The Secret of the Glen Read online

  The Duke’s carriage looked far more luxurious than any vehicle she had ever seen, with soft padded cushions and a fur rug which at first she thought would be unnecessary for the warm days of late August.

  And the silver accoutrements were breathtaking!

  So were the four horses that drew it and the outriders in their dark green livery and polished crested silver buttons.

  Leona thought that the servants seemed surprised that she was alone, but after some initial astonished glances, they looked after her with care and consideration and when they stayed the night at a Posting inn, every possible arrangement was made for her comfort.

  She fell asleep that night feeling well looked after and keen to meet her benefactor who had made it all possible

  *

  Ardness was a small County on the East coast of Scotland between Inverness and Ross.

  Leona had looked it up on the map and saw that, travelling from Edinburgh, they would have to move some way North before they crossed the boundary into Ardness.

  She knew on the second day, when they set off early in the morning, that the roads were rougher than they had been previously and the country was certainly wilder.

  Now there were only a few hamlets and they would drive for perhaps an hour without seeing anyone on the purple moors or encountering a traveller on the road.

  But it was so lovely that to Leona it was a dream come true.

  ‘No wonder Mama missed Scotland!’ she thought to herself and knew it was even more beautiful than she had imagined.

  It was only after they had stopped for a delicious picnic luncheon for which Leona had found that far too much food was provided, that the weather changed.

  There had been a slight wind during the morning, but now it began to blow in roughly and penetratingly from the sea and there were scuds of torrential rain, making her feel sorry for the horses.

  They had been climbing for the best part of an hour and now they were driving on a narrow road over a treeless and barren moor.

  The wind was so chill that Leona was thankful for the fur rug that she had dismissed as unnecessary only a few days earlier, wishing she had taken from her trunk a warm shawl to put around her shoulders.

  She pulled the rug a little closer around her and hoped that the wind and rain would not delay them until it was dark.

  She had a feeling it would be very eerie to be on the moors when darkness fell and she was sure that the lanterns on the carriage would give an inadequate light by which to find their way.

  The wind seemed to be increasing.

  She thought that the two coachmen sitting on the box must by this time be wet through and in danger of losing their tall hats with every violent gust that shook the carriage, almost as if it was a rat in the mouth of a terrier.

  After the sunshine and warmth of the day before, it seemed extraordinary to Leona that the elements could have changed so completely.

  Then, as they reached what seemed to be the very top of a steep incline, there was a sudden grinding sound.

  The carriage stopped with a shivering jerk and she gave a cry of fear.

  *

  Dazed, Leona came slowly back to consciousness to the sound of voices.

  Someone was giving instructions while she could hear the horses plunging about and the coachmen talking to them soothingly.

  She realised that she was no longer in the carriage, but lying on the ground and she opened her eyes to see a man’s face not far from hers.

  She looked up at him hazily, thinking that she had never seen him before but even in her confused state unable to stop the thought going through her head that he was exceedingly good-looking.

  Then he said quietly,

  “You are all right. Don’t be frightened!”

  “I-I am – not,” she tried to say, but she was conscious that her forehead hurt and it was difficult to speak.

  “I think I had better get the lady to The Castle,” she heard the man say, who she now realised was kneeling beside her, “I will send my men to help you right the carriage and take the horses to my stables.”

  “Very good, my Lord.”

  The man who had spoken was undoing the Cairngorm brooch on his left shoulder, which held his plaid.

  “Do you think you can sit up?” he asked Leona. “If you can, I will wrap my plaid around you and it will keep you warm. The quickest way to get you out of the wind and rain is on my horse.”

  He put his arm around Leona as he spoke and helped her to sit up.

  He covered her head and shoulders with his plaid, then, taking her up in his arms, walked a few paces to where she saw a horse was standing, held by a groom.

  Very gently he lifted her onto the saddle, giving instructions as he did so to one of the dismounted out-riders to hold her steady. Then he sprang lithely up behind her and put his arm around her.

  Because she was still feeling bemused and dazed by the blow to her head, Leona found it difficult to realise what had happened, until, as they started to move, she looked back.

  She saw the Duke’s carriage lying drunkenly against the verge of the road and the horses already free of their shafts.

  Then the violence of the wind made her turn her face towards the man who held her and she laid her cheek against his shoulder.

  She felt his arm tighten and he said,

  “It is not far to my castle, but it would have taken far too long to fetch a carriage to convey you there.”

  “I-I am very – grateful to you,” Leona managed to say.

  “It was fortunate that I saw the accident.”

  They rode on for some way with the wind blowing the cold even through the thickness of the plaid, so that Leona was grateful for the warmth of her rescuer’s body.

  Instinctively she moved a little nearer to him. Then, as she glanced up, she saw that there was a smile on his lips above a very firm chin.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I think I must have – hurt my head – against the side of the – window,” Leona answered. “But I don’t think – there is any – other damage.”

  “We will make sure of that when I get you safely home,” he replied.

  Even as he spoke, the wind seemed to sweep away the words from his lips and Leona thought it wiser not to talk.

  They were descending a hill and he held her firmly to prevent her from slipping forward. There was something comforting, she thought, in the strength of his arm. She felt safe and protected, something she had not known since her father died.

  ‘This is an adventure!’ she told herself bravely and she wished she could tell her mother what had happened.

  She wondered who her rescuer was.

  He had been addressed as my Lord, so she was aware that he was someone of importance even though, she told herself, she would have known it anyway.

  There was something authoritative in the way he had spoken and the manner in which he had taken command of the situation.

  ‘How lucky he was there!’ she thought.

  It would have been exceedingly uncomfortable if she had been forced to spend the night on the moors with the wind blowing colder every moment.

  They must have reached the bottom of the incline and now the horse was moving quicker and they seemed to be out of the wind.

  Leona raised her face a little so that she could see and she realised that they had passed through a pair of wrought iron gates with a lodge on either side of them.

  “We are home,” the man who held her said. “You will be able to rest and we can find out if there are any bones broken.”

  “I, promise you – it is not as – bad as that,” Leona replied.

  “I hope not!” he answered.

  The horse came to a standstill and Leona, lifting her head from his shoulder, saw they were outside a heavy oak door.

  She looked up and saw the walls of a castle rising above her, but there was little time for observation because servants came hurrying through the open door and one of th
em lifted her gently from the saddle.

  She had, although it seemed absurd, almost a feeling of regret because she must leave the comfort and protection of the arms that had held her.

  But before she had time to think, he had taken her from the servant and was carrying her into The Castle.

  “P-please – I am sure I can – walk,” Leona protested. “There is no need,” he answered firmly. “I cannot believe you wish to negotiate a flight of stairs at this moment.”

  He started to climb them as he spoke and Leona saw the walls were covered with pictures, shields, pikes, claymores and flags.

  ‘It is exactly,’ she thought with delight, ‘as Mama described what the inside of a Scottish castle was like!’

  Her rescuer carried her without apparently any exertion on his part to the top of the staircase and, as a servant came running up behind him, he said,

  “I will take the lady to the ‘Thistle Bedchamber’.”

  “Aye, my Lord.”

  The servant moved ahead.

  Leona had a quick glimpse of a salon and of the walls of the corridor, also hung with shields and pikes. Then she was carried into a large bedroom and set down on a bed.

  “Fetch Mrs. McCray!”

  “Aye, my Lord.”

  The servant vanished and Leona pushed back the plaid.

  “Thank you – very much,” she said automatically and for the first time she was able to look at her rescuer.

  He was, she thought appraisingly, exceedingly handsome and she saw that he was wearing a kilt in a tartan she did not recognise.

  It was a pleasing mixture of blues with a red line echoed in the plaid with which he had covered her. A silver and leather sporran hung from his waist.

  He drew his bonnet from his dark head and stood looking at her with a smile on his firm lips.

  “You don’t look very much the worse for your accident, but we must take no chances.”

  “I assure you that I am very little harmed,” Leona replied, “and I am exceedingly grateful for your kindness in bringing me here.”

  “The pleasure is mine. May I introduce myself? I am Strathcairn.”

  Leona gave a little cry.

  “I have heard of you,” she said, “or at least of your Clan, the McCairns.”

  “I am gratified,” Lord Strathcairn replied. “Will you tell me your name?”

  “Leona Grenville.”

  “Then welcome to Cairn Castle, Miss Grenville. I have gathered that you are a guest of the Duke of Ardness.”

  “I am,” Leona answered, “and I hope His Grace will not be annoyed that I shall be so late in arriving.”

  “It would be impossible for you to reach his castle tonight,” Lord Strathcairn replied, “even if I thought it wise to send you there in one of my own carriages.”

  Leona looked worried and he went on,

  “But I will dispatch a groom to inform His Grace of what has occurred. I feel that whatever damage there has been to your carriage can be repaired by the morning, when you can proceed on your journey.”

  “Thank you,” Leona said. “That is very kind. At the same time I hope it is not causing you a great deal of trouble to let me stay here.”

  “I think you know the answer to that,” Lord Strathcairn said with a smile. “And what I suggest is that you rest for an hour or so and then, if you feel well enough, perhaps you will give me the pleasure of dining with me.”

  As he spoke, there came a knock on the door.

  It opened to reveal an elderly woman.

  She was dressed in black and wore a large bunch of keys hanging from her waist.

  She curtseyed.

  “Ye sent for me, my Lord?”

  “Yes, Mrs. McCray. We have a guest who has had an unfortunate accident. I feel sure I can leave her in your capable hands.”

  “Indeed ye can, my Lord.”

  Lord Strathcairn walked towards the door.

  “I shall be very disappointed, Miss Grenville,” he said as he reached it, “if you do not feel well enough to dine with me this evening.”

  Mrs. McCray bustled towards the bed.

  “What happened to ye, miss? Are ye hurt?”

  “No, indeed. The carriage turned over,” Leona replied, “and I must have hit my head against the window. It knocked me unconscious for a few minutes, but that was all.” “It’s quite enough!” Mrs. McCray cried. “The road can be awful treacherous at any time of the year. And, as I’ve said many a time, in the winter it’s a real death-trap.”

  Talking away about the iniquities of the road and the difficulties of travel, Mrs. McCray applied her own remedies to the bruise on Leona’s forehead.

  She then fetched her a warm drink containing honey and what Leona suspected was a spoonful of whisky. After that, feeling relaxed from the toddy, she took off her clothes and settled down for a proper rest.

  It was certainly the warm drink that made her sleep and she awoke to find the maids bringing in hot water for a bath and unpacking her trunk which had been brought to The Castle from the overturned coach.

  She could still hear the wind whistling outside the windows, but a fire had been lit in her room and there was something very luxurious about bathing in front of it in brown water.

  Her mother had often described to her how soft and delightful the peat made the water in Scotland and how good it was for the skin.

  As she washed herself, Leona knew her mother had not exaggerated.

  She had a small choice of gowns in which to dine with Lord Strathcairn and she chose one she had made herself. It was pale pink and had a bertha of old lace that had embellished quite a number of her mother’s gowns over the years.

  It was not as full as she would have liked, but the tight bodice revealed the gentle curves of her figure and the slimness of her waist.

  When she had arranged her hair, she hoped that his Lordship would not think her too dowdy a guest.

  “Ye look very nice, miss, if I may say so,” Mrs. McCray said encouragingly, as she led Leona down the wide corridor along which Lord Strathcairn had carried her.

  Now she could admire the shields and pikes on the walls and, when they reached the doorway into the salon, she saw that it was a very fine room.

  On the first floor, as were all the main rooms in a Scottish castle, it was large, but at the same time there was a comfort about it which made it not in the least awe-inspiring.

  There were bookcases covering one wall, a number of pictures and a large stone fireplace. The mullioned windows, which reached almost to the ceiling, had comfortable window seats covered with velvet cushions in front of them.

  Lord Strathcairn was waiting by the hearth and, as he came forward to greet her, Leona thought she had never seen a man look so impressive.

  His kilt in the McCairn tartan was very becoming, and his sporran was far more elaborate than the one he had worn earlier in the day. His jacket was embellished with silver buttons and there was a froth of lace at his throat.

  He wore the tartan hose of his Clan and as he moved Leona had a glimpse of the topaz-topped skean dhu on his left leg.

  “You are better, Miss Grenville?” Lord Strathcairn asked. “I am quite well, thanks to your Lordship’s kindness,” Leona replied.

  “I am very relieved to hear that.”

  “I am so impressed by your castle, my Lord. May I please look out of the window?”

  She did not wait for his permission, but walked towards the window, then gave a cry of delight.

  Her bedroom overlooked the garden, but from the windows of the salon she saw stretched in front of her a large loch.

  There were hills all around it, except in the far distance where they divided and she guessed even before Lord Strathcairn told her that from there the river ran down to the sea. The sun had sunk, but despite the earlier treacherous weather there was still a glow in the sky and the water of the loch was touched with gold.

  The hills surrounding it were blue in the shadows and there were strange ligh
ts on them, giving them an almost indescribable beauty.

  “It’s so lovely! The loveliest place I have ever seen!” Leona said with a note of awe in her voice.

  “It makes me very happy to hear you say that,” Lord Strathcairn replied.

  “This castle must be very old?”

  “Parts of it were built over seven hundred years ago,” he answered.

  “Then there is a great history behind it?”

  “I shall be only too glad to tell you some of it, but I must not bore you and I am interested to know why you are in Scotland.”

  He handed her a glass of sherry and Leona told him,

  “My parents are dead, but, shortly before my mother died, she wrote to the Duchess of Ardness asking her to look after me.”

  “The Duchess?” Lord Straithcairn queried. “But she also is dead.”

  “Yes, I know that now,” Leona replied. “The Duke told me so in his letter, but he has invited me just the same to make my home with him.”

  She was aware that Lord Straithcairn stiffened.

  Then he said in a strange tone she had not heard him use before,

  “To make your home with him? I thought perhaps you were just a guest coming North for a short visit.”

  “No, indeed,” Leona replied. “I have nowhere else to go, but I would not wish to be an encumbrance upon His Grace and perhaps, if he tires of having me at The Castle, I could find employment of some sort in Edinburgh.”

  “I think that extremely unlikely,” Lord Straithcairn said sharply. “At the same time I don’t like – ”

  He stopped, but Leona felt it was with an effort.

  She looked at him enquiringly and as she did so the butler announced,

  “Dinner is served, my Lord!”

  The dining room, which was on the same floor, was almost as impressive as the salon. The table was loaded with silver ornaments and large goblets, which Leona was certain were of great antiquity.

  The room itself seemed Mediaeval with a heavily carved stone fireplace and high narrow windows stretching to the beamed ceiling.

  They were covered with dark red velvet curtains and, with two candelabra lit on the table, the room seemed warm and, despite its size, cosy.

  Leona looked at the candelabra and gave a faint smile.

  “What is amusing you, Miss Grenville?” Lord Straithcairn asked and she wondered that he was so perceptive as to notice.