“The Clan can enjoy another roasted ox and drink themselves unconscious on whisky which you can well afford. After that we will leave for our honeymoon in the South.”
“If you – touch me, I will – kill myself!” Clova cried.
She glanced towards the window as she spoke and her voice was hysterical.
Euan regarded her through half-closed eyes and, almost as if he was speaking, she sensed that he was considering whether he should rape her or not.
He might be thinking that, if in the morning she was distraught and dishevelled, she might evoke pity rather than condemnation.
He was working it out as if it was a mathematical puzzle and, as she turned to face him defiantly, he said,
“One day you will beg me for my favours and even if you dislike me it will only make it more amusing for me to subdue you. Complacency can be a bore – ”
“You appal and disgust me!” Clova screamed.
For a moment she thought that he would fling himself on her and she wondered wildly for how long she could fight him off.
Then to her utter relief he walked towards the door.
“It may reassure you to know,” he said, “that for tonight, at any rate, I will not touch you. Later I will certainly fulfil my duties as a husband to my satisfaction and yours, but tonight you can sleep peacefully and alone.”
He opened the door and smirked,
“Good night, Cousin Clova. When you think it over, you will find that it is easiest for you and in your best interests to accept my decision in this as in everything else. I intend to make sure that you make me a pleasant and obedient wife so that there will be no need for any more dramatics. ”
His voice was threatening as he added,
“If there are, I assure you that you will suffer for them and it will amuse me to beat you into submission.”
He left the room as he finished speaking and, as he closed the door, Clova heard him turn the key in the lock and press home a bolt.
Then there were just his footsteps going down the stone staircase and she was alone.
Because she knew that she was utterly defeated, she sank down on the floor and put her head in her hands.
She could hardly believe that this had happened to her.
Yet, while every nerve in her body revolted against what Euan had planned, she could see that in the twisted way that his brain worked it was very clever.
He was quite sure that nothing she could say in her defence would be accepted and the fact that she had stayed the night alone in Mallic Castle with Euan would damn her in the eyes of the Clan forever.
She would have been very stupid if she had not been aware when she was coming back to Scotland that she had to live down her mother’s reputation.
It was not only that Lottie had run away with a man who was a guest of her father-in-law, the Chieftain, but stories of her success in Paris would certainly have percolated back to Strathblane, doubtless many of them carried by Euan himself.
Clova had learnt from her other relatives that he had spent a great deal of time in France, and was not a sportsman as her father had been.
Nor, as she knew now, had he any fondness or loyalty for Scotland.
‘He is – utterly and – completely – despicable!’ she whispered to herself.
At the same time, if she did not marry him, she had the frightening feeling that the Clan might repudiate her.
Although it was very unusual, she was sure that it was not impossible for them to refuse to serve under somebody they thought unworthy of their allegiance, especially if it was a woman, and there were a number of other cousins, like Jamie, whom they could invite to become their Chieftain.
‘What can I – do? Oh, God – what can I – do?’ she wondered.
She could only be thankful that Euan had left her alone, although it was not out of consideration for her but merely in order that in the morning her promiscuous behaviour would be obvious to the Clan.
Tomorrow might be different.
Tomorrow, when she had been forced to acknowledge him as her husband, he would violate her, just as he would do everything possible to get her money into his own hands.
Although under the Law everything she possessed would become his, there would doubtless be documents to sign and, because Jan Maskill’s will was being proved in Paris, her agreement might be important.
The idea of what would happen once she was married was so terrifying that she rose from her knees to walk about the room, feeling, light though she was, the old floorboards creak under her feet.
She was aware that everything in the tower was dusty and dirty and had probably not been cleaned for years.
She saw now that the bed was not made up and there was just a shabby mattress on the heavy oak frame and two thin almost threadbare blankets.
It was quite irrelevant, but she knew that the bed had been made from the fir trees that grew in the Strath.
She thought perhaps the whole Castle had been furnished on the estate by Euan’s ancestors, who once cared for the McBlane Clansmen and employed them whenever it was possible.
What he wanted, as he said, was the exciting pleasures that he could find in London and Paris. And knowing how wicked he was, Clova was sure that he indulged in the vices that she had tried not to think about when she was with her mother.
“How could I – live with – such a man?” she asked aloud.
Because the very idea was so horrifying, she went to the window to throw open one of the small casements and see if by some miracle she could escape that way.
She saw then that Mallic Castle stood on the very edge of a cliff.
During the centuries since it had been built, the sea had eroded much of the rock below it, so that now from the window there was almost a straight drop down to the sea.
Below the cliffs were rugged rocks and huge waves were breaking over them.
The tower, she was sure, was the oldest part of Mallic Castle and the rest of it, which, as she vaguely remembered somebody saying had been restored some fifty years ago, stretched inland from it.
There was certainly no escape for her there and she looked up at the stars and wondered if she was brave enough to throw herself into the sea.
There was no question that, if she did so, she would die instantly and that seemed the only solution to her overwhelming problems.
Because, however, in the moonlight the sea looked cold and dark and the rocks even sharper and more dangerous than they did in the daytime, something young and resilient within her told her that life was unique and very precious.
Yesterday when she had spoken to the Clan she had been so happy.
Yesterday she had known that at last she had a home, somewhere she belonged and she was among people who accepted her as their own.
Now because she was rich, everything was to be taken from her.
She felt like cursing the diamond shares that Jan Maskill had left to her mother because she had given him a fleeting happiness and that had multiplied until they had become an enormous fortune.
They would, Monsieur Beauvais had told her, doubtless increase in value even more in the future because the mine was reported as showing a vast profit year after year.
‘If only Mama could have – enjoyed it,’ Clova whispered.
Then, almost as if she was standing behind her, she heard Lottie’s happy lilting laugh and heard her say, as she had so often when they were in trouble,
“Never say die! There is always tomorrow and the dawn of a new day.”
It had been Lottie’s whole philosophy that there was always something better around the corner and yet, when Clova thought of Euan waiting for her like an evil ogre, she could think of nothing more terrifying than that she should be his wife.
She was certain too that once he had gained all that he wanted and with all her money in his hands, he would dispose of her very effectively in such a manner that the crime would never be attributed to him.
‘What shall I do
, Mama?’ she asked like a child who was frightened of the dark and she was almost certain that she heard Lottie’s laugh again.
Because it was cold in the tower and because her whole body ached not only from riding but from being bumped about in the carriage that had brought her here, she lay down on the bed and pulled the inadequate blankets over her.
She realised that she would not sleep, but at least she could rest so that she had all her faculties working in the morning and could try, although it seemed impossible, to find a way of circumventing Euan’s ghastly plan.
‘Help me! Please, help me,” she whispered and knew that once again it was a prayer flying out to Tarquil McCowan.
Even to think of him brought her a sense of comfort and she could feel the strength of his arms as he had lifted her down from her horse and see the expression in his eyes when they talked together in his Castle.
‘I love him! I love him! But he too will believe Euan and will never wish to speak to me again’ she cried.
It was a long time later when she heard a strange sound.
It flashed through her mind that it was a rat that had scampered across the floor and she stifled the scream that rose to her lips.
Every story she had ever heard of rats, which, when they were hungry, had eaten babies and bitten prisoners or children, ran through her mind.
Then, when the sound came again, she sat up.
The moon was not at its full height and its light was streaming through the uncurtained windows to cast a glow of silver over the whole room.
When she had climbed into bed, Clova had not blown out the candle that had been alight when the plaid was taken off her head, but had left it burning on the chair beside her bed as there was no table.
Now it was guttering low and there was no need for it because the moonlight lit the room as if it was the light of day.
Then, as she sat trembling, looking around for the sign of the rat running across the uncarpeted floor, she realised that the sound had come from the window.
A moment later she saw two hands grasping the window ledge of the casement she had left open.
Then there was the head of a man and Clova thought that she was dreaming, but, as she stared too astonished even to scream, he raised himself up further and put one leg inside the window.
Then she knew as his body followed it that it was Tarquil.
She gave a little cry of joy and irrepressible happiness as she sprang out of the bed and ran towards him.
Then, as he pulled himself into the room, she flung herself against him.
“You have – come! You – have come! How did you – know? How did – you hear me? I have been praying – desperately, but I never thought you would know – where I was!”
His arms went around her and, as she looked up at him, tears of relief ran down her cheeks and, with her hair falling over her shoulders she looked unbelievably beautiful.
For a moment he just looked at her and then his arms tightened and his mouth came down on hers and held her captive.
It was then Clova realised that it was true, he was there and he would save her.
But even that joy was lost in the thrill of his kiss and the feeling of rapture that swept over her.
Now her love that she had acknowledged to herself seemed to rise within her and pour itself out towards him.
As he kissed her, she moved closer to him until she felt that they were joined invisibly and she was no longer herself but part of him.
Only when he raised his head did she say incoherently,
“I love – you! I love – you!”
“And I love you, my darling,” he said in a voice that was very deep and moving, “but before we do anything else, I have to get you quickly out of this terrible place.”
“The door is – locked and – bolted,” Clova said, “and he will not let me go – I am sure he – will not let me go.”
There was a note of stark terror in her voice that made Tarquil pull her roughly to him.
“I have to take you away,” he asserted, “and to do so you have to be very brave. Moreover we must not talk as voices carry at night.”
As if to make sure that she did not do so, he kissed her once again.
Then, when it was impossible to think of anything but the rapture that he had aroused in her, he put her resolutely from him and started to unwind the rope that was around his body.
He looked around the room, saw the oak bedstead and, with an exclamation that told Clova he was pleased, he walked towards it and tied the rope firmly around one of the legs, which was very sturdy.
Then Clova realised that, as he moved, there was another rope hanging behind him outside the window.
It was then she knew what he intended to do and remembered how frightening the steep fall to the sea had looked.
Now she could see outside that, standing back from the rocks and moving up and down on the waves, there was a boat with a man in it.
When he had tied the rope to his satisfaction, Tarquil came back to her side.
“Are you brave enough, my darling,” he asked, “to climb down the rope?”
Without answering him Clova looked out of the window and gave a shudder.
The sea seemed an immense distance away and she answered in a whisper,
“Y-you will think me a – coward – but I could not – d-do it.”
He smiled.
“That is what I expected you to say, so we will risk it together.”
He drew her closer to him and then, taking the scarf from around his neck, which was much longer than a man usually wore, he put it around his own waist and then around hers, tying them together.
Then he said quietly but firmly,
“Now you have to trust me. Put your arms around my neck but take care not to throttle me, close your eyes and just pray that God will carry us to safety and away from that devil who brought you here.”
“I am – praying,” Clova answered him.
He kissed her forehead before he lifted her up in his arms.
Chapter Seven
Clova kept her eyes tightly closed and prayed fervently as Tarquil had told her to do.
She was aware that he was letting himself down the wall of Mallic Castle in the same way as a mountaineer climbed or descended a cliff.
He found precarious footholds in the rough stones and his hands, immensely strong and powerful, clenched the rope.
She was sensible enough to control her impulse to hold him round his neck in case it might throttle him.
And she knew that, if she opened her eyes, she would be so frightened that she might either scream or faint.
‘Please – God – please – get us away safely please – please – ’
She was praying with an intensity that made her feel as if her whole body, her mind and her soul went into her prayer.
Then she was aware that they had now reached the top of the cliff and Tarquil was finding it even more difficult to descend onto the rocks.
‘Supposing we – fall into the – sea and are – drowned?’ she muttered to herself.
Now Clova was praying again, praying until it was a distinct shock when she felt a jar as Tarquil’s feet touched the rocks.
He did not speak, he only undid the scarf that bound them together and, dropping down between two rocks, he pulled her into his arms.
He was standing in water up to his knees and, as he moved slowly forward, the waves splashed over them both and at the same time brought the boat drew nearer to them.
As it rocked awkwardly, Tarquil dropped her into the stern, swung himself into the boat and sitting down he seized a pair of oars and started to row as the man who had been waiting for them was doing.
Clova, holding onto the sides of the boat, raised herself to a sitting position and, as she did so, she glanced back at Mallic Castle and gave a cry of fear.
Climbing down the rope that they had left behind them was Euan.
Somehow he must have heard them or perhaps
some instinct had told him of her escape. Now he was following her and, although she was not certain what he could do since they were already moving out to sea, she was desperately afraid.
“It’s all right,” Tarquil said comfortingly, “he will not be able to stop us now.”
He was facing her in the boat and, as she looked up at him beseechingly, still so terrified by all that she had gone through that it was difficult to think coherently, she saw the man behind him put down his oars and pick up a rifle from the bottom of the boat.
He raised it to his shoulder and, only as he pointed it at Euan, did Clova realise that he was about to shoot him.
She felt that she must order him not, but the words would not come to her lips.
She only heard herself murmur feebly,
“No! No!”
Then the man fired and Clova saw that the bullet had struck well above Euan’s head and he was already halfway down the side of Mallic Castle.
‘He has missed,’ she thought and did not know whether to be glad or sorry.
Tarquil, who had been looking at her face, did not realise what was happening until he heard the explosion behind him.
He turned his head just as the man behind him reloaded with the swiftness of long practice and raised the rifle again.
“No, Angus!” he called out sharply.
But it was too late.
There was a second explosion from the rifle, which was almost drowned by the sound of the waves and once again Clova realised that he had fired several feet above Euan’s head exactly as he had done before.
Knowing now that he was in great danger, Euan swung out on the rope.
Clova saw that the man in the boat, whom she guessed from his use of the rifle to be a stalker, was firing not at Euan himself but at the rope that he was swinging on.
At the same moment the impact of the two bullets and the sudden pressure that Euan had exerted on it caused the rope to break.
It did so just as he reached the top of the cliff and, aware that he had now lost the support of the rope, he struggled to find a footing on the rough edge but failed.
The broken rope swinging down added to his instability and, clutching wildly at the air he fell over the edge of the cliff, crashing down onto the rocks beneath.
Love Joins the Clans Page 11