60 The Duchess Disappeared Read online

  “Then help me, please help me,” Fiona begged.

  “Of course. I will do anything in my power and I promise you that every report, every paper, every subsequent review of the situation will be in your hands within the next hour or so.”

  Fiona gave him a dazzling smile.

  “Thank you, Mr. McKeith. And now I must give Mary-Rose her tea. Would you like to join us?”

  “I should be very honoured to do so,” Mr. McKeith replied, “and I hope you will ask me another day. But now I not only have a number of instructions from His Grace to be carried out but also yours.”

  “Then we will certainly ask you another time,” Fiona smiled.

  She called Mary-Rose and they went up the stairs hand in hand.

  “This is a very big castle, Aunt Fiona,” Mary-Rose said, “and not a bit like being at home, but I think I am going to be happy here.”

  “I am sure you are, dearest Mary-Rose,” Fiona answered.

  In her heart she sent up a prayer that this might in fact be true.

  She was thinking of Mary-Rose’s optimism when she entered the drawing room to see Lady Morag standing at the end of it, talking possessively in her usual manner to the Duke.

  She was wearing a much smarter gown than she had worn on other occasions, and Fiona had the idea that she was deliberately attempting to outshine the Duke’s English guest.

  There were diamonds glittering in her ears and round her throat. There was also a glitter in her eyes that told Fiona only too clearly of her enmity.

  “Good evening, Miss Windham!” she said as Fiona curtseyed to her. “And how is dear little Mary-Rose? I hope she is getting on with her lessons. I see from the windows of my house that you spend a great deal of time out of doors.”

  “Mary-Rose does some lessons in the schoolroom,” Fiona replied, “but she is also learning while we are out of doors and, because she is an intelligent child, our conversation is often on quite advanced subjects.”

  “How lucky she is to have someone as clever as yourself to teach her,” Lady Morag said.

  It was obvious that she was being sarcastic from the way she looked Fiona up and down as she spoke, as if she was thinking that anybody who was pretty and smartly dressed was unlikely to have any brains in their head.

  Fiona moved towards the Duke and murmured,

  “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  It was only by the greatest effort of will that she prevented herself from looking at him as she spoke.

  She knew if she once met his eyes it would be difficult to look away and she was afraid too that Lady Morag would see the expression of love that she would be unable to suppress.

  “Good evening, Miss Windham,” the Duke replied gravely.

  She told herself that she could hear his love vibrating beneath the simple commonplace words and that he was feeling as she was.

  It was a relief to be able to turn to the Earl and ask animated questions about their fishing expedition.

  “I was more successful this afternoon,” he said. “In fact I have beaten the Duke by catching two salmon to his one.”

  “That is splendid and I must remember to tell Mary-Rose,” Fiona replied.

  Then they chattered on about what Angus had said when they went to visit Rollo.

  “I am sure you ought not to go near that dog,” the Earl said in a concerned manner, “Supposing he savages you? I don’t think I could bear it!”

  “I am sure Mary-Rose will protect me,” Fiona said lightly.

  She knew by the expression in the Earl’s eyes that the Duke had been right when he said that he admired her.

  She continued talking to the Earl, although she knew that she was encouraging him almost cruelly in his feelings towards her. But she dared not talk to the Duke for fear that they would betray themselves to Lady Morag.

  Even so, she was certain that the Scottish woman was slightly suspicious, for after dinner when they withdrew into the drawing room, she said,

  “It is difficult for me to bring up the subject again, Miss Windham, but I cannot help feeling that you must find life here very dull and it would be wise to consider returning to the South as soon as possible!”

  “I have very few ties in the South,” Fiona answered. “I lived with my sister and brother-in-law and so my home was theirs. Now all I have left is Mary-Rose.”

  “I can understand you loving the child,” Lady Morag said, “but of course her position here will alter very considerably if the Duke should marry again.”

  “I understood that that is impossible – for the moment at any rate,” Fiona replied.

  “There is always the chance that the Duchess’s body will be discovered,” Lady Morag said, “in which case he will be free.”

  There was something in the way she spoke that made Fiona glance at her sharply.

  Then insidiously the idea came to her that Lady Morag had a clue to the Duchess’s whereabouts.

  “As you live here, Lady Morag,” she said aloud, “then surely you have some idea about what happened to His Grace’s wife. It seems so extraordinary that she could disappear without a trace.”

  “Very extraordinary!” Lady Morag agreed. “But, of course, they were very unhappy together.”

  Again it seemed to Fiona that there was an undercurrent beneath Lady Morag’s words, as if she hinted that in the circumstances the Duke was glad to be rid of her.

  “The Earl told me that some people believe that the Duke was responsible for the Duchess’s disappearance,” Fiona ventured, “but knowing the character of my brother-in-law, I cannot believe that any relative of his could commit such a horrifying crime.”

  “Perhaps you have not had much experience of men and women when they are emotionally roused,” Lady Morag said significantly.

  Fiona’s eyes widened.

  “Are you suggesting, Lady Morag, that the Duke is guilty?”

  She thought, as she spoke, that at least she was pushing the older woman into the open, forcing her to express her opinion of the situation.

  Lady Morag gave an affected laugh.

  “Really, Miss Windham! What an extraordinary question! Of course I would not think anything derogatory of the dear Duke! At the same time, if such ideas frighten you, perhaps you would be wise not to stay here unprotected.”

  Fiona laughed and it was a more genuine sound than Lady Morag’s laughter.

  “Now you are being dramatic, Lady Morag,” she said. “I assure you I am not afraid that anyone would want to murder me! At the same time I hope for Mary-Rose’s sake that the Duke is free to marry again. I don’t think a woman, however exceptional, is really capable of being a good Chieftain.”

  She saw an expression in Lady Morag’s eyes that told her, although it seemed too fantastic to be credible, that her suspicions were right.

  Lady Morag could, she was sure, reveal the whereabouts of her sister or at least give a clue to them if she was certain that the Duke, once free, would marry her.

  ‘Perhaps I am being ultra-perceptive or perhaps, because I mind so tremendously, I am imagining things,’ Fiona thought to herself.

  Later that night when she was in bed she went over the conversations she had had with Lady Morag, recalling every inflection of her voice and the expressions on her face.

  She was now certain, quite certain, that Lady Morag knew a great deal more than she had told anybody and that she was also determined by every means in her power to capture the Duke.

  ‘That is one thing she will never do.’ Fiona thought. ‘I will not only fight to set him free, but I will fight for him. I love him! He is mine! Mine for all eternity!’

  Chapter Six

  Mrs. Meredith helped Fiona off with her evening gown.

  “You looked real pretty this evening, miss,” she said. “They all commented on it downstairs.”

  “Thank you,” Fiona replied and smiled.

  Then, as Mrs. Meredith carried the gown towards the wardrobe, she asked,

  “Was Lady M
orag fond of her sister the Duchess?”

  Mrs. Meredith stopped and turned round to look at Fiona as if she was surprised at the question.

  Then she answered,

  “She were indeed, miss. They were inseparable, you might say, which was why after her Ladyship’s husband died the old Duke offered her a house in the grounds.”

  Fiona could not think of Lady Morag being devoted to a younger sister.

  There was something hard and inflexible about her, except where her feelings towards the Duke were concerned.

  “If you ask me,” Mrs. Meredith went on, as if following the train of her own thoughts, “Lady Morag and Her Grace were too close. I used to feel somehow they were makin’ His Grace the odd man out. But there, as my old mother used to say, ‘two’s company, three’s none’!”

  She took Fiona’s gown to the wardrobe and when she had done so, Fiona said,

  “Have you any ideas, Mrs. Meredith, as to what happened to the Duchess? Someone must have seen her the day she disappeared.”

  “I saw her, miss, and waited on Her Grace, as I always did.”

  “Did she seem quite normal – not upset or anything?”

  “Not in the least, miss. Chattering away, she was, about a ball that was to be given here the followin’ week.”

  “A ball,” Fiona murmured as if to herself.

  She was thinking how The Castle seemed made for such festivities and to entertain a large number of people.

  Mr. McKeith had shown Mary-Rose and her the ballroom, which he said was originally called the ‘Chief’s Room’ because it was where the Chief of the Clan gathered his Clansmen when they planned their offensives either against the English or against other Clans they were at war with.

  The late Duke had renovated it as he had the other parts of The Castle and it now had a beauty and a grandeur that Fiona was sure made it very different from the way it had been in the days when it had been a closely fortified room with doubtless only arrow-slits to let in the light.

  “Her Grace was very undecided as to which of her beautiful gowns she would wear,” Mrs. Meredith was continuing. “At first she thought she’d wear white, so that the Rannock diamonds would sparkle on her dark hair, but Lady Morag felt that she should wear green. ‘Green!’ she objected in my presence. ‘But I think it’s unlucky. Whenever I wear that colour I seem to have a row with Aiden’. ‘Green will suit you best,’ Lady Morag said firmly, ‘and the emeralds will look magnificent with it’.”

  “I thought Lady Morag was very superstitious,” Fiona murmured, remembering the fuss she had made about witchcraft.

  Mrs. Meredith shrugged her shoulders.

  “Her Ladyship says one thing one moment and another the next. But there, Her Grace never had a chance to prove whether green was unlucky or no.”

  When Mrs. Meredith left her, Fiona sat thinking.

  Was there any significance to be found in the fact that Lady Morag, while loving her sister, had apparently not minded when she quarrelled with her husband?

  It was perhaps in character with her obvious possessiveness and yet Fiona could not help thinking that there was something deeper behind the information she had received from Mrs. Meredith.

  ‘Whatever I do,’ she told herself, ‘I must not let the servants think I am spying or being over-inquisitive, but their point of view is interesting and I doubt if anyone in The Castle has asked them what they felt about the Duchess’s disappearance.’

  She could not imagine the Duke discussing such personal matters with his valet and she was quite certain that Mr. McKeith, in his position, would think it beneath his dignity to gossip with the staff.

  ‘I must find out all I can,’ Fiona told herself, ‘but I must be very very discreet about it.’

  As she climbed into bed, she was thinking how wonderful it would be if she could discuss with the Duke everything she heard and everything she thought.

  But she knew he had been right when he said that they must be very careful and she was sure that even the walls in The Castle had eyes as well as ears.

  ‘But I want to see him,’ she told herself and felt an irrepressible need for him.

  It was not only that she yearned for the security of his arms and the touch of his lips. She knew already in so short a time that her love was much deeper than that.

  There was an affinity between them that made her feel when they were together that they were complete – one person instead of two, joined by their minds, their instincts and the very beat of their hearts, until it seemed to Fiona as if she had no life of her own apart from him.

  “I love – you!” she whispered into her pillow and wondered how they could go through life separated by a dead woman.

  *

  Mary-Rose was resting after luncheon and Fiona was playing very softly on the piano in the schoolroom when the door opened and the Earl came in.

  “I was looking for you,” he began. “I heard your music and it guided me here.”

  Fiona took her hands from the piano keys and laughed.

  “You are becoming very poetical, my Lord.”

  “You know the reason,” the Earl replied.

  Fiona rose.

  “Where is the Duke?” she asked to change the subject.

  “He has a crowd of old men, wrapped up like bundles in their tartans, who have come down from the North to consult him on some knotty problem they cannot solve for themselves.”

  “I think the Clansmen’s faith in their chief is very touching,” Fiona remarked, as if she challenged the somewhat disparaging note in the Earl’s voice.

  “It is extraordinary how soft your heart is for people like that and how hard where I am concerned,” he replied.

  “As you are here, let’s talk about something interesting,” Fiona suggested.

  “I can imagine nothing more interesting than you.”

  Fiona threw out her hands with a little gesture of helplessness.

  “Please, you are making things very difficult for me.”

  The Earl looked at her and then said quietly,

  “I suppose I had better face the fact that you are in love with Aiden.”

  Fiona looked at him wide-eyed and felt the blood sweep up her face.

  “What do you – mean?”

  “Exactly what I say and don’t bother to deny it. I have seen you together.”

  Fiona clasped her hands.

  “What – am I to – say?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” the Earl replied. “I suppose it was inevitable that such a thing should happen and because I love you both I might even be glad that Aiden has found happiness at last, if it was not such a hopeless situation.”

  “I like you for saying – that,” Fiona said in a low voice.

  “I want a great deal more from you than liking and because I love you, I cannot bear to see you break your heart over Aiden as you are bound to do.”

  “I thought that you might – help him to be – free.”

  “Help him?” the Earl questioned. “I have done everything I can.”

  “There must be something you have missed,” Fiona insisted. “Something so obvious that nobody has thought of it.”

  “Heaven alone knows what it can be.”

  There was silence for a moment and then he said,

  “The best course you can take, if you are sensible, is to marry me and forget Aiden and all the misery that exists here in his castle.”

  “Even if I wanted to marry you,” Fiona answered, “you know that I could not leave Mary-Rose.”

  “I am perfectly prepared to look after her.”

  “Do you think the Rannocks would allow that? It would start up another Clan war.”

  The Earl sighed.

  “Why could I not have met you in the ordinary way in the South and fallen in love with you? I could have persuaded you to marry me before you even set eyes on Aiden.”

  Fiona did not answer and after a moment he went on,

  “I know what you are thinking an
d if you had never seen him I believe I could have made you love me. Where women are concerned they are always bowled over by his looks, his prestige and, of course, his indifference to them. No woman can resist that!”

  He spoke bitterly and Fiona gave a little cry.

  “Please – please,” she pleaded. “I could not bear to spoil your friendship with the Duke, which, as you well know, is the – only thing he has – left.”

  She moved across the room to stand beside the Earl. She put her hand on his arm and said,

  “I admire and respect you for the way you have been so loyal to your friend and, whatever – happens in the – future, he must never – lose you.”

  As if she appealed to something within him that the Earl found slightly embarrassing, he looked away from her.

  Then he said,

  “You are making me into a hero and I like it!”

  Fiona gave a little laugh and took her hand from his arm.

  “Then be a Scottish hero and fight this monstrous mystery. The Scots always enjoy a battle.”

  “What do you know about them?” the Earl queried.

  “Only that since I have been in Scotland I have met two of the finest men that could exist anywhere in the world.”

  “Thank you, even though I come number two on the list,” the Earl said. “And now, about this mystery – how do you suggest we start solving it when the best detectives available have failed?”

  “I wish I knew the answer,” Fiona replied. “But I have been reading the Sheriffs’ and the Police reports and it seems to me that everyone was quite certain that the Duchess left The Castle.”

  “The inside of every part of it was searched thoroughly.”

  “I wonder,” Fiona said. “I cannot help feeling that there was something that was overlooked and I believe the person who could help us, if she wished to do so, is Lady Morag.”

  She obviously startled the Earl, who stared at her in astonishment.

  “Lady Morag?” he repeated. “If she knows anything I should be surprised.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she made such a fuss when it first happened, weeping, wailing, fainting and begging everybody to search the forest, the river, the moors and even insisting on going with some of the search parties of foresters and Clansmen.”