God's Highlander (25 page)

Secretly, Mairi felt incredibly happy. She did not doubt that Wyatt
believed
he loved her – and she loved him so much it was an ache inside her that only he could cure – but
marriage
was not in itself a goal for her. She wanted to have a relationship with Wyatt that would be something very special for both of them. A union that would stand the strain of the many pressures it was likely to come under in the future. A marriage such as her Scots father and Spanish mother had.

‘You
are
fond of me?' Wyatt was grasping at straws, but he was not prepared to give up all hope.

‘I'm more than
fond
of you, Wyatt.'

‘Then…?'

Before he could say more Mairi's hand was raised to his lips and cut off the words.

‘Think of what
I've
said, Wyatt. Think about it very carefully.'

Briefly her mouth replaced her fingers. Then she turned and walked away.

As Wyatt watched her go, admiration was added to the love he felt for the self-styled ‘simple Highland girl'.

There would be few situations that Mairi could not handle as a minister's wife. One day she
would
marry him. It was only a question of time.

W
YATT CALLED ON John Garrett the next day. He had two reasons for the visit. One was Lachlan Munro's wish that his wife might take over the croft on his death. The other was to learn what Evangeline intended to do. Although she had returned with her father, she had not yet put in an appearance at the Eskaig school.

One look at the factor's face when Wyatt was shown into the office at the back of the house was sufficient to tell Wyatt he had not chosen the best moment to call and ask favours.

‘What do you want, Jamieson?' The factor's greeting was all his scowling expression promised.

‘I came to ask after your wife, and Evangeline….'

‘What the hell has my family got to do with you?' Garrett's manner was more than usually obnoxious and held no pretence of good manners.

‘I've called once or twice while you were away. Your wife was unwell, and her maid had walked out. I sent to the village to hire another….'

‘So it was
your
idea to employ that slattern. I suggest you ought to pay any wages due to her. I've just dismissed her. Fortunately I was able to persuade the last maid to come back. She's worth three of any of the church-going trash to be found in Corpach. God! That stupid girl came into the bedroom unexpectedly, caught sight of my bare backside and damned near went into hysterics. The way some of your people behave, you'd think the human body was created by the devil, instead of in God's own image. I prefer to have sensible mature girls working in my home.'

‘Your wife was very sick. As her minister I was concerned for her. I did what I believed was best.'

‘I won't have you interfering in my household, Jamieson, do you hear? From what I've been told, your church needs to heed what's happening in its
own
house. You don't seem to be making a very good job of
that
at the moment.'

Wyatt bit back a cutting retort. Speaking as politely as he felt able, he asked: ‘Did Evangeline return with you?'

‘What have my daughter's movements to do with you? I'm still not satisfied with the story you gave me about the two of you going off to Edinburgh together. If I ever learn there's more to it than you've told me, I'll have you thrown out of your church, Jamieson, you mark my words.'

Ignoring the factor's threat, Wyatt persisted: ‘I'd like to know whether Evangeline will be returning to teach at the school. We can't bring the girls back without someone to teach them.'

‘Is Anderson – or Burns, or whatever you call the man – still teaching there?'

‘Of course. Without him there would
be
no school.'

‘Then, you've answered yourself. My daughter will never teach in the same school as that convicted troublemaker. If the elders had an ounce of sense, they'd have got rid of the man when I gave them the opportunity. If you've nothing else to say, you can get on your way. I've work to do.'

Wyatt's wasted journey had done no more than give the factor an opportunity to be even more rude than usual. He turned to go. At the door he paused and turned back in time to catch the self-satisfied smile on John Garrett's face.

‘Did you hear anything of Lord Kilmalie before you returned?' Wyatt asked.

‘I saw him. He's a dying man.' There was no hint of respect or sorrow in the factor's expression. Indeed, the smugness was more pronounced than before. ‘Go back to your church and pray for him, Jamieson. When he dies you'll see changes around Eskaig; that I
can
promise you.'

Wyatt found John Garrett's smug confidence disquieting. He wondered what had occurred in London.

Wyatt was halfway along the driveway from the house when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Evangeline running, after him.

When she caught up with him she hugged him affectionately before reproving him. ‘You were leaving the house without seeing me? I'm deeply hurt, Wyatt. Why didn't you send word to me you'd come calling? I'd have rushed down to see you immediately. I was upstairs with Mother. The servants told me you've been to the house to see her while we were away. I'm very grateful, Wyatt. She's obviously been very confused, but she's getting better. It seems as though I've been away for
months
. How is Alasdair? And young Jimmy Gordon? Was the physician able to help him?'

Wyatt remembered Evangeline had not returned to Eskaig on board Donald McKay's steam launch. Passengers who did usually arrived in Eskaig knowing more about village matters than those who lived there.

Assuring the factor's daughter that he and Alasdair were both well, Wyatt broke the news of Jimmy Gordon's death.

It came as no unexpected shock, but Evangeline was very upset and shed a few tears on his behalf. After borrowing Wyatt's handkerchief, she handed it back and said: ‘I'm sorry. Would he have lived if Father hadn't had Alasdair arrested and put in prison?'

Wyatt shook his head. ‘It would have made no difference. Jimmy was dying when I first saw him. Alasdair and the school gave him a reason for
wanting
to live, no more.'

‘I must call on Jimmy's mother when I return to teach at the school.'

‘Your father swore he wouldn't allow you near the school as long as Alasdair was there, too.'

‘Father says a lot of things he'd
like
to see happen. He took me to London to find me a husband, but that didn't succeed, either. If he tries to stop me teaching, I'll threaten to run off somewhere with Alasdair. That should frighten him enough to make him change his mind. I'll be back as soon as Mother's more settled. At the moment she panics if I'm out of her sight for very long.'

‘There's no need to run off anywhere with Alasdair. Weddings are popular in Eskaig this year. I married Donnie Ross to Seonaid Fraser on the day you returned.'

Evangeline drew in her breath sharply. ‘Does my father know about this?'

Wyatt nodded. ‘He rode into Eskaig during the wedding celebrations. ' He hesitated. ‘You know … about Seonaid?'

‘I'm closer to my father than anyone, Wyatt. Did you think the whole of the Highlands knew of his affair with Seonaid and I didn't? She isn't his first mistress, and she won't be the last, but I do believe he was fonder of her than he was of the others. This would explain the foul mood he's been in since our return.'

Evangeline seemed almost to be talking to herself. Suddenly she raid: ‘Wait here for me. I'm coming to Eskaig with you. I think we should tell each other all that's happened during these last few weeks. I have a lot to tell you about London – and Lord Kilmalie's heir….'

 

By the time Eskaig was reached Wyatt knew as much as Evangeline about her father's frequent meetings with the heir to the Kilmalie title and estates. Her information left him sorely troubled.

Evangeline knew nothing of the details of the two men's talks, but John Garrett's arrogance and assuredness were significant. The factor must have come to an agreement with the Kilmalie heir about the estate's future. Wyatt wished he knew more. It might prove to be of vital importance to the residents of his Highland parish.

The reunion of Evangeline Garrett and Alasdair Burns would not have met with the approval of Evangeline's father. They clung to each other for some minutes, oblivious to the presence of the Eskaig minister. The warmth of their greeting took Wyatt by surprise. He had thought Evangeline to be joking when she made the remark about eloping with Alasdair. Now he was by no means certain.

When the two teachers separated they continued to hold hands and chattered about Alasdair's incarceration in the gaol in Edinburgh as though it had all been a huge joke. Yet Wyatt knew they were both aware how serious it had been – and the man responsible for Alasdair's arrest was still capable of coming between them.

Wyatt also remembered the factor's threat made to him only that morning. He did not doubt that John Garrett would go to great lengths to break up his daughter's relationship with Alasdair Burns.

T
HE NEWS OF the death of Lord Kilmalie reached Eskaig only weeks after John Garrett's return from London and Edinburgh. It pushed all other issues into the background. The news was brought to the Highland village by Charles Graham, the Kilmalie estate administrator. He arrived in a specially chartered steamer with surveyors and clerks to reassess the estate assets. The arrival of so many ‘outsiders' caused great unease among the villagers and those whose futures leaned heavily upon the Kilmalie estate.

The party disembarked at the rickety Eskaig jetty on a Saturday morning under the curious gaze of many children and villagers. The new arrivals recruited the older boys to carry their baggage to the inn, paying them generously. Although nothing was said of the reason for their visit, the news of Lord Kilmalie's death was in the village before the luggage.

Word was brought to the manse by a breathless village boy. He had sprinted all the way from Angus Cameron's house, spurred on by the urgency in the voice of the church elder.

Wyatt abandoned the sermon on which he was working and hurried to the inn where the villagers were beginning to gather, Elder Cameron among them.

‘Have you been told officially of Lord Kilmalie's death?' Wyatt put the question to the solemn-faced elder when he reached him.

‘It's true enough. The administrator's here with his staff to value the estate for the new landowner. One of the crew of the boat that brought them is a Corpach man. Oh, yes, it's true enough. I fear we'll see more changes than we want hereabouts. I've heard the new laird's from Australia, the place where the British government sends all its convicts. We can't expect such a man to have
our
interests at heart. Giving
him a title's not likely to make him a gentleman overnight. No, Minister, Eskaig will regret the passing of the old Lord Kilmalie before any of us is very much older.'

Wyatt remembered the resentment against ‘the old Lord Kilmalie' when the landowner had appointed him as minister of Eskaig. He did not remind the elder. Instead he said: ‘I'm going in to see the administrator now. Will you come with me?'

‘I will, although it will be the first time I've ever set foot inside such a place.' Angus Cameron led the way determinedly to the door of the Eskaig inn, the crowd parting respectfully before him.

The Kilmalie estate administrator greeted Wyatt cordially and shook hands with Angus Cameron.

‘My visit to Eskaig is a sad occasion, I fear,' said Charles Graham when the visitors had seated themselves in his room. ‘You know, I presume, that Lord Kilmalie is dead?'

When Wyatt and Angus Cameron nodded, the estate administrator exclaimed: ‘Of course you do. I'd forgotten how effective the information service is in a small Highland village. I came straight to the inn from the boat without saying more than “Good day” to anyone, yet the news was here before me. Be that as it may, Lord Kilmalie died seven days ago and has been buried in London. His heir was in the country until recently, but is now
en route
to his home in Australia. It will be some time before he can be contacted and instructions received. In the meantime I imagine things will continue much as they have in recent years. I need to conduct a survey of estate lands and property. It's necessary in order to set a value on the new Lord Kilmalie's inheritance and assess the income and liabilities with which he'll be faced. I'll be sending a messenger to John Garrett, inviting him to meet me here this evening. We need to discuss both my survey and the prospects for the future….'

At that moment both visitors were forced to move to make way for a number of inn servants. They were bringing in luggage from the boat.

When the servants had gone, leaving the room cluttered with the administrator's belongings, Charles Graham said: ‘I fear any attempt at serious conversation is doomed right now. Perhaps you gentlemen will join the factor and myself for dinner this evening.'

As Wyatt and Angus Cameron left the inn, luggage was being carried through the passageways of the inn and more was piled up on
the roadway outside. Angus Cameron stopped to gaze at the luggage, and his bushy eyebrows met across a deep furrow.

‘There's an awful lot of luggage for such a small party. They would seem to have come prepared for a long stay.'

‘No doubt. Many of the bags will contain instruments belonging to the surveyors. Anyway, we'll hear more of their plans this evening. But come to the manse with me first, Angus. We must discuss a memorial service for Lord Kilmalie. You can tell me of some of the benefits he has brought to the village.'

Angus Cameron nodded seriously. ‘There's maybe not so many as there might have been. Yet I'm afraid time might show the
worst
thing he ever did for Eskaig was to die.'

 

Every man and woman in Eskaig and in the mountains beyond the village knew how important to them was the accession of a new landowner. Their future lay entirely in his hands. A good landlord could ensure happiness and security. A bad one had the power to dispense misery, poverty and an end to their very way of life. The new Lord Kilmalie could squeeze Eskaig out of existence, if he so wished. Every householder in Eskaig and the surrounding mountains was a tenant of the new inheritor.

Aware of the great importance of the evening meeting, many tenants gathered in the road outside the inn. They stood in silence, or conversed in low serious tones. When Wyatt and Angus Cameron arrived a path was quickly made for them and a few of the men directed low-voiced instructions to Wyatt.

‘Don't let them put up our rents too much, Minister.'

‘Invite the new laird to meet us.'

‘We're relying on you to speak for us, Minister.'

Wyatt was aware of the responsibility he carried upon his shoulders. He was also painfully aware how misplaced was their faith in him. He had been invited to ‘discuss' the future of the Kilmalie tenants, but he had no power to influence any of the parties involved. However, nothing could be finally decided until the new Lord Kilmalie had made his wishes known – from his home many thousands of miles away.

The meeting was to take place in a private room beyond the taproom. Charles Graham, his clerks and the senior surveyor were
already seated about a large fire. The days were growing shorter, and the evenings had a chill about them that heralded an early winter.

Charles Graham suggested a drink as they sat by the fire and waited for the factor to come from Corpach.

Wyatt accepted, but Angus Cameron declined both seat and drink. He believed that sitting too close to a fire aged the skin of a man. As for strong drink … the elder had
never
touched a drop during all the years of his life. He intended his entry into the Lord's kingdom to be as a lifelong abstainer.

Cameron's frown of disapproval would have disconcerted most men, but Charles Graham merely smiled and poured a glass of water for the church elder.

‘Your stand against alcohol is admirable, Elder Cameron, but I read my bible regularly and I expect to find the good Lord waiting to greet me at the gates of heaven with a glass of superb wine in his hand.'

‘If all men had the same strength of will as our Saviour, strong drink might indeed be a blessing, Mr Graham. As it is, the devil uses it for his own works.'

‘I respect your convictions, Elder. However, I believe you're missing one of life's rare pleasures…. Ah! This sounds like your factor. Now we can get down to business.'

John Garrett's loud voice could be heard outside the room. He seemed to be in an unusually jovial mood. Entering the room, Garrett ignored the two Eskaig churchmen. He nodded to the lesser members of the Edinburgh party and extended a hand to the Kilmalie estate administrator.

‘Charles! It's good to see you in the Highlands at last. But there's no need for you to lodge here, in the back of beyond. You must come to the house.'

Charles Graham declined the offer. ‘We have much work to do in and around Eskaig. We'll be calling on your services, of course, and I trust I'll be a welcome visitor to your home. However, my business will be more conveniently carried on from Eskaig.'

Accepting a drink from one of the clerks, John Garrett frowned. ‘What sort of business? It must be extremely pressing to have brought you from Edinburgh with such a large entourage.'

‘As I explained in my note to you, I'm here as a result of the sad death of Lord Kilmalie. Unfortunately, his passing means rather more
than the loss of a fine man. We're witnessing a period of great change in Scotland. Values are changing, too. It's been felt for very many years there should be a reassessment of the estate's value. Now it has become necessary in order to ascertain the
extent
of his successor's inheritance. Would you believe the boundaries of the Kilmalie estate have never been accurately defined? We must progress with the times, I'm afraid.'

‘Today's world overtook Lord Kilmalie many years ago, but he refused to face the fact,' declared John Garrett callously. ‘Things will change now, and I for one am not sorry….'

A servant appeared at the doorway and waited patiently until he caught Charles Graham's attention. Graham held up a hand to silence the factor. ‘It seems our meal is ready, gentlemen. Shall we resume our discussion over the dinner-table? Let me lead the way.'

As they walked together from the room, Angus Cameron shook his head gloomily. ‘I don't like it, Minister. “Change” and “progress” are words that mean very different things to landowners and tenants. To them it means making more money. To us it's just another way of saying “clearance” and “hardship”.'

‘Let's wait to hear what everyone has to say before we make a judgement, Angus. We have a thriving little community here. The new Lord Kilmalie won't want to destroy it. We might even find an improvement in the quality of our lives.'

Wyatt was aware there was a hollow ring to his words. Angus Cameron was right. Enthusiasm for change usually spelled disaster for the inhabitants of the Highlands.

For much of the meal the talk about the table was light-hearted. Both the Kilmalie administrator and the chief surveyor led busy social lives and they possessed a wealth of anecdotes about life in Scotland's capital city. Only Elder Cameron maintained a sombre and unsmiling demeanour throughout the meal. Wyatt suspected much of this stemmed from unfamiliarity with the variety of cutlery placed on either side of his plate. In many parts of the Highlands a knife and wooden spoon were the only dining implements deemed necessary. In the mountains the spoon itself was scorned as an unnecessary luxury.

Not until the port was circulating and tobacco-smoke drifting up to form a blue haze above the table did the talk turn to business matters, prompted by Charles Graham. He was seated at the far end of the table from Wyatt, flanked by John Garrett and the chief surveyor.

‘Minister Jamieson, are you aware you're a benefactor under Lord Kilmalie's will?'

The information, called the length of the table, took Wyatt by surprise. Lord Kilmalie had been so generous during his lifetime, Wyatt had not considered he might benefit by the landowner's death.

‘Do you mean I benefit personally? Or is it a gift to my church?'

‘It's a gift to
you
, Minister. In recognition of your heroism in saving Lord Kilmalie's son. The man who
should
have been his heir. I'm not at liberty to inform you of the details, the will has not been officially read yet, but I can assure you it's a substantial sum.'

‘Has his Lordship been equally generous to his Eskaig tenants? I'm rather concerned about these “changes” you're forecasting.'

Seated beside Wyatt, Angus Cameron was nodding vigorous agreement with his minister's words.

‘I'm more concerned with gathering facts about the estate, Minister. It will be for the new Lord Kilmalie to act upon my findings as he thinks fit, of course. However, I don't foresee any immediate changes. I gather he has no intention of leaving his home in Australia and taking up residence in this country, so administration is likely to prove difficult for a while.'

‘Not as difficult as you think, Charles. I have some papers I would like you to read.'

John Garrett rose from the table abruptly and left the room.

He returned carrying a leather satchel from which he produced a number of papers. He handed them to Charles Graham with a triumphant flourish.

Graham frowned when he glanced down at the papers, and his puzzlement grew as he read them. He read the first paper thoroughly and then glanced quickly through the remainder. Suddenly looking up at John Garrett, he said sharply: ‘Where did you get these … and when?'

‘I met Major Skene – the new Lord Kilmalie – when I was in London. We spent a lot of time together. He gave me these papers shortly before he left for Australia. A solicitor was consulted before they were drawn up. I think you'll find they're all perfectly legal.'

‘I don't doubt it. I'm less concerned with the legality than with the manner in which this whole matter has been conducted. Why was I not informed of this before?' Charles Graham threw the papers down
on the table in front of the factor. ‘Such an underhand “arrangement” is disgraceful.'

John Garrett shrugged. ‘You'll have to speak to the new Lord Kilmalie about that. It was
his
duty to inform you, not mine.'

‘I'm not talking of anyone's
duty
, John. I'm talking of trust – and honesty. You and Evangeline stayed at my house when you were on your way home from London, yet you never gave me a hint that you had these documents in your possession. Documents that make my position as administrator for the Kilmalie estates damned near untenable! '

The factor seemed genuinely startled by Charles Graham's anger. ‘Nothing has changed as far as
you're
concerned. You're still the administrator for Lord Kilmalie's estates, no matter who holds the title.'