The Loveless Marriage Page 4
He knew that there would be at least six pipers playing a welcome to him as Chieftain.
He was not mistaken.
The welcome he received from his Clansmen and the Elders, who were waiting for him, was very touching.
He apologised for having been away for so long.
However, he pointed out it was getting late in the evening and he was in fact tired after what had been a four day voyage from London.
He promised that he would see them the next morning and hear all they had to say to him.
They agreed immediately and then he walked up the steps and in through the great door, where his kilted servants were waiting for him.
He greeted Donald, who was in charge of the Household and, having shaken hands with the rest, he thanked the pipers for their excellent music.
He went up the stairs to the large sitting room that had always been used by his father.
There was a portrait of him in his kilt and sporran over the mantelpiece.
The room was lined with books and there were three very high windows reaching almost to the ceiling, which enabled him to look out over the garden below.
He could see the carefully arranged and tended beds bright with flowers as far as the wall that surrounded the garden.
Beyond it was a short stretch of rather rough land and then the bay, in front of which The Castle was situated.
Further North there was the mouth of the river and a fishing village.
The Castle was backed by trees extending on each side of it.
It was the only building overlooking the bay and beyond was the sea, stretching out to a misty horizon.
As the Earl looked at it, he knew no other view he had ever seen in Europe or in Ireland could compare with its beauty and the beauty of his Castle and the moors behind it which he owned.
‘I am home!’ he told himself. ‘Never again must I stay away for so long.’
He had the feeling that he was desperately needed, although he could not think why.
Scotland had always been part of his life and a part of himself.
He felt that there was a special need for his return which was personal and unconnected with the King’s visit.
‘I expect,’ he thought as he turned away, ‘that I shall be told about it all too soon.’
The Scotsman who had acted as his valet ever since he was a small boy was waiting for him in the Chieftain’s bedroom.
It was where his father had slept and his ancestors before him.
The huge four-poster bed was hung with crimson curtains and the pattern of the carpet on the floor was that of the McBrara tartan.
By the time the Earl had changed for dinner it was almost dark.
He went into the large dining room, which could easily hold fifty guests.
A place was laid for him at the top of the table where his father had always sat.
After Donald and two footmen had waited on him, he heard the first strains of the pipes coming down the passage.
The sound was almost deafening as the piper swept into the room, encircling the table three times.
He then stopped behind the Earl’s chair.
In front of him on the table was a small silver cup with whisky in it.
He handed it to the piper, who took it and toasted the Earl, saying in Gaelic,
“Stainte Va.”
“Thank you, Jock,” the Earl replied. “I shall look forward to hearing you play for me tomorrow, when I anticipate members of the Clan will be calling to see me.”
“They’ll have a lot to say to you, my Lord,” Jock replied.
The Earl knew that this was undoubtedly true.
He thought with a sigh that, just like his father, he must listen to innumerable complaints however insignificant.
There would be no chance of escaping as he had been away for so long.
At the same time what lay ahead did not keep him awake when he went to bed soon after dinner.
He climbed into the huge four-poster bed.
As he did so, he asked himself if it was really possible that he should take the place that his father had held for over twenty years.
‘I must try not to make too many mistakes,’ the Earl thought.
Then he remembered the most important thing he had to do before all others.
He must choose those Clansmen who should represent the Clan when the King arrived in Edinburgh.
There would most undoubtedly be a certain amount of disappointment and jealousy.
Nevertheless what most mattered was that the McBraras should take their rightful place as one of the oldest Scottish Clans.
The Clan, of which his father had been so proud, went back to the Battle of Agincourt in the year 1415.
It was there that the first Earl had received the title for the gallant way in which he and his men had fought against the French.
It was impossible not to be proud of the history of the Clan that followed down the ages.
As the Earl fell asleep, he was telling himself that he must build up his Clan to an even greater importance than it had achieved already.
*
In the morning he was awoken, before he was even called, by the sound of the piper as he walked round the Castle.
The Earl lay in bed listening with the sunshine streaming between the curtains over the window.
Suddenly he felt a new happiness seep over him.
It was a feeling that gave him strength as if he knew that he would need it.
He dressed quickly and went to have his breakfast in a small room that opened out of the dining room.
There was a delicious choice of dishes awaiting him and there was salmon from the river and fresh white fish from the sea.
A number of other dishes came from the Home Farm on the Castle estate.
He started his breakfast, as he always had when he was in Scotland, with porridge.
It was waiting for him in the wooden bowl that he had always used since he was a child.
He stood while he ate it and almost laughed at himself.
It was an age-old Scottish tradition that porridge must be eaten standing and not sitting down so that he would be ready in case he was attacked by another Clan.
The Earl knew that it was what the servants who were waiting on him would expect and he had no wish to disappoint them.
Then, as he was finishing his second cup of coffee, Donald came to his side.
“The Laird of MacSteel be here to see you, my Lord, and begs that you’ll give him a few minutes of your time afore you see the other people who be already waitin’ outside.”
“The Laird of MacSteel!” the Earl exclaimed, thinking that this was very unusual.
He was well aware that even so early in the morning there would already be a queue of Elders and Clansmen, besides Heaven knows who else, all wanting a wee word with him.
Their ‘wee words’ would be lengthy and often extremely boring.
Of course, as his father would have done, he must see them.
What he had not expected was that the Laird of MacSteel himself should call so early or, for that matter, at all.
He remembered him well, an intelligent and most interesting man who governed his Clan extremely well.
Despite all the stories of mutual hostility in the past, the Laird had been quite friendly with his father.
The Earl put down his cup.
“Of course I will see the Laird,” he said. “At the same time I hope that his visit will not take too long.”
He had risen to his feet and glanced out of the window as he spoke.
He could see that there was a great number of people in the drive and some had actually come in carriages.
Without him saying any more, he walked from the dining room and into the sitting room, where he knew that Donald would have put the Laird for this occasion.
The Clansmen he would receive in the Chieftain’s room, which was on the ground floor.
This was a large room hung with st
ags’ heads and where any formality from a ball to a Council of Elders took place.
The Laird, wearing the MacSteel tartan, was standing in front of the fireplace.
The Earl walked towards him and held out his hand.
“It is nice to see you again,” he began, “but somewhat of a surprise.”
“I thought that was what you would say, my Lord,” the Laird replied, “but I had to come the moment you arrived for the simple reason that we are together involved in a very difficult situation.”
The Earl raised his eyebrows and, indicating an armchair, sat down in one beside it.
“I thought that I should come home to a great deal of trouble,” he said, “but I did not think it would be with you.”
“What I have come to tell you and I am not exaggerating,” the Laird replied, “is that if we are not very careful, our Clans will be at open war with each other as they have been in the past.”
The Earl looked at him in some surprise.
“I cannot understand what you are saying.”
“I am telling you here and now, my Lord,” the Laird replied, “that the animosity between the MacSteels and the McBraras has become so intense and so violent that no fewer than ten men of your Clan have lost their lives.”
The Earl made a sound of astonishment, but the Laird went on,
“Three have been badly wounded and I believe that the number of your Clan who have been injured is very large.”
The Earl stared at the Laird as if he could not believe what he was saying.
Then the older man continued,
“We have both, on each side of the border, lost an enormous number of sheep and cattle but I admit quite frankly that your losses are greater than ours.”
“What is the reason for all this?” the Earl asked. “I must make it clear to you that I had no idea that this was happening.”
“It has been growing steadily day by day, week by week and month by month,” the Laird answered. “And you know as well as I do that, when a Scot becomes really angry, it is very difficult to prevent him from expressing that anger physically.”
The Earl nodded, knowing that this was the truth.
“I must admit,” the Laird said, “that it is more than partly the fault of my own people and of one man in particular. He is very clever and very dangerous, but it is impossible to prove that the majority of these crimes have been instigated by him.”
“You mean,” the Earl answered, “that he has stirred up your people against mine until they want to fight as they did many times in the past.”
“That is so,” the Laird replied, “and I am appalled at the complaints I am getting every day. About Clansmen being left to bleed to death in the heather or blinded or injured in a way that makes them invalids for the rest of their lives.”
“Surely you can do something about it,” the Earl asked.
“What we have both got to do,” the Laird said, “is to stop this before it gets any worse. As I have already said, ten of your men are dead, and no one knows for certain why they died or who is their murderer. I strongly suspect one particular man, but I cannot prove it.”
“What do you suggest we do?” the Earl asked.
There was a little pause and the Laird did not answer.
“You must have had something in your mind when you came over here,” the Earl said somewhat impatiently. “I know I have been away too long. But you have been here and must have thought of something we can do to stop this violence before it becomes completely out of hand.”
“It will,” the Laird replied, “unless we show our people that they must have goodwill to each other and that you and I as Head of the Clans are muted in such a way that cannot be disputed.”
The Earl looked at the Laird questioningly.
He could not think for the moment how that could possibly be done.
Then slowly the Laird spoke up,
“What I am suggesting, my Lord, is that you should marry my daughter.”
Chapter Three
The Earl stared at him.
For a moment he could not believe what he had just heard.
Then he knew that it was the most preposterous suggestion that he had ever listened to.
He had found ‘romance’, if that was the right word for it, in Paris and again in London after returning to England.
Because he was so handsome and so much in favour with the King, that there was no shortage of beautiful women to fawn on him.
As the King had taken a Lady of Quality as his mistress, members of the Court were only too willing to follow his example.
The Earl found it so very easy to have affaires de coeur with the beauties who frequented The Palace. Most of them had husbands who held positions of importance.
A few were there in their own right because, if there had been a Queen, they would have been by family tradition a Lady of the Bedchamber.
So they claimed the privilege of frequenting The Palace even though the King was to all intents a bachelor.
The Earl’s first affaire which was of any significance to him was with a very attractive and lovely Countess whose husband was continually away abroad on important missions for the King.
This left her available to enjoy a love affair like those that were taking place all around her.
The Earl found himself attracted by and then infatuated with the Countess.
At the same time instinctively he disapproved of what he was doing.
He had been brought up with a Scottish sense of propriety and he believed in his heart that any woman who betrayed her husband was nothing more than a prostitute.
That was just what he knew his contemporaries in Scotland would think of the Countess.
Yet he found it quite impossible not to be aroused by her beauty and her passionate love-making.
When her husband returned and she was no longer available, he turned his attentions to another great beauty.
He was aware that she had been stalking him, as if he was a stag, for a long time.
She was small and dark and he had never known that a woman could be so fiery and so insatiable in bed.
There was no doubt that these and the beauties that followed them taught the Earl a great deal about love.
That they found him an ardent and passionate lover was undoubtedly a compliment.
Nevertheless the strictness of his Scottish upbringing made him feel somewhat guilty.
He realised that the behaviour in Palace circles was something that he personally would never allow in his own home.
When he thought about marriage, he knew that one day he would have to marry and have an heir.
As he was the fifteenth Earl, it was essential that the title must be carried on.
There were only a few families in Scotland as old as his and the Earl knew that it was his duty and his privilege to continue the line.
He vaguely supposed at the back of his mind that it would be sensible to marry a Scot.
He also wanted to be deeply in love.
He was sensitive enough to realise that what he had felt for the beauties and what they felt for him was not real love, not the love that was written about in books and poems and which had played a great part in history.
Because, although he would not admit it, he was romantic, he wanted to fall in love not only with his body but with his heart and soul.
If he was lucky that was what he would offer to the woman he wished to marry.
It was something he could not put into words, but it was there at the back of his mind.
He was aware of it, just as he was aware that being fey, he could feel and know things which were hidden from the English.
Now, when the Laird suggested that he should marry his daughter, the Earl could not have been more surprised if a bomb had exploded at his feet.
He did not speak at first and after a short silence the Laird carried on,
“This may, my Lord, seem a strange suggestion to you, but I can think of no other way w
e can link our Clans together so that the sporadic feuds that began so many centuries ago and which now have arisen again will be stopped completely.”
“How can you be sure of that?” the Earl asked and his voice sounded strange even to himself.
“I know my Clan well as you know yours,” the Laird replied. “Beneath their dislike, even what you might call hatred of each other, they really want peace and prosperity.”
He paused but, as the Earl did not say anything, he continued,
“The majority of the older men have no wish to go on fighting the McBraras and our younger men who have served in Highland Regiments with the Duke of Wellington are glad to be back in Scotland.”
He made a gesture with his hands before he added,
“I have no need to speak for the women. What woman does not want to know that her menfolk are safe from violence and to be happy in the home that she had created for them?”
It was very plausible, the Earl thought.
Equally he was wondering frantically how he could refuse the Laird’s suggestion.
How could he possibly marry some completely unknown Scottish young woman?
She would doubtless be very badly educated and would have no knowledge of the Social world that he found so enjoyable.
He could see all too clearly in his mind’s eye the women he had recently made love to.
They were all very beautiful, sophisticated, exquisitely dressed and, in the case of his last beauty, witty.
He could not imagine any Scottish girl he had ever met in the past being able to laugh at a bon mot and cap it with another.
He had often thought that written records of the amusing conversations at The Palace with the King should be made and preserved for posterity.
The King was not only a brilliant raconteur, he could also duel with words in a way that even his enemies were forced to admire.
There was no doubt that the women who surrounded him could all hold their own in such a duel and add their contribution to it.
The Earl could see all too clearly in his mind a heavily built pious young Scotswoman.
She would not only be shocked at what she heard but would be completely incapable of contributing even a word to such conversation.