it was too late.

  As Fiona heard what the Duke said, she started to run, but Mary-Rose had checked her rush towards the Duke as one of the dogs moved towards her.

  He was a huge mastiff, a breed Fiona had actually never seen before.

  The dog suddenly stood still as if the child was something unusual and different from any human being he had seen before.

  Then as the Duke called out sharply, “Rollo – come here!” Mary-Rose put out her hand to pat the dog’s head.

  “What a lovely dog!” she cried. “He’s almost as big as me!”

  It was true, Fiona thought, running now as quickly as she could, feeling that her heart was in her mouth in case the dog should savage the little girl.

  The Duke must have had the same thought, for he too was moving with quick strides towards Mary-Rose.

  Then both his and Fiona’s paces slackened as they stared at Mary-Rose and Rollo, as if they could not believe their eyes.

  The huge mastiff was wagging his tail and licking a little tentatively Mary-Rose’s arms as she threw them round his neck.

  As Fiona came to a standstill and drew in her breath, she realised that the Duke was also standing still and she knew by the expression on his face that he had been as afraid as she had of what might happen.

  “You are the biggest and most beautiful dog I have ever seen!” Mary-Rose murmured, resting her cheek against Rollo’s neck, who went on wagging his tail.

  The Duke walked to Fiona’s side.

  “I had no idea that you would be here,” he said. “I only take Rollo out when there is nobody about.”

  “I am sorry if we should not have been here, Your Grace, but it was a nice afternoon and I thought Mary-Rose should have some air, after being cooped up in a train for two days.”

  “Yes, of course,” he agreed, “and quite obviously my fears for Mary-Rose where Rollo is concerned were unnecessary. But it would be wise for you to keep your distance from him.”

  “I am very willing to do so,” Fiona said.

  The Duke’s eyes were still on Mary-Rose and Rollo as if he was mesmerised by the sight.

  “Has she always had this power with animals?” he asked.

  “I don’t think it is a power, but love,” Fiona replied. “She loves horses, cats, dogs and birds – in fact, everything that lives. They feel her love and respond to it.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  There was no mistaking the note of mockery behind the Duke’s question.

  Fiona looke
d him straight in the eyes.

  “I certainly believe that love is more important than hate, Your Grace.”

  There was no mistaking that there was an ulterior meaning behind her words and she saw a flash of anger in the Duke’s eyes.

  They were both talking in low voices as if they were afraid to upset the dog and now, before the Duke could answer Fiona, Mary-Rose looked round at him, still with her arms round Rollo and asked,

  “Uncle Aiden, please, can I come for a walk with you and Rollo? He’s the loveliest dog I have ever seen and I think he likes me.”

  “That is obvious!” the Duke answered. “But perhaps you should go to bed after such a tiring journey.”

  “You will take me another day?” Mary-Rose asked. “Please, please, Uncle Aiden, I will be very good and I would so like to go for a walk with Rollo.”

  “We will see about it tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Aiden.”

  She hugged the great mastiff again.

  “I love you!” she said. “And I think you’ll learn to love me. Then we will have games together.”

  The Duke began to walk away, followed by the other two dogs, who were the same breed but were bitches.

  “Come along, Rollo,” he called out.

  The mastiff seemed to hesitate for a moment and then, as Mary-Rose took her arms from round his neck, he gave her another lick on her arm and bounded after his Master.

  “He’s the biggest dog I ever saw, Aunt Fiona!”

  Fiona took the child’s hand, feeling somehow shaken by the incident.

  She wondered if she should tell Mary-Rose that it was unwise to touch strange dogs and then she knew that it was quite unnecessary to do so.

  As she had said to the Duke, because Mary-Rose loved animals, they loved her and it was very unlikely that any of them would ever harm her.

  ‘Why cannot we all be like that?’ Fiona asked herself as they walked back towards The Castle entrance.

  But she knew as she asked the question that she hated the Duke and there was no doubt that he disliked her as much as she disliked him, as he had her sister.

  ‘If we were animals we would snarl and bite each other,’ she told herself.

  Then she laughed a little ruefully at the idea.