Page 46 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

But Fergus could not bear the sight of his bride looking pinched and shivering. He ordered lavishly, chivvied both the old staff and the new who had been hired to augment them, and by the time the Usingen party arrived, things were looking more promising.

Giulia was determinedly gay. The journey north had been a severe trial to her, the trains slower and more uncomfortable with every change, and the final leg of the journey by carriage almost more than she could endure. The first sight of Cawburn could not fail to impress: massive, looming, romantic with its turrets, pinnacles and crenellations, like something out of a fairy story. She had married the lord of the castle, and this was only the first of his properties! But she was a child of the warm south, and what was within those towering walls made her wonder what on earth she had done, especially when the cruel wind came soughing round the walls, fingering its way under the doors and, worst of all, driving belches of smoke down the chimneys and into the rooms.

‘It’s only because the chimneys are cold, m’lady,’ the housekeeper assured her. ‘it’ll be better by and by when they’ve warmed up.’

Giulia, huddled into the fur that had been one of her wedding presents, wondered if that would be in her lifetime, and pondered how people could live in places like this when they had the whole world to choose from. But she was too proud to regret the mad impulse that had made her accept Fergus’s offer, and told herself that they would not be here for long. His other houses must be better than this; and if they weren’t, well, there was London and there was Venice, and he was so besotted with her she was sure he would follow her desire. Which was never to be cold again.

In the mean time, she had a front to keep up. She had been angry and disappointed to learn that Giles would not be coming, but his mother was, and she must take back to him a report that Lady Leake could not have been happier and was basking in her fond husband’s attentions and enjoying his resources.

Maud saw nothing wrong with the temperature. She had been brought up here and if, in her childhood, anyone had asked whether she was cold, she would not have understood the question. Comfort was never thought to be a requirement of a Forrest. She was unexpectedly glad to be back at Cawburn, and went from room to room remembering people and occasions, from window to window rediscovering views. Her husband revelled in her new-found communicativeness as she relived the nicer parts of her growing-up. He was delighted to see her happy.

Maud herself was surprised to realise that that was what she was. Contentment had not often come to her since at the age of nineteen she had married Willie Stainton. But Paul Usingen not only offered her security, he actually liked her. He was kind to her. He cared that she should be happy. And she found too that she was glad, despite the initial shock, to be carrying a child for him. She wanted – this was something quite new – to please him. This unexpected softening – she put it down to a curious effect of pregnancy – was alarming to her at first, until she realised that there was no longer any need for her to be hard all the time. There was nothing in particular that she had to strive for. She could, if she wanted, simply enjoy things. It was very odd.

* * *

More guests came every day, and the atmosphere grew jollier with each arrival, since both Fergus and Giulia were determined, if for different reasons, that everyone should have a good time. The house was very large, since the neighbours lived so far away, if they visited they had to stay the night. So there were plenty of bedrooms. And if southerners had been wary about visiting the wilds of Northumberland at that time of year, friends and relatives in Scotland had no such fears. Which was how Maud came down from resting on her bed one afternoon and discovered a bustle of welcome in the great hall for Sir Gordon Tullamore, accompanying his daughter Beata, now Lady Elrick, and her husband.

Sir Gordon was brushing snow from his shoulders and saying, ‘I don’t think it’s settling. We saw a lot of deer on the way up, Leake – your people haven’t been taking care of them. That’s the trouble with being an absentee landlord.’

‘Giulia thinks they’re pretty,’ Fergus said defensively, and sought to divert attention. ‘Here’s Maud. You haven’t said hello to Maud.’

A stiffness came over Sir Gordon, but he bowed and said, ‘Maud. Are you well?’

‘Tolerably so, thank you.’

‘I thought you had gone back to Germany.’

‘Not yet. Fergus is my only brother. I must pay his bride suitable attention.’

‘Quite so. Quite so. Beata, my dear, are you ready to go to your room?’

Beata had forgotten for the moment Maud’s connection with the banishment of her brother, and was in any case newly enough married for her husband to push everything else out of her head. ‘Oh, no, Papa, Roly and I must have a cup of tea first. It was a dreadful journey. The roads are terrible. Is there tea, Uncle Fergus?’

‘As soon as you ring. Giulia, my dear, show our guests to the fire.’

‘I’ll go up, and join you shortly,’ said Sir Gordon, and turned to the stairs, just as Rachel was coming down them. She stopped and blushed scarlet, then came on, and Sir Gordon, instead of waiting for her to step off at the bottom, started up, brushing past her without acknowledgement.

Maud’s lips tightened; Beata looked embarrassed, remembering what she had forgotten. ‘Oh dear, I hope there won’t be unpleasantness,’ she whispered to her husband.

Maud heard her. ‘Unpleasantness?’ she said coldly.

‘We didn’t know Rachel would be here,’ Beata said awkwardly.

‘Where should she be?’ Maud demanded.

The prince, recognising the onset of conflict, stepped between them and offered each an arm. ‘If I may be of service, dear ladies,’ he said. ‘To such a good fire to go on such a day is pleasant, not?’

Sir Roland Elrick took pity on Rachel, left standing, and offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully.

The atmosphere deteriorated slowly. Maud and Gordon Tullamore should have been on the same side: neither wanted the Angus-Rachel marriage. But because Rachel was an earl’s daughter and Angus only a baronet’s son, Maud had always believed it was for her to do the rejecting, not Tullamore. And it was not by her choice that Angus had been banished from the family and lost to his father (though she would have come down equally hard on disobedience) so it was rather too bad of Tullamore to treat her coolly.

For his part, Sir Gordon blamed Rachel for leading his son astray, and Maud for not bringing her up properly and controlling her.

In a large house with a large crowd of people things might have passed off without an explosion, but on one evening, to amuse his guests and show off Giulia, Fergus got together some musicians and arranged a ball after dinner. Sir Roland, seeing Rachel drooping in a corner, hiding herself from Tullamore’s eye, was overcome by good manners and asked her to dance. She didn’t really want to dance with Sir Gordon watching, but she appreciated the kindness, and she had always enjoyed Scottish dancing. It reminded her of Angus, who was wonderful at it, so light and springy on his feet it was a revelation. It was pleasant, anyway, to be partnered again by a handsome young man, even if it wasn’t Angus, and before long she had forgotten her troubles and was dancing with exuberant energy.

But at the end of the set, Sir Gordon stalked over and, without a glance at Rachel, snapped to his son-in-law, ‘You are neglecting your wife, Elrick. Come away.’

Maud, standing nearby, bristled. Come away? As if her daughter was something unpleasant he needed to be saved from! ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, in her iciest tone.