Heather Song

by Michael Phillips

  We reached it and knocked on the green door. I had painted it myself just two years ago.

  A fumbling sound came from the other side. A moment later the door swung back. There stood Harvey Nicholls with the blackness of the tunnel behind him.

  “Nicholls!” I exclaimed.

  “Evening to you, Duchess,” he said with a slight bow. “’Tis a pleasure to welcome you home, and an honor to be in your service again.”

  “Thank you, Nicholls.”

  “And welcome back to you, Alicia,” he added. “It’s been a gloomy place without you. That Cruickshank woman’s a bit of raw work, with her nose snooping into other people’s affairs. Campbell keeps to himself saying nothing to nobody, and Farquharson’s letting his supposed power go to his head like he’s the woman’s bloomin’ bodyguard! ’Tis good to have you both back.”

  He reached past us as we stepped inside and pulled the door closed, flipping on his own torch at the same time.

  “Now come, ladies,” he said, “follow me.”

  He turned and led the way through the darkened tunnel with the beam of his light bobbing in front of us. When Alasdair and I had set about to have the place cleaned up of debris, strengthened, reexcavated, and secured with new doors and locks on both ends, we had envisioned walking this way to the shore on bright warm summer days as they had in the early twentieth century. It never occurred to us that one of us would be using it with an invasion army of two in order to infiltrate the ranks of an enemy who had taken control of the castle. But here the three of us were, sneaking through occupied lines in the dead of night!

  We reached the temple at the other end of the tunnel and again felt the night air on our faces.

  It was deathly still and quiet. Even the crows were asleep. The way was easy enough going now, thanks to the wide path we had smoothed and laid with crushed gravel two summers before.

  Suddenly a deafening shot exploded in the night only fifty feet in front of us.

  “Stop, whate’er or whoe’er ye be!” shouted a voice in the darkness, “or the naist ane willna be jist a warnin’!”

  Nicholls spun around as the crows in the trees above erupted in a frenzy.

  “Quickly, both of you into the brush!” he whispered. “Get down and don’t move until I get him away from here. South wing…old servants’ entrance. I’ll wait there.”

  He turned away from us again. “Put yer rifle doon, Farquharson!” he called, marching hurriedly in the direction of the gunfire. “’Tis jist me.”

  “Nicholls, ye auld fool! What are ye doin’ here?” said the gameskeeper as we crouched down in the bracken and trees a few feet off the path. “I could hae shot ye deid!”

  “Then ye’d hae had murder on yer heid!” retorted Nicholls, borrowing one of Olivia’s tactics. We watched anxiously as the outline of our only ally disappeared from sight. “What are ye doin’ oot prowlin’ aboot wi’ a gun?” he added, continuing to walk forward to meet the man.

  “’Tis my ain business, Nicholls.”

  “An’ maybe what I’m aboot is mine. But gie ye maun ken…Alexander Legge called an’ said ane o’ his dogs had gane missin’ an’ spiered o’ me tae keep an eye oot for it.”

  “At one in the bloomin’ mornin’!”

  “’Tis a night dog.”

  “I dinna ken whether tae believe a word ye say, Nicholls. Come on, then, back tae the castle wi’ ye. I’ll hae tae report this tae the mistress in the mornin’.”

  “Wha made ye my watchdog, Farquharson?”

  “Maybe the mistress hersel’. Maybe she doesna trust yer loyalties.”

  “Tell her whate’er ye like, Farquharson. My loyalties are my ain affair an’ I’m nae bothered by her ony mair than I am yer threats. What can she de tae me?”

  “She can aye fire ye.”

  “I dinna think the duchess will be firin’ me onytime soon,” replied Nicholls as the two men walked off, leaving us alone in the night.

  Neither of us dared make a move for several minutes.

  “I think they’re gone,” I whispered at length. “But maybe another minute or two. I don’t want Farquharson emptying his rifle in our direction.”

  “What is he doing shooting at night?” Alicia asked.

  “I don’t know. I would rather not wait to find out.”

  As we waited, the crows finally settled down, silence returned, and the loneliness of the night descended upon us. It didn’t take long before we were both ready to take our chances with Farquharson rather than whatever creatures might be roaming the night. I rose and led the way out of the brush onto the path.

  “I think we had better feel our way without the light,” I said. “I don’t trust him not to start shooting.”

  We made our way along as quickly as we could manage in the dark as the path led along the course of Crannoch Burn where it trickled its way down from the Bin to Seatown. In the distance we heard the thud of a door closing.

  “They must be back inside,” said Alicia.

  “Both of them, I hope. I do not want to encounter Farquharson again!”

  As we approached the castle, my heart began to pound. It was like coming home, though not exactly under the circumstances I might have envisioned. Hardly the triumphant return of a conquering hero! Even in the dark, the silhouette of the imposing edifice loomed ahead with the shadowy outlines of the trees against the faint night sky. A light shone in an upper-floor window. I knew it as the bedroom Alasdair and I had occupied so happily together.

  “I take it that would be Olivia’s room now?” I said.

  “I’m sorry, Marie,” replied Alicia. “She moved all your and Alasdair’s things out immediately. She has been there ever since.”

  We climbed the steep hill out of the valley of the burn, walking up the path of the old laundry. There was Castle Buchan before us.

  We turned toward the west wing and crept along past the kitchen. As slowly as we went, I was still afraid of our steps sounding on the gravel.

  Suddenly a light came on in a ground-floor window only thirty feet away. Almost the same moment we heard the latch.

  Quickly we turned and ran to the edge of the gravel, across the thin border of close-mown grass, ducking behind the trunk of a great beech the moment the bolt clanked back and the door of the kitchen opened behind us.

  Very slowly I poked one eye around the edge of the trunk.

  “Adela! ” I breathed as I saw the outline in the light pouring through the open door. “What is she doing up at this hour?!”

  “She has positively preternatural senses,” whispered Alicia in a voice barely audible. “I’m beginning to think she has second sight, too.”

  “No wonder she and Olivia are birds of a feather!”

  Neither of us dared utter another peep. Adela pulled out a small hand-torch and sent its beam from the entryway 180 degrees to the north, all the way around to the end of the west wing. Something had obviously aroused her attention and I doubted it was only Farquharson’s gun. I ducked behind the tree and we both held our breath. She was less than a hundred feet away. We only hoped she didn’t get it into her mind to conduct a thorough search. The beam from her flashlight flitted back and forth across the gravel and grass, coming right next to us and passing by, broken by the shadow of the tree, then back two or three times in both directions.

  A minute or two later, the door closed again and the bolt slid into place inside.

  I ventured another peep from our hiding place just in time to see the light of the kitchen window go black again.

  “It’s clear,” I said softly. “Let’s go.”

  We darted out and ran on the grass as far as the southern limit of the lawn. We slowed and tiptoed across the gravel drive. As careful as we tried to be, the silence was so deep at one in the morning that the faint crunch of our steps across the gravel was still audible. Reaching the wall, we crept alongside the end of the west wing, then hurried across the opening into the central courtyard to the western wall of the little-u
sed south wing. Its high, windowless wall protected us from the entire rest of the castle, and we crept along in darkness until we reached the southeast corner. Rounding it, we arrived at last at the old door to the nineteenth-century servants’ quarters. I knocked as lightly as possible.

  No reply came.

  Another knock…nothing.

  I thought to try the latch. I was astonished to find that it gave way easily under my touch, without so much as a hint of rust or scraping. I pushed gently. The door swung back noiselessly on its hinges.

  We stepped inside. I closed the door as gently as I could, easing it back into place against its casing without so much as a sound, then s-l-o-w-l-y released the latch, keeping my hand carefully on it until I was sure no inadvertent clunk or clank would betray us.

  Now we truly found ourselves in pitch blackness.

  “Where should we go?” asked Alicia.

  “What are you asking me for?” I said. “I’ve been gone a year. I thought you were leading this expedition.”

  “Me—you own the place!”

  “I feel like a burglar, not a duchess. Actually,” I added, “I’m not sure I even know where we are.”

  We didn’t have long to wait. A beam of light came bobbing down the stairs directly in front of us. To our great relief, at last Nicholls appeared.

  “I am sorry about the wait,” he said. “That Farquharson was a bit of a bother. This way, ladies, I will escort you to your quarters.”

  We followed our unlikely squire up the narrow staircase, and soon found ourselves in a small but serviceable room. I had myself been in this portion of the castle only two or three times. The rooms hadn’t been used in three-quarters of a century. A musty aroma of age and mildew clung to the walls. Yet belying what our nostrils told us, there sat two beds made up with fresh linens, pillows, and duvets. Folded towels were supplied on the top of each, and a small table held a lamp, a pitcher of water, glasses, cups, a water-cooker, a bowl of fruit and biscuits, and all the necessary supplies for tea.

  “Nicholls, my goodness!” I exclaimed. “This is lovely. Accommodations fit for the queen herself.”

  “’Tis hardly worthy of your homecoming, Your Grace, but perhaps for a temporary government in exile, I hope you will be able to manage.”

  “We will manage, but how did you manage it?”

  “By stealth, my lady,” he replied. “When Miss Forbes brought me into her confidence two days ago outside Slorach’s Hardware, I began laying in stores—now a pillow, now a blanket, an electric heater. I got Campbell to help me lug the two mattresses and heater from storage and we were fortunate not to be seen. Then last night after the castle was asleep, I managed to creep in and clean the room and make the beds and lubricate the door and hinges to make certain we would not be heard.”

  “I am touched and deeply appreciative of your efforts,” I said. “Did you tell Campbell what it was about?”

  “I hope I judged the man right, my lady…I did indeed. You will hardly believe the light that flashed in his eye. He was a boy again, taking up his claymore to march with the bonnie prince! He’s one of your men, Duchess!”

  “Bless the dear man!” I said.

  “But I made him promise not to tell his wife,” added Nicholls. “You can never be too sure of the talk that goes around a kitchen. Mrs. Urquhart has a powerful hold over women.”

  “I must say, these beds appear laid out by a professional!”

  “My mum made sure her sons as well as her daughters could keep house,” Nicholls said, smiling. I had almost forgotten his killer smile.

  “Then we owe her our gratitude as well.”

  “I do wish the accommodations might have been better, my lady,” added Nicholls, “but as things stand at the far end, I fear we have little choice. The distance is enough that you will not be heard. Being an interior room the light will not be seen. It is spartan, but I hope you will not be here long. You have supplies for tea, some fruit and cheese and biscuits. The loo and tub down the corridor are in working order and I hope clean enough even for two ladies until the castle is yours again.”

  “Thank you, Nicholls, again…for everything. We could not do this without you.”

  “I will come to you as soon as I am able in the morning for whatever may be your instructions. Again, my lady, let me say welcome home, and that I am pleased to be back in your service.”

  “Thank you, Nicholls, very much.”

  The good man departed, leaving Alicia and me alone, feeling a little like housebreakers. At the same time we were revived and energized by the successful completion of our clandestine siege.

  “This is exciting!” I said, sitting down on one of the beds. “I wish I had a harp—I would play a victory ballad! When was the last time you spoke with Mr. Crathie?”

  “Earlier today. I told him what we were going to try to do.”

  “Did he have any other instructions?”

  “Only to call him day or night with any news.”

  “Then I will,” I said.

  I took out the mobile phone he had given me and auto-rang the number.

  “Mr. Crathie,” I said. “I’m sorry it’s so late…it’s Marie—everything went fine. We’re in!”

  “Undetected?” he asked groggily.

  “We believe so. Nicholls was spotted, but not Alicia or me. We’re in a little-used wing where Nicholls set up sleeping quarters for us.”

  “Good, excellent. Get some sleep. I shall be in touch tomorrow, or possibly the next day. The worst of it is behind us. I must say I am greatly relieved. If Mrs. Urquhart sees you now, there’s nothing she can do. Good work! Don’t worry about your things at the hotel, I will bring them. But don’t leave the castle. We must keep you there until your position is secure.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  In Castle Buchan

  Hark when the night is falling

  Hear! The pipes are calling,

  Loudly and proudly calling,

  Down thro’ the glen.

  There where the hills are sleeping,

  Now feel the blood a-leaping.

  Nigh as the spirits of the old Highland men.

  —“Scotland the Brave”

  I don’t know what time we finally got to sleep, probably not until after 3:00 a.m. Alicia and I were so keyed up at first that sleep was the farthest thing from our minds. In the intoxication of our success, and knowing we were out of earshot, we began to get silly—two schoolgirls again, only this time at the beginning of summer after a long absence. I can’t even remember what we talked about, but after the tension and ordeal of the last week, following so closely on the heels of my father’s long decline and eventual death, it felt so good to laugh again with a friend.

  When I began to come to myself after a sound sleep, the room was still pitch black, as how could it not be with no windows. I fumbled for my watch, then heard a voice.

  “Are you awake?” whispered Alicia.

  “I am,” I said. “So if we both are, let’s get a light on. What time is it?”

  “A little after ten,” replied Alicia. “I woke up a few minutes ago.”

  It took some feeling about in the dark, but we soon had the lamp and electric heater on and water boiling and tea brewing and plans being made for who would take the first bath.

  “What is the state of my studio and the Music Room?” I asked.

  “They’re about the same,” answered Alicia. “At least when I was here, she hadn’t made any changes, except getting rid of your harps. She rarely uses that room. What are you thinking?”

  “I am thinking that if we don’t hear anything from Mr. Crathie by midafternoon, what do we have to be afraid of? I would like to reclaim my right to that room at the very least. If this is an infiltration campaign, that will be our beachhead. You are probably still more familiar with the passageways and stairways than I am— Can you get us there from here without detection?”

  “I am pretty sure that we can go from here up to the third floo
r, then across through the storage loft through the east wing, then down the supply staircase to the first floor using the library stairs—the back staircase, I mean, not the main one—and through the library and across to the Music Room and your studio. As long as no one is using the laundry or library.”

  “I doubt Olivia, Adela, Farquharson, or Campbell spend much time in the library,” I said. “What about my harps? You mentioned they’re in a storeroom?”

  “Down in the basement below the east wing.”

  “That might be more difficult, then…unless we can get Nicholls to help. He can still come and go.”

  “If she saw him carrying or wheeling a harp about, Olivia would be down on him in a flash. I only hope your harps are still there. I’ve been worried she might sell them or even give them away.”

  “She wouldn’t dare!”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  “Then that decides it,” I said. “At least one of my harps comes back to the studio, and today!”

  After baths and the most exquisite breakfast of tea and cheese and oatcakes, I was ready to take the next step in this campaign.

  Nicholls came to us sometime after eleven. I told him that I wanted to retrieve one or both of my midsized harps from the storage room and have them brought to my studio. Could he manage it somehow?

  “I believe so, my lady. I chanced to get wind that Mrs. Urquhart is going to Crannoch early in the afternoon.”

  “Will she want you to drive her?”

  “’Tis doubtful, my lady. She mostly drives herself. I’ve become ‘persona non grata,’ as I believe they say. I could bring the harp up then. I’d have to take it outside, around the corner, and to the service elevator. I might be seen. Cruickshank watches my every move.”

  “We will take that chance. If she sees you, what will it hurt?”