“I have to think that because I know Lilias would never have stolen anything. She had been brought up in a religious way. Similar to your upbringing, I should say. She came from an English vicarage … you from a Scottish manse. People like Lilias don’t steal, do they?”
“People do strange things … unexpected things. You can never be sure what anyone will do.”
“Well … she did say something about the necklace’s being a nest egg for me. I keep remembering that. What she wanted desperately was a nest egg for herself, for she was always worried about the future.”
“Most people whose future is insecure worry about it. You mean that perhaps in a moment of temptation she took it? It had not all that material value to you. Sentimental, of course, because it had belonged to your mother. But you were not in need of a nest egg.”
“All that has occurred to me, but nothing will make me believe that Lilias stole the necklace.”
“If she did not, the implication must be that there was someone in the house who did this terrible thing. Ruined her life to a large extent, you could say. Who could have done that?”
“Why should anyone? There seemed to be no reason.”
“Reasons can often be obscure.”
“I can think of nothing. But at the same time I am convinced that Lilias did not take the necklace.”
“It has to be one thing or the other. Either she took it or someone put it there.”
“Oh, Jamie, I can’t bear to think of it. I can’t get anywhere … Don’t let’s talk of it. One just goes over and over the same ground. But I had to tell you. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
“I wish that I were two years older,” said Jamie.
“They say it is foolish to wish your life away.”
“Well, I can’t help wishing the next two years away. If they were over I should be in a different position. I wish we could be at least officially engaged.”
“You mean announce it?”
“I do not think your father would approve. I think he would try to stop us.”
“Zillah is on our side.”
“She knows?”
“She guessed. She’ll help us.”
“I daresay she has a great deal of influence with your father.”
“He dotes on her. I have never seen him with anyone as he is with her. What of your family?”
“I’ve written to tell them.”
“And what do they say?”
“My father has sent me a long letter. He wishes me all that is good. They want to meet you, of course. I am sure you will like them. The manse is a bit shabby.”
I turned to him indignantly. “You think I would care about that?”
“Well, your home is rather grand … and you visit castles …”
“There was only one castle, and that was quite a small one. But tell me about your father.”
“They are all delighted. I told them about our meeting and they enjoyed hearing about that. I said that I had dined at your house. I may have given the impression that I have been accepted by your family.”
“Zillah thinks it better if we don’t say anything just yet.”
“She’s probably right. Oh, how I wish everything was settled. You see now why I wish I were two years older.”
“Are you working very hard, Jamie?”
“Yes, burning the midnight oil. Trying not to think too much of you because that is very distracting.”
“Isn’t it wonderful that we have met? If I hadn’t happened to be in the wynds that day … lost … you would have gone on with your walk and we should not have known each other.”
“You haven’t any regrets?”
“What a foolish question! Everything is going to work out well for us, Jamie. I believe that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe it. I’m sure of it … because we are going to do everything to make it come right. And because of that we can’t fail.”
WE WENT TO CASTLE GLEESON for another weekend as we had arranged and the second visit was as successful as the first. I had some riding lessons and Alastair said that during our next weekend he would take me out hacking. If he were with me I should have nothing to fear.
I must say that I did enjoy being in the saddle. He was a wonderful teacher and it gave me a sense of security to have him riding beside me.
“You’re doing amazingly well,” he told me. “You must come down again very soon so that we can continue.”
My father smiled indulgently when he heard this. He said he could think of no way of spending a weekend more agreeably than at Castle Gleeson.
And, of course, when we were in Edinburgh Alastair was frequently asked to dine with us.
Zillah watched it all with an amusement which bordered on the cynical.
“We are working up to an interesting situation,” she said. “I have no doubt of the worthy Alastair’s intentions, have you?”
I was afraid she was right.
“Do you think I ought to let him know that I am secretly engaged to Jamie?” I asked.
“Oh no. That would be most unmaidenly. It would suggest you knew to what he was leading. Society’s rules demand that you, an innocent young girl, know nothing of what is in his mind. Remember the approved surprise of the well brought up young lady when she is confronted with a proposal of marriage. ‘La, sir, but this is so sudden.’ “
She could always make me laugh.
“Perhaps I should not accept invitations …”
“My dear, it is for your papa to accept invitations. We all know they are offered because of you, but modesty forbids you to betray you know.”
“What am I going to do?”
“That is for you to decide. Do you want to be the wife of a doting older husband with a castle in the north of this land and comfortable house in this city? Or do you want to be the wife of a young man who is not yet a struggling lawyer, hungry for briefs which might not come his way with great speed, even when he first sets out for a career at the bar? It lies in your hands.”
“You know I am going to marry Jamie.”
“And renounce the bawbees?”
“Of course. I love Jamie. It’s love that is important, isn’t it?”
“Providing you have the roof over your head to cover you and food to sustain you that you may enjoy it.”
“If there is any difficulty … you’ll help me, won’t you, Zillah?”
She put her hand on my shoulder and, drawing me towards her, kissed my cheek.
“That’s what I want to do, my dear,” she said.
EVER SINCE Zillah had discovered Jamie’s existence she and I had grown closer together. I was getting more and more worried. It was clear now that my father looked upon Alastair McCrae as a suitable husband for me and was delighted that Alastair was paying such attention to me in accordance with the accepted custom. I was sure Alastair would conform as rigorously as my father to the rules and this could only mean that a proposal of marriage was imminent.
My father knew of my friendship with Jamie. Had he not been invited to the house? And after that … nothing. Did my father think the friendship had ceased because I, as a dutiful daughter, recognised his wishes for me? In his opinion we were now waiting for Alastair to make his proposal … and then we should go on from there.
It would all seem so predictable and so suitable to my father. He would dispose of his daughter to a man in a position similar to his own; and she could be expected to continue in that state to which she had been accustomed. What more could any father do or any daughter ask? It was all natural, convenient and traditional.
So I was pleased to have Zillah in the house because she understood my feelings, laughed at the conventions and could advise me what to do.
She often came to my room to talk to me and would sit where she could see herself in the mirror, finding, I was sure, her image of immense interest. I would watch her as she talked.
I said to her one day: “You are very beautiful, Zillah. I am not surprised that you like to see yourself reflected there.”
She laughed. “I am really just looking to make sure everything is all right. You could say that I am conscious of my appearance and not confident about it—that is why I have to keep looking to check up.”
“I don’t believe that. I think you like to look.”
“Well, a little bit of both, I daresay.”
“I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”
She patted her hair complacently. “I work hard at it,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you don’t think all this is quite what Nature bestowed on me, do you?”
“Well, yes. How else … ?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Mind you, I will say that Nature was kind to me. I came into the world rather well endowed in that respect. But when you have been given special gifts you have to cherish them … cultivate them.”
“Well, naturally. But your hair is a glorious colour.”
“There are means, you know, of keeping it so.”
“Means?”
“My dear, a little something out of a bottle when it is washed.”
“You mean it’s not naturally that colour?”
“It’s not far-off. Inclined more to the ginger. I keep it up to standard, you might say.”
“Oh, I see. And your skin … it is so white and beautiful. What are you laughing at?”
“You are an adorable little innocent, Davina. But I do have a wonderful secret to keep my skin clear and beautiful. It’s daring, but it works.”
“What do you mean … daring?”
“You won’t believe it, but it’s due to arsenic.”
“Arsenic? Is that a poison?”
“In large doses it kills people … but a lot of things if taken to excess are dangerous. In small doses it is beneficial.”
“Where do you get it? Don’t you have to go to a chemist?”
“Well, yes … but there’s a bit of fuss about buying it over a counter. I resort to other methods. Ellen is wonderful at that sort of thing. She gets it from flypapers.”
“Flypapers? Those sticky things you hang up to trap the flies?”
“The very things. She soaks them in boiling water. The result is a liquid which looks a little like weak tea.”
“And you drink that?”
“Only in very small quantities.”
I was looking at her in horror.
She said: “You see what people will do for beauty. But beauty is a weapon. If you’re beautiful people do things for you. It’s a gift, like being born wealthy. You see what I mean?”
“I do. But I believe that without the arsenic and that stuff which makes your hair brighter, you’d still be beautiful.”
“Do you know, I rather imagine I would … but slightly less so.”
“And you think it worth it?”
“If God gives you a gift, He expects you to make the most of it. Isn’t there a parable of the talents or something?”
“Yes,” I said. “I see what you mean.”
“Don’t you start trying things,” she cautioned. “I shouldn’t want you to start soaking flypapers and drinking the solution. It could be dangerous.”
“Perhaps for you, too.”
“I’m wise. I know what I’m about. Ellen’s a bit of an old witch. She knows a lot about this and she’s become an ally of mine. They don’t like her very much belowstairs … and in a way that makes two of us. I know they tolerate me because I don’t bother them, but your father did step out of line when he married the governess. Now you’ve got a nice skin as it is. Yours is untouched … perfect. It won’t need any attention for some time.”
“I’m glad you let me into the secret.”
“Well, didn’t you let me into yours? How is Jamie? Don’t you dare tell him about my aids to beauty. I shouldn’t have confessed to you, but we’re such good friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, good friends. Jamie’s all right. He’s getting impatient. He doesn’t like those weekends at Castle Gleeson.”
“I’m not surprised. Oh, Davina, I hope it will all come right for you and Jamie.”
“If you were in my place you would marry Alastair McCrae if he asked you.”
“Why should you think that?”
“You would think it was wise.”
“I’m a romantic at heart, dear. That’s why I’d do anything I could for you and Jamie.”
“I think you would have a lot of influence with my father.”
“In some ways, yes. I’m not sure about this matter. He’s a stickler for conventions, you know.”
“Not always,” I said.
She laughed again. “Well, hardly anyone is … always. Sometimes it suits them not to be and then they forget how important they’ve always thought them. But never mind. Trust me. I’ll do my best for you and Jamie.”
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