‘Meg?’
‘You were right about Mother, Peter,’ she panted. ‘Even Father agrees. Can I …? Do you …?’ She looked down at her feet. What if Peter no longer wanted her for his wife? ‘If you still want me …?’
‘Want you?’ Peter stared at her. Suddenly he grasped her shoulders so hard it hurt but Meg didn’t care. The light in Peter’s eyes told her all she needed to know, even before he repeated gruffly ‘Want you? Meg Maxwell! I want you more than anything in the world. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.’ She smiled tremulously then. He seized her in his arms and swung her off her feet in his joy. When he set her down again he kissed her with tenderness, but Meg could feel the passion in him and her heart sang.
‘Hey, what’s all this then?’ Willie chuckled from the cottage door.
‘Meg is going to marry me,’ Peter told him triumphantly. ‘You are going to marry me?’ he asked in sudden consternation. Meg nodded. Her smile was radiant.
‘Well, I don’t know what’s brought this on, but it is about time. Congratulations! When’s the happy day?’
‘Soon. I’m sorry, Willie, it will make you terribly busy until Ross returns.’
‘If he returns,’ Willie corrected glumly.
‘I can’t believe Ross would run away,’ Meg frowned.
‘Even if it is true Rachel is expecting his baby, he probably doesn’t know yet.’
‘Mother must have been fairly certain.’
‘You will not let her change your mind, Meg, will you?’ Peter asked urgently, his arm tightening around her shoulders. ‘Come with me now …’
‘I shall not change my mind.’ Meg’s tone was calm and firm. ‘I just wish I had talked things over with Father, instead of telling Mother.’ She smiled up at Peter. ‘I think he’s really pleased you will be his son-in-law.’
‘But you will still have to face your mother. Shall I come?’
‘No. Now that I know we have Father’s blessing, and that he does not mind me leaving Windlebrae, I can deal with Mother. I hate quarrels but I’m not a coward. I must tell her to her face. I will pack my clothes though and maybe you will bring them down to your cottage, Willie?’ She grinned at Peter. She was the old mischievous Meg Willie remembered. ‘I don’t want to be coming to you without any clothes to wear.’
‘O-oh, I wouldn’t mind that.’ Peter winked at Willie and they both chuckled at Meg’s ready blush.
‘Rachel told me she had a carved wooden box. Can you bring that for her? I will collect you as soon as I finish my rounds,’ Peter promised, his smile broadening by the second. ‘Rachel will be pleased to see you too. She needs help to bathe her wounds, as well as a friend to give her comfort and advice.’
Much later that evening Meg felt exhausted by the events and emotional upheavals of the day. Peter sat beside her on the horsehair sofa at the side of the fire. It was time to go to bed but they were both reluctant to part.
‘You will not be sharing a bed with anyone else for long, my love,’ Peter said softly. ‘I saw the minister tonight. He had heard some of the rumours Eliza MacDougall has been spreading already. He has agreed to call the banns on Sunday – just once instead of thrice.
‘Can he do that?’
‘Oh yes. It costs a pound instead of four shillings and sixpence. Three times the price for a third of the work.’ Peter grinned. ‘What do we care, if it means we can marry sooner?’
‘Thank you, Peter. You are a good man,’ Meg murmured against his shoulder. Then she sat up with a shudder. ‘Even though you had warned me, I could not believe how cruelly Mother had wielded the whip until I saw Rachel’s back and shoulders.’ Her voice shook as she struggled to hold back her tears. ‘I think Mother has been a bit unbalanced ever since Josh died but she seems to have been worse since Rachel came. She flew into a terrible rage. She said if I left Windlebrae tonight I would never be allowed through her door again. Father was so calm about it all. She turned her fury on him then, but Willie intervened. In fact Willie was more stern and in command than I have ever seen him.’
‘Perhaps that is what your mother has needed since your father was ill,’ Peter reflected without criticism. ‘I suppose it became a habit to take charge.’
‘You’re making excuses? After the way my mother has treated you? And Rachel?’
‘Her treatment of that poor girl is unforgivable,’ Peter agreed. ‘As for us, she will have to get over her disappointment. Maybe you will be able to visit your father on market days, while she’s away from home.’
‘I never thought of that.’ Meg smiled happily. ‘I’m just sorry I didn’t talk to Father before. You are so good, Peter.’
‘I don’t feel good.’ His voice was muffled against the warm hollow at her neck and his arms tightened around her. ‘In fact I feel decidedly wicked – and happier than I ever believed possible. You blush so delightfully, my darling girl.’
Chapter Ten
ROSS KNEW NOTHING OF the changes that had taken place at Windlebrae so soon after his departure. As the days passed into weeks he despaired of hearing from Rachel and the thought of not seeing her again depressed him terribly.
He was on his way to the turnip field when he saw the Factor riding up the track to Briarbush on his big chestnut gelding. Jim MacDonald was surprised to see him.
‘Good morning, Jim. I heard your young relative was still with you?’
‘Good morning, Mr Shaw. Yes, Ross has decided to settle in the area. I have been putting word around that he’s looking for work.’
‘So I believe. I still think he’s a bit young to take on a farm of his own. I have another proposition to put to him, but I’m not sure whether he has enough experience.’
‘He is a hard worker, I can say that for him, and tidy too. Ross has been well-trained.’
‘Good, I’m pleased to hear that, as you’ll appreciate when you hear what I have in mind.’
‘Will you come in then and take a cup of tea? I expect Ginny will be in a bit of a fluster. We were not expecting you.’
‘I would welcome a hot drink. It’s a raw morning with the autumn mist so slow to clear. Tell your wife I insist on drinking it at the kitchen table today, and one of her girdle scones would be a treat.’
A little while later, the Factor looked quite at ease in the MacDonalds’ cosy kitchen. It made Ross feel less in awe than he might have done when Jim called him in.
‘You do know Alice Beattie, Jim? She farms at The Glens of Lochandee?’
‘I know her slightly. How is she keeping?’
‘In good health, but struggling to pay her way like the rest. Worse than that, in fact. She thinks she may have to give up the tenancy. It will break her heart to leave Lochandee. Her family have been there for generations.’ He turned to Ross. ‘I have a proposition to put to you, young man, and I want you to consider it very carefully. It would be a big mistake to let Alice Beattie down if you changed your mind, or found the responsibility too much. There would be no place for you on this estate, or any other in this area.’
‘I understand,’ Ross nodded. Privately he felt he had nothing to lose. He would welcome any challenge which would take his mind off Rachel. He had to make a new life and learn to face the future without her.
‘Alice Beattie is the last member of a family called McAllister, except for some cousins in Canada and they were really her mother’s side. She married Thomas Beattie late in life. They had no family. Tom died eight months ago. He was a sick man for five years or more, before that. Alice gave him all her attention and devotion. It meant she had to leave the farm to hired men. They were good men. Most of them had been at The Glens of Lochandee for years, but they were all getting old. One died and another lost his wife and moved away to stay with his sister near Annan. Nathan Wright and his wife are still in their cottage but they will not go near the farm since Mrs Beattie hired a new fellow – or at least one of her neighbours hired him for her. I expect McNish was half drunk before he even reached the hiring fair.
He would probably have hired a monkey if he had seen one.’ Mr Shaw gave an exasperated sigh.
‘Anyway since then the whole farm has deteriorated at an unbelievable rate. Really unbelievable. The Glens of Lochandee was one of the best farms on the estate at one time. The McAllisters were highly respected tenants. At Mrs Beattie’s request we let some of the Lochandee land to two of the neighbouring farmers when her husband became ill. Neither of them is doing as well as Alice did on her own.’
‘I see. How many acres is it now?’ Ross asked, his interest awakened.
‘A hundred and fifty acres. It’s good land. It will be about seven miles from Briarbush wouldn’t you say, Jim?’
‘About that. It’s a bit further south, nearer the Solway Firth.’
‘The land is all south-facing, well-watered fields – a real dairy farm.’ Mr Shaw quirked an eyebrow at Ross, recalling his previous comments.
‘Sounds too good to be true,’ Jim frowned. ‘Where does Ross come in?’
‘Alice would like to end her days where she was born. I’m certain she could manage with the help of a good reliable man, someone trustworthy in every respect. She has discovered the man she has been depending on during her husband’s last illness is bone idle. But I’ve made a few enquiries myself and I have good reason to believe he’s a cheat, and a liar. I just wish she had asked me to find her someone earlier instead of relying on McNish. She also has a young fellow. He’s a sort of half-wit, but he is intensely loyal to Alice. He’s as strong as a horse, and willing with it, but he needs constant supervision. His family were at Lochandee before Alice was born. He has nowhere else to go if she gives up.’ Mr Shaw looked up at Ross and held his gaze.
‘Are you offering me the job?’ Ross asked.
‘Not even that exactly.’ Mr Shaw hesitated, then he went on, ‘Mrs Beattie has the stock. She can just about afford the rent. If she had a man she could rely on I’m convinced she could pay her way.’ He grimaced. ‘The truth is she can’t afford to pay much in the way of wages. She needs someone who would farm the place as though it were his own. You would be well-fed, that I can guarantee, and clothed. If there is any profit at the end of the year, after the rent and all the expenses have been met, then Alice would be willing to share it instead of wages.’ He met Ross’s eyes steadily. ‘It’s a challenge but I feel there would be some reward for the right man, even in these days of poor prices.’
‘There’s not much profit in any farming at present,’ Jim MacDonald, demurred, ‘but it sounds a fair proposition to me. Certainly it would be less risk than being a tenant on your own, lad. Tell me, Mr Shaw, what does Mrs Beattie hope to get out of it?’
‘No more than I have told you already – just to keep her beloved Glens of Lochandee to the end of her days. Of course she keeps hoping the Government will honour the promises made after the war when the nation was starving. If that happens she could afford to pay decent wages and employ good men again, as her father did. Before you make your mind up, young man, you will need to meet her. You can see Lochandee for yourself. Are you interested?’
‘If I managed to keep the farm going,’ Ross said, choosing his words, ‘for as long as Mrs Beattie needed it, what chance would I have of taking it on as a tenant in my own name?’
‘Well, well!’ Mr Shaw threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’m pleased to see you consider all aspects, my boy. You are looking ahead. I’d say you would have every chance of becoming the next tenant, if you prove yourself worthy with Alice Beattie. I should warn you, though, she may not be fit enough to carry on alone, but she is still a healthy, energetic woman. She’s in her late fifties I think.’
‘I would like to meet her and to see the farm. Would you mind if Mr MacDonald came too, to give me his opinion.’
‘That would be in order. What do you say, Jim?’
‘I should be pleased to see The Glens of Lochandee. I’ve heard a lot about it. They used to sell some fine Ayrshire cattle. But I’m convinced Mistress Beattie and young Ross here will make up their own minds.’
‘I have nothing to lose,’ Ross said bitterly to Ginny MacDonald, when her husband had escorted the Factor back to his horse.
‘Maybe not,’ Ginny agreed, ‘but you might have a lot to gain, if you are patient. Never underestimate a woman, Ross. Alice Beattie was brought up to farming. She will know as much about it as most men, even if she does not have the physical strength to do all the things she would like. I’ve lived in this area all my life and her father and grandfather McAllister were well respected as breeders of Clydesdale horses and Ayrshire cattle. Her grandfather was more than just the largest tenant farmer on the estate, he was a close friend of the present Laird’s father. His wife was a distant relation, I believe. I can scarcely credit that Alice Beattie has fallen on such hard times. A sick husband needing her attention would make life difficult, of course, but I’m sure there must be some other reason for it.’
The following morning Jim MacDonald harnessed Flash into the trap. He knew most of the country roads around Briarbush and Mr Shaw had given him detailed directions once they reached the village of Lochandee.
‘We’ll cut across country and skirt around Lockerbie heading south,’ he told Ross. It will save Flash a couple of miles or so both ways and you will see a bit of the countryside as we go.’
Almost as soon as they reached the village of Lochandee Jim turned the trap on a narrow road to their right.
‘Two miles along here before we turn onto the road into The Glens of Lochandee,’ he told Ross. ‘It’s not so far as the crow flies but Flash hasn’t grown his wings yet.’ He grinned at Ross. ‘When we get a bit higher you will see the village if you look back.’
Ross followed his advice. He liked the lay of the country as they jogged along. More than that, he had the strangest feeling of belonging, of being a part of the gently sloping fields, the wooded banks and meandering burns. In spite of the misty autumn morning he could see the glint of a loch through a fold in the hills, with the village spread out along one side. Clusters of low white-washed cottages hugged the side of a wide street, at the end of which the red sandstone of the church spire glowed warmly against a blue-grey sky, with the shining arm of the loch curling round the back of it. Here and there large sandstone villas dotted the land behind the cottages.
The farm itself was another mile off the road. The buildings were arranged on three sides of a good square yard. The house, with its garden and a small orchard, was set a little distance apart making up the fourth side. It was much larger than the MacDonalds’ neat whitewashed farmhouse, and more than twice the size of Windlebrae. Moreover it was built in red sandstone with pillars on either side of the wide front door.
‘The house looks big, almost … grand!’
‘Aye, The Glens of Lochandee was known to be a fine place,’ Jim reflected. ‘The sandstone is quarried locally and most of the farmhouses round about the Laird’s mansion are built with it. It’s not the look of the house that pays the rent though,’ he added warningly.
‘No,’ Ross nodded solemnly, ‘I know that, but it does give a warm, welcoming sort of feel to the whole place. I feel I could belong here.’
Jim MacDonald gave him a startled look, then he laughed. ‘It’s funny you should say so. That’s exactly how Ginny and I felt about Briarbush when we first saw it, and I’ve never wanted to leave it. Like Alice Beattie, I hope I can stay there until they carry me out feet first.’
‘Briarbush was not where you lived with your parents then?’ Ross asked in surprise.
‘Oh no. My elder brother took over the farm where we lived. We looked at a number of farms before I got Briarbush, and I was impatient to be married. I have never regretted either step,’ he grinned. ‘Though I did believe there was no lassie as gentle and pretty as your own mother when I was a bit of a laddie.’
Ross stared at him open mouthed.
‘You knew my mother?’ he whispered hoarsely.
‘Of course I knew her. Half the lad
s in the village worshipped her.’ He smiled reminiscently. ‘We would have run miles just to have her smile at us. The old folks in the village all thought Cathie Maxwell was one of the kindest, gentlest young women God ever made.
‘Maxwell? Did you say Cathie Maxwell?’
‘Well Catherine if you used her full name I suppose. Cameron always referred to her as his “wee sister, Cathie”. They were a talented pair – him with his fiddle and her with a voice as clear as a nightingale.’
‘Well!’ Ross was dumfounded. ‘Why didn’t they tell me?’ he muttered to himself. Jim MacDonald looked at him curiously.
‘Tell you what, Ross?’
‘That Cathie Maxwell was my mother, of course!’
‘You mean you didn’t know? Gertrude didn’t even tell you that?’ Jim was astounded.
‘Not a word,’ Ross breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I had no idea my mother was a Maxwell …’
‘It was a tragedy that your father was killed only a few days before their wedding.’
‘You knew my father too?’ Ross was incredulous. ‘They were going to be married?’
‘I didn’t know your father, but I know they were going to be married. The Ross’s had a hill farm. It was very isolated. Cathie was staying there. Mrs Ross was in poor health and your mother was good at nursing people. She seemed to have a gift for caring.’
‘I see …’ Suddenly Ross felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was true he was still illegitimate. Nothing could alter that fact, but it was a relief to know he was not the son of a whore. ‘How was my father killed? Do you know?’
‘Everybody knew. It was in all the papers. There were twenty people killed. Didn’t Gertrude tell you anything about your parents?’
‘No.’ Ross’s voice was grim. ‘I didn’t even know my name was my father’s surname. There was nothing in the letter about them.’
‘Cameron should have told you! Gertrude and her morals and religion! She’s just a hypocrite. If the truth be known she might have caused a bigger slur on the Maxwell name than anyone if some of the rumours were true,’ Jim muttered angrily.
A Maxwell Maligned (Laird of Lochandee) Page 11