74. Love Lifts The Curse Page 5

  He put some food on his plate and sat down at the table.

  “I have not had time to ask you about yourself,” he turned to Jacoba. “I am very curious as to why, looking as you do, you have to earn your own living.”

  “I never thought that it was something I would have to do,” Jacoba replied in her soft voice, “but I am afraid that my Papa became very extravagant after my mother died and so did his brother. Because of it the house we lived in – and the estate had to be – sold.”

  There was a little break in her voice that the Viscount did not miss.

  “Was it a large estate?” he asked.

  “Nearly two thousand acres, my Lord.” Jacoba replied.

  The Viscount stared at her.

  “That is large! And you say that it was owned by your father?”

  “No, his elder brother. But Papa lived in the Dower House and it has been my home ever since I was born.”

  “Then what happened – ?” the Viscount began.

  At that moment the door opened and Hamish came bounding into the room.

  “Good morning!” he called out. “The carriage is at the door and I think, Miss Ford, you should now go to the station. I am sure you will want a corner seat in a comfortable carriage and it would be a mistake to be late.”

  “Y-yes – of course,” Jacoba agreed.

  She rose from the table and collected her handbag and gloves that she had placed on a chair just inside the door.

  The two men then followed her into the hall.

  Waiting outside was a very smart carriage with the Earl’s crest on the door and there were two liveried servants on the box.

  Jacoba said goodbye first to Mr. McMurdock and then to the Viscount.

  She thought that the Viscount held her hand for a little longer than was necessary.

  “Don’t forget if you do return to London to come here!” he said.

  “I will remember,” Jacoba replied, “and thank you again, my Lord.”

  She stepped into the carriage, the footman closed the door and she bent forward to wave as the horses moved away.

  As she had shaken hands with Hamish, he had put an envelope into her hand.

  When she opened it, she found that it contained her First Class ticket to Inverglen and a five pound note.

  She put the money away in her purse and kept the ticket in the envelope so that she would not lose it.

  She remembered that when she had been dressing there had come a knock at the door.

  The maid had answered it and brought back a letter.

  When Jacoba looked at it, she had seen it was addressed to the Earl of Kilmurdock. In one corner was written,

  “To be handed to his Lordship on arrival.”

  She placed it in her bag and hoped that it said nice things about her.

  She would have felt agitated when she reached King’s Cross if the footman had not found a porter for her luggage and had accompanied her to the train.

  He looked very impressive in his cockaded top hat and what she now knew was the Warrenton livery.

  She felt it was his presence that made the porter find an empty compartment with a ladies only sign on the window.

  He put the hamper she had noticed with delight in the compartment and then he hurried to the guard’s van with her trunks.

  “I think perhaps I ought to tip him,” Jacoba said to the footman.

  “I’ll see to that, miss,” the man replied. “’is Lordship told me to do so.”

  Jacoba thanked him and before climbing into the carriage held out her hand.

  The footman raised his hat before he took it and said,

  “Good Luck! And take care of yourself, miss! You really oughtn’t to be goin’ all that way on your own!”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I shall be all right,” Jacoba replied.

  She smiled and when he walked away she thought again how kind everybody was to her.

  She made herself comfortable in the corner seat facing the engine and put the hamper on a seat next to her.

  She hoped that the carriage would not be too full and then another lady came in just before the train started.

  She was middle-aged, plainly dressed, and had a kind face.

  She sat down opposite Jacoba who hoped that there would be nobody else.

  It was a corridor train and she thought it possible that people might come from the crowded carriages into theirs.

  However, after a great palaver of whistle-blowing, waving of the red flag and the slamming of doors, the train began to puff slowly out of the station.

  “Where are you going?” the lady asked as the train gathered speed.

  “I am going to the North of Scotland,” Jacoba replied.

  “Goodness gracious! That’s a long way, to be sure! And are you travelling all alone?”

  “There was no one to go with me,” Jacoba answered her, “and I have never been so far before.”

  “I should think not!” the lady said, “and unless we have a lot of people joining us, we can at least make ourselves comfortable for the next fourteen hours to Edinburgh.”

  “Is that how long it takes?” Jacoba asked.

  She thought that she had been rather remiss in not finding out the length of the journey before.

  “Fourteen hours!” the lady repeated, “unless, of course, we’re delayed on the way, as frequently happens.”

  “We can only hope that does not happen this time,” Jacoba said bravely.

  She was thinking that fourteen hours was a very long time and she only hoped that she had enough food to last for the whole journey.

  She was thankful she had been brave enough to say that she needed it and she certainly could not have gone hungry again as she did yesterday.

  She was felt certain that it would be a mistake to spend any of her precious money if it was not entirely necessary.

  When a few hours later she opened the hamper, she was grateful to find that it contained a thermos flask of hot coffee.

  There was also food enough for that day and the next unless she was greedy.

  The lady opposite her also had a hamper, but she informed Jacoba that she was on a strict diet because she had not been well.

  She could apparently only eat foods that did not upset her digestion and this meant that Jacoba did not have to offer to share anything with her.

  Although she thought it would have been selfish to keep the pâté, chicken and sliced tongue all to herself.

  A Steward in a white coat came into the compartment and informed them that there was a restaurant car on the train.

  But, when he saw that the two passengers had their hampers with them, he did not press them to leave their carriage.

  The lady did not talk much and, although Jacoba enjoyed looking out of the window at the countryside they were passing through, she felt that the day passed very slowly.

  When it was getting towards evening, the lady opposite her said,

  “I told you that if we were lucky no one would join us and that means we can make ourselves comfortable for a few hours’ sleep before we reach Edinburgh.”

  “How can we do that?” Jacoba asked.

  “You can take off your hat for one thing, my dear,” the lady replied, “and I am going to ask the Steward if he can find something we can rest our heads on.”

  She put the question to the Steward when he came to ask them if they required dinner.

  “Well, I don’t know about that, ma’am,” he said shaking his head. “There’s beds on the sleeper cars, but I shouldn’t take the pillows.”

  “I am sure you can find us something,” the lady pleaded.

  “I’ll do me best, ma’am,” he promised.

  He came back twenty minutes later with two rather hard leather covered cushions and Jacoba guessed at once that they came from the seats in the restaurant car.

  “Best I can do,” he said putting them down on the seat of the carriage.

  The lady opened her handbag and ga
ve him some money.

  When he had gone, Jacoba said,

  “You must allow me to pay half of what you gave him.”

  “Now don’t worry your head about that,” the lady replied. “Thanks to my husband there’s plenty more where that came from!”

  Jacoba looked at her questioningly and she explained,

  “Mr. Corder is a ship owner and I am on my way to join him in Glasgow.”

  She laughed before she continued,

  “You may think it strange, but I don’t travel by sea. If I tell the truth, even before I set foot on a deck I feel seasick!”

  “That is very unfortunate for you,” Jacoba said.

  “I manage,” she replied. “I am joining my husband, although I would rather stay in London, because otherwise he would get into trouble of one sort or another!”

  Jacoba looked surprised, but she thought it would sound inquisitive to ask what sort of trouble.

  The lady, however, was busy showing her how by raising the arms of the seats they could lie down on them, their heads on the rather hard pillows.

  “I never thought I could do that,” Jacoba exclaimed.

  “You will learn! So take off your shoes and, if you think you will be warm enough, your jacket so that it will not be creased when you arrive in Edinburgh.”

  Jacoba did as she was told.

  After they had drawn the blinds and lowered the lights she fell asleep.

  *

  Jacoba half woke once or twice wondering where she was.

  The noise of the wheels gave her the answer and she fell asleep again to the rhythm of them.

  Then she woke completely to find that it was not long after midnight.

  “We will be there in an hour,” said Mrs. Corder, “and that will give you time to tidy yourself and have something to eat.”

  Jacoba did both.

  Then, as the train steamed into Waverley Station in Edinburgh, she realised that she was in Scotland and had been for some time.

  There was no mistaking the broad accents of the porters’ voices as they came to the carriage door.

  “If you are going on to Glasgow to take the West Highland Railway,” the lady suggested, “you can come along with me.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Jacoba said gratefully. “I was wondering what I should do about finding the train!”

  “Fortunately we don’t have to change stations,” Mrs. Corder told her.

  Jacoba went with her to the guard’s van and pointed out her luggage to the porter.

  Mrs. Corder gave instructions to the porter and then they walked for what seemed to Jacoba a long way to another platform.

  When they reached it, the porter walked off to make enquiries.

  He came back to say that the train for Glasgow was two hours late.

  “Just as I expected!” Mrs. Corder exclaimed. “It does not surprise me! I have never known it be on time.”

  “Perhaps you ladies’d like to go into the restaurant,” the porter said, “they’ve opened it seein’ your train from London were two hours late. I’ll look after your luggage for you.”

  “Then mind you do!” Mrs. Corder admonished. “I don’t want to lose anything.”

  “It’ll be safe with me,” the Porter assured her.

  Mrs. Corder took Jacoba not to the waiting room but to the restaurant.

  “I could do with a drink,” she said, “and I expect you would like another cup of coffee?”

  Jacoba hesitated.

  She still had a little left in her thermos flask and she had eaten some of the food that had left in her picnic basket. She thought it would be extravagant to buy anything more.

  “You are my guest,” Mrs. Corder said. “I will buy you a cup of coffee or something stronger if you like. Personally, I need a whisky.”

  Jacoba stared at her in astonishment.

  She had never thought that any lady would drink whisky, although she knew it was a favourite with the Scots.

  She was, however, too polite to say anything.

  She sat down with Mrs. Corder at a small table in the restaurant and the waiter brought Mrs. Corder a whisky and soda and Jacoba had some coffee and a hot scone.

  “If you have never been in Scotland before,” Mrs. Corder advised her, “I think you will enjoy the national dishes, although you will be sick to death of them before you are finished! But you will begin by finding them tasteful.”

  Jacoba spread butter on the scone and thought that it tasted delicious.

  She felt that, as there were so many people here, she would have been too nervous to eat and drink.

  She had no idea that many of the men were looking at her admiringly.

  ‘The girl is far too pretty to be travelling alone,’ Mrs. Corder thought, but she did not say so.

  When they had finished, they sat talking until it was time to go back to where the porter was guarding their luggage.

  “Only about five minutes to go!” he said.

  “Will I have to change trains when I arrive in Glasgow?” Jacoba asked.

  “Depends where you’re goin’,” the porter replied.

  Jacoba showed him her ticket.

  “Inverglen!” he said. “That’s a long way to go and you’ll be on the West Highland Railway. It’s no been open for long.”

  “And she have to change trains?” Mrs. Corder asked.

  “Aye, that’s right,” the porter replied.

  Jacoba hoped it would not be complicated in any way and, when they climbed into the train, Mrs. Corder asked her,

  “Will you be staying in the Highlands?”

  “I am going there as companion and reader to an old gentleman who is going blind and deaf,” Jacoba explained. “He lives in Murdock Castle.”

  Mrs. Corder thought for a moment.

  “I have never heard of it, but there are many castles in Scotland. You will find one wherever you look and many of them are in a bad state of repair.”

  Jacoba was listening with interest as Mrs. Corder carried on,

  “Sometimes the towers are falling down with the Chieftain having no money to pay for any renovations.”

  It sounded rather depressing, but Jacoba thought that if the Earl could afford a companion he could not be poor as she was and her father had been.

  As the train moved on, Mrs. Corder rambled on about her husband’s ships and the very comfortable house she had on the outskirts of Glasgow.

  “If you had not had an appointment,” she added, “I could have asked you to come and stay with me.”

  “I would have enjoyed that,” Jacoba replied, “and I am so lucky to have met you.”

  Mrs. Corder smiled.

  “You are a very pretty girl,” she said, “and mind you take care of yourself. Don’t go listening to the first young man who pays you a compliment or tries to kiss you.”

  “I am sure no one will do that!”

  Jacoba blushed at the thought and Mrs. Corder went on,

  “You are far too young and pretty to be wandering about the world on your own! Have you no parents or relatives to look after you?”

  “I-I am afraid – not,” Jacoba answered.

  “Very well, you will just have to learn to fight for your rights, my dear, and make no mistake, it can easily turn into a fight when there’s a man about!”

  The way she spoke made Jacoba feel uncomfortable.

  She told herself that she would be quite safe with the Earl who was old, blind and deaf.

  At the same time, Mrs. Corder repeated her warning several times that she must be careful.

  When they reached Glasgow, she suggested,

  “I am going to put you in the train and make sure you get a carriage where you will be undisturbed. You have a long way still to go.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother to you,” Jacoba said.

  “I am worrying about you,” Mrs. Corder replied. “As I have already said, you are far too pretty to be going all this way by yourself!”

  “I have been lucky
so far,” Jacoba smiled, “in finding you.”

  “That may be true,” Mrs. Corder agreed, “but another time you might not be so lucky.”

  She sent a porter to collect their luggage as she had done before.

  Then she took Jacoba across the huge station to the platform from where the West Highland trains departed.

  Because their train had been so late Jacoba was afraid that she might miss the connection.

  But fortunately the train to the Highlands was waiting at the platform.

  There were a large number of passengers in Third and Second Class compartments, but the First Class were almost empty.

  Mrs. Corder chose the one she thought best because it was not over the wheels.

  As a porter put Jacoba’s luggage in with her, Mrs. Corder repeated for the hundredth time,

  “Now you take care of yourself, my dear, and don’t do anything that your mother, if she was alive, would disapprove of!”

  “I will certainly not do that!” Jacoba replied.

  As she spoke, she looked so pretty that Mrs. Corder felt that it was hopeless to try to protect her from the dangers that might be waiting for her.

  How could she make this innocent girl understand that, because she was travelling alone, whether he was English or Scots, a man would think her fair game?

  Then she had an idea and she spoke to the porter who was waiting at the carriage door.

  Jacoba did not hear what she said, but he nodded his head and hurried away.

  Mrs. Corder came back to the carriage.

  “I have asked the porter,” she said, “to fetch the guard.”

  “What for?” Jacoba enquired in surprise.

  “I am going to ask him to lock you in. This is not a corridor train and you will be safe until you reach Inverglen if no one can join you.”

  Jacoba thought that she was fussing about her quite unnecessarily, but at the same time, it was very kind of her to take so much trouble over a perfect stranger.

  The porter came back with the guard and Mrs. Corder told him who she was and he was obviously impressed.

  Then he came to the carriage door and locked it, as Jacoba thought that she saw Mrs. Corder slip something into his hand.

  Then, as he walked away, Jacoba let the window down so that she could lean out and kiss Mrs. Corder.

  “Thank you, – thank you so – very much!” she sighed. “I do hope that I shall see you again one day.”