Mairi sat unmoving for a long time in the silent, empty chamber, her eyes not leaving Isobel’s face. Only when the candles on the coffer near her began to smoke and gutter into pools of grease did she stir. Stiffly she rose and went to sit on a stool before the fire, her eyes fixed on the flames.
Macduff visited Isobel later, sitting at her bedside, holding her hands in his. She moved a little, recognising him in the light of the single candle which burned on the table at the far side of the room.
He smiled. ‘Courage, lass.’ His deeply lined face was gentle.
‘Lord Buchan will kill me,’ she whispered.
He shook his head slowly. ‘He knows he shouldn’t have struck you, and there will be other babies soon enough. You must submit to him, lass. No more arguments in the great hall; no more political statements in front of his men. You deserved to be chastised for that.’
‘Chastised!’ She raised her hand painfully to her face. ‘Is that what you call it?’
‘Aye. Chastised.’ He sighed. ‘You’ll have time to recover, Isobel. We’ll be away as soon as the weather breaks. There is much to discuss with the lords of Scotland.’ He looked down at her, and the name of Lord Carrick hung for a moment in the air between them, unspoken.
‘Just so long as you take my husband away,’ she whispered at last.
He smiled. ‘We’ll take him away, lass. Never fear.’
But the snow did not relax its grip. Weeks passed. Slowly Isobel’s young body mended and once more Lord Buchan began to think about his young wife.
The hand on her shoulder was hesitant. ‘Mrs Royland? I’m sorry to disturb you –’
Around her the room was dark save for the candlelight. The undrawn curtains showed a starless night, opaque with fog.
Clare stared up at Sarah blankly.
‘I’m sorry, but Lady Royland is downstairs.’ Sarah glanced round nervously, then switching on the table lamp she went automatically to close the curtains. ‘I wasn’t sure if I should interrupt your meditation. I hope you don’t mind, only she’s been here half an hour …’ She was aware of the dog sitting, ears flattened, in the doorway. Abruptly Casta bounded into the room, tail wagging. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. The atmosphere had cleared.
Slowly Clare stood up. She looked dazed. For a moment she stood staring down at the candle, then she stooped and, picking it up, blew out the flame. ‘Who did you say was here?’ she asked hesitantly, turning to Sarah at last. In the lamplight her face was pale.
‘Lady Royland.’ Sarah was watching her surreptitiously. ‘I’ve given her a glass of sherry and settled her in the drawing room.’
Gillian was dressed in voluminous fuchsia-coloured dungarees. She came straight to the point. ‘I think it is downright dishonest of Paul to try and break the children’s trust. I couldn’t believe it when David told me what was going on.’
Clare sat down opposite her. She felt strangely dissociated. Gillian’s sudden energy did not impress her. ‘I didn’t know about it, either,’ she said wearily. ‘But it is fair, if you think about it. If we can never have children.’
‘Fair!’ Gillian exclaimed. ‘Paul had his share! This is for the kids!’ She moved sideways on the sofa, easing her weight with a groan. ‘Don’t tell me now that Paul is not worried about money. He must be if he’s prepared to take the cash from a baby’s piggy bank!’
Clare smiled. ‘Hardly that, Gill.’
‘As good as.’ Gillian was breathing heavily. ‘So, if he’s not worried, why does he want the money? And don’t tell me it’s just a principle, because I don’t believe it.’
Clare gave a deep sigh. She stood up restlessly. ‘To be absolutely honest I think he must need the money. He wants me to sell Duncairn too.’
‘And are you going to?’
Clare shook her head. ‘No.’ She paused uncomfortably. ‘I’m not being disloyal, it’s just that he demands I sell it, without telling me why he wants the money, and Duncairn isn’t just another asset to be bought and sold like so many shares. It’s part of me.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Does that sound very sentimental?’
‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t be sentimental.’ Gillian sounded comfortably practical. ‘I think Paul has been having things too much his way. It’s time we all said no. I take it you and he had a row last week, and that’s why you didn’t come to the party?’
Clare nodded ruefully. ‘I’m sorry. I just couldn’t face a whole weekend with him.’
Gillian sighed. ‘I can’t say I blame you. Impossible man! I can’t think how you can stay married to him.’ She laughed. ‘No, don’t tell me. No doubt he has hidden charms.’ She reached for her sherry glass. ‘But seriously, Clare. David is worried about him. You don’t think he’s done anything silly in the City, do you? He hasn’t been speculating and losing millions?’
‘I am sure we’d have heard if it was anything like that.’ Clare smiled unhappily.
Gillian sniffed. ‘Well, you’d better warn him. David can’t have the Royland name involved in any scandals.’
‘I thought our dear Member of Parliament was involved with environmental issues. He’s got no interests in the City, surely.’ Clare stooped and threw a log on the fire.
‘Only his father’s shares which they all got. Nothing else. And of course he’s declared his interests there. But his reputation has to be protected. If there were the slightest whiff of dishonesty in the family it could be disastrous for his career.’
‘Well there isn’t.’ Clare flared up suddenly. ‘So stop being so bloody self-righteous! Why doesn’t he stop worrying about Paul and worry about the environment instead? Places like Duncairn, for instance. I’ve had an offer to buy it from an oil company. They want to destroy that beautiful place!’
‘You’ve actually had an offer?’ Gillian echoed. ‘You mean there’s oil there? No wonder Paul wants you to sell it!’
‘I told them there was no question of selling, ever.’ Clare hesitated. ‘They can’t make me, can they?’
‘I don’t think so. But I have an awful feeling that the oil isn’t yours. The government can take it any time they like, can’t they?’ Gillian grimaced. ‘I’ll ask David if you like. He’ll know.’
‘They never wrote back after I turned down their offer, so I hoped the matter was closed.’
Gillian stood up with a groan and put her hand to her back. ‘Well, I hope for your sake it is. I must go. I’m terrified I’m going to drop this child on someone’s carpet. It’s due any second, and they come so quickly …’ She smiled smugly. ‘Take care of yourself, Clare. Don’t let Paul bully you. And tell him to forget about the trust. OK?’
Geoffrey
