The Gowrie Conspiracy (15 page)

‘I am very impressed. It is remarkably comfortable.’

Again she laughed. ‘But you are just at the beginning, there is much more to see and admire.’

Pausing as stairs suddenly changed direction and led to the smaller tower wherein were set the guest chambers, they reached the second storey where, she told him, the handsome windows overlooking the garden had been a recent
renovation
.

‘Fifty years ago they were little more than arrow slits but Will changed all that. He wanted fresh air and light.’ And opening the doors into what had once been the Great Hall with its two massive fireplaces one at either end, Tam noticed that, as well as handsome chairs upholstered in velvet and brocade set back against the walls, there were mirrors and on the floor, carpets and rugs.

Tansy touched one with her foot. ‘A great improvement. Once upon a time such a house as this would have had only
bent grass as a covering. Frequently changed but not very healthy and smelling like a hayloft.’

Tam had walked across to a corner containing musical instruments; fiddles, fifes, a harpsichord and virginals.

‘Do you play and sing?’ he asked eagerly.

‘A little, sometimes – only to entertain Will,’ she said
modestly
. ‘I do not rate it as one of my best achievements.’

Tam looked at her fondly. ‘Perhaps you will sing for me sometime?’ he whispered hopefully.

‘Perhaps, Tam. Perhaps.’ And as always she moved
quickly
away from him, as though afraid or embarrassed by their closeness.

His expectations no more than a gentle kiss, feeling spurned and a little hurt, Tam followed her through the house which was considerably larger than it appeared from the outside.

At one time the house provided accommodation for many guests and their servants, for glimpsed through opened doors were dark panelled walls, polished floors, rooms dominated by postered beds with exquisite bed-hangings.

When he remarked upon such luxury, she smiled wryly. ‘If you look closely you will see that these particular ones were once a bishop’s vestments. Most of the tapestries in the house have a similar clerical origin, as you will see.’

So speaking, she hesitated briefly before a room with a handsome carved oak door. A moment later, opening it somewhat reluctantly she said, ‘This is the grandest room in the house.’

Tam walked across to the turret annexe whose three
windows
overlooked the garden and a sweeping vista of the Perthshire hills.

‘This is Will’s room, the master bedroom.’

Tam looked at the massive bed Tansy shared with Will, the room spread out with their personal possessions of clothes and books. Suddenly her reluctance became embarrassment as she waited for him at the door.

Descending the stone spiral to the distant murmur of voices below, she said, ‘Will intends to have all these walls
plastered
in due course. He believes it will add to the warmth of the house. One more place to see then I will release you.’

Opening a door, she said, ‘This is the Tapestry Gallery. It spans the area over the Great Hall. Many of these hangings are very ancient and very valuable. After the Reformation, like the bishops’ vestments these were looted from despoiled churches and found their way into private homes.’

She paused, trying to read Tam’s expression as he looked at them. ‘Will has been very generous. He has promised that I may take as many as I wish to Gowrie House, where I am sure they are sorely needed.’

Gazing upward critically, she said, ‘What do you think, Tam? Do you feel they are right for two young men who might not share a taste for such sombre offerings in their
bedchambers
?’

Tam was in full agreement with Tansy. He would certainly have no wish to be surrounded by scenes of bloody battles from Ancient Greece and of Biblical themes, mostly of a
worthy
but highly depressing nature like a wild-eyed Abraham, knife raised, preparing to sacrifice his beloved son.

Tansy was inspecting the handwork. ‘They are beautifully embroidered, in petit point and must have taken years in the making.’

‘And many pairs of hands,’ Tam said. ‘I feel that a second opinion is advisable here, that you should consult your
foster
-brothers before removing them.’

‘I agree,’ said Tansy. ‘Nothing is more embarrassing than a very valuable but completely loathsome gift.’

Returning to join the three men in the parlour, Tansy
suggested
that they might like to see the herb garden.

They were observed by Will from his study window, where, closeted with his steward Thomas, he had just heard related a sinister and terrifying account of the events behind the accident to Simon Fuller’s carriage.

Had not Simon Fuller been a habitual early riser and keen to arrive at Kirktillo in readiness to welcome his elderly
brother
-in-law, the carriage from Falkland Palace bearing Tansy and Martin would have been the first arrival. With its
passengers
, coachman and two horses plus heavy luggage,
crossing
the bridge would have had fatal consequences.

Such were the horrifying facts imparted to Will by his steward.

‘There is no doubt, sir,’ said Thomas with a solemn shake of his head. ‘The whole structure would have collapsed under the carriage’s weight.’

Will also heard a very different story regarding the cause of the morning’s near tragedy.

‘It should never have happened, sir. If only your message had reached us earlier.’

‘What message? You were informed of our arrival several days ago.’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I am not referring to that, sir, but to the more recent one.’

Will stared at him. ‘A moment, Thomas, if you please. I sent you no other message.’

It was Thomas’ turn to regard his master incredulously. ‘But, sir, the two men you sent yesterday – they brought your order to reinforce the bridge against your arrival – ’

Will held up his hand. ‘Wait – what – men?’

Thomas sighed and repeated patiently. ‘They arrived at dusk last night with instructions that Master Hepburn had observed on his last visit that the bridge was becoming unsafe. Realising that it might not bear the weight of a
carriage
and horses, you had given orders that they were to
reinforce
the parapets and strengthen the understructure immediately – ’

‘Thomas! This is nonsense. I have never made such an observation to anyone,’ said Will indignantly. ‘I was not aware until this morning that the bridge was in disrepair. It has always seemed perfectly safe to me.’

Pausing, he regarded Thomas sternly. ‘Did these men
present
you with written instructions, as would have been the usual procedure?’

‘No, sir. I asked to see their orders, but they insisted that there had not been time for such to be issued by you. That you had apologised but stressed that the matter was too urgent.’ He hesitated and added, ‘They assured me that you had insisted that I would understand.’

Then, feeling guiltily that he had been at fault, Thomas shuffled uncomfortably and said in his own defence, ‘It appears, sir, that they were right, the bridge was unsafe, but it would appear they did not get the repairs completed in time.’

‘But someone gave that order, Thomas, and it certainly was not I. Did you perhaps recognise these two men?’

‘No, sir, they were not from these parts.’

‘How would you describe them?’

Thomas thought for a moment. ‘Not labouring men, sir. They seemed like men with authority, used to folks obeying them. Stern – like soldiers.’

Tansy, Tam, Martin and Simon emerged from the herb
garden
and Will said, ‘I need to look further into this matter.’ At Thomas’ gloomy expression he added, ‘I assure you that I do not consider you are to be blamed for any of these
unfortunate
events.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Bowing, Thomas managed a relieved smile.

Dismissing him, Will added, ‘Would you please ask Master Eildor to attend me here.’

Watching Tam walking with Tansy across the lawns, Will marvelled at how lightly he moved, his steps swift, graceful.
Certainly Tam Eildor stood out from normal men of his acquaintance, and it defied all logical explanation that he could be the same young man whom he had first met at Morham thirty-six years ago.

Tam was considering an excuse to leave Tansy and have a look at the bridge alone when the steward approached and said that the Master wished to see him.

Tansy looked surprised, perhaps that she was not included, and caught up with Martin and Simon to continue their walk around the gardens.

In the laird’s study, a grave-faced Will asked Tam to sit down.

As he repeated what the steward had told him. Tam
listened
without comment. Apart from the story of the two false labourers and their instructions regarding the renovation of the bridge, Master Fuller had already repeated several times in full detail his harrowing experience, stressing particularly the marvel of his escape unscathed, more or less, from the wrecked carriage.

How fortunate it was, he told them, that he was driving his own modest carriage alone that morning with his very
biddable
horse who obeyed his every command. His listeners shuddered obligingly as he added that had his dear wife and small children been passengers, the outcome might have been such that he dare not even think about.

At the end of Thomas’s version of the morning’s events, Will looked at Tam and said, ‘I was aghast! I have never so much as hinted at the bridge being dangerous! Do you not agree that there is something very alarming about this story?’

Tam nodded. ‘I would hazard a guess that the bridge was deliberately made unsafe.’

Will was silent a moment for Tam had confirmed the full impact of his own suspicions. Shaking his head he said, ‘This conversation between us is in strictest confidence, Tam. I do not wish the others to know the full story. And for reasons
that are no doubt obvious to you, I want it kept from Tansy at all costs.’

And leaning forward, Will regarded him anxiously. ‘I had to tell someone. For in the light of recent events at Falkland I am fearful for her safety. Since you hold her in such high esteem and you will be with her at Gowrie House, I am
relying
on you to take very good care of her.’

Stretching out his hand he smiled and took Tam’s arm in a friendly grasp. ‘I know I can trust you, Tam Eildor.’

‘I am flattered by your trust in me,’ said Tam, ‘but let me ask, how trustworthy are your servants?’

Will smiled. ‘I would trust Thomas with my life. He has been at Kirktillo with me for twenty years and in all that time I have never had reason to doubt his honesty. I have been happy to leave the running of the estate in his hands and I have never had any reason for doubt or complaint. Everything runs smoothly and he has shown a natural shrewdness about choosing reliable servants.’

Pausing he shook his head. ‘I can assure you none of them would or even could have made up such an elaborate and fantastic story about the bridge.’ And spreading his hands wide. ‘Let us consider, what would any of them have to gain by such a fabrication. Especially as the servants are all
devoted
to Tansy.’

Tam had seen evidence of this as Tansy walked him round the house.

Biting his lip, Will continued, ‘You see, I have a very unhappy feeling that neither myself nor Martin were the objects of this wicked deed. Or yourself. Why should any wish to harm you?’

Tam could have given him two plausible answers to that question. Namely the Duke of Lennox and John Ramsay, King James’s favourite, but he preferred to remain silent on that particular issue.

‘Have you enemies among your neighbours, Will?’

‘None that I am aware of. I believe I share a very harmonious
relationship with others in the area. My cousin Hailes is an infrequent visitor, so the attack could hardly have been directed at him. And as I rarely use my carriage, I always ride, the trap was certainly not for me.’

Pausing, he added solemnly, ‘One thing is perfectly clear. Somehow the plotters knew in advance about a carriage on its way to Kirktillo. Very precise information, even down to the day and – almost – the very hour.’

Tam had already reached that conclusion as Will
continued
, ‘So, who had these villains in mind? Who did they want to kill – for killing was certainly their plan? There is only one person left,’ he added grimly. ‘And that is Tansy.’

Perhaps he hoped from some reassuring denial from Tam but, aware of the murderous attempts at the queen’s Masque, the crossbow arrow that could have been intended for Tam, the poisoned goblet left no room for any doubt about who the assassin had in mind.

A gentle tap on the door announced Tansy. Her pretext of discussing with Will somewhat urgently whether he would prefer mutton or beef to be served at his guests’ next meal seemed somewhat flimsy.

Tam suspected that she had been listening outside and, excusing himself, he decided to continue his inspection of the bridge.

Minutes later as he crossed the lawns, he was hailed by Will hurrying to catch up with him.

‘I presume we have the same destination in mind.’

Silently they approached the area of the old moat and Tam slid carefully down the rocks where the broken parapet lay scattered like matchwood across the stream.

Plodding after him, scrambling on hands and knees, Will watched Tam leap sure-footed across rocks and tangled shrubbery, as if such hazards were no more than stepping stones. It was quite extraordinary, thought Will. Where had he learned to move so fast, with such agility. And to walk so softly?

From a point underneath the bridge, Tam called to him. ‘It is as I suspected. The posts below road level had been cut through.’

‘Damned villains,’ said Will.

‘And very recently,’ said Tam grimly. Clinging to the
vegetation
along the swift moving burn, evidence of sawdust and shavings.

He let them run through his fingers. This was the final confirmation that a deliberate attempt had been made, a death trap set for the carriage from Falkland.

At his side Will repeated, ‘Damned villains. A horseman, one person would have been unscathed or only slightly unnerved by the instability of his crossing. But the weight of a fairly large carriage with passenger or passengers would guarantee disaster.’

Both had the same thought in mind. That a fourth
determined
attempt had been made to kill Tansy. And that the order could only have issued from her lodging at the queen’s apartments or from the stables at Falkland Palace where their plans were known.

As they walked back towards the house, Simon Fuller, in the stables, was making another sinister discovery concerning his narrow escape.

Making sure that his horse was being well-cared for, he was having a friendly word with the coachman from Falkland.

As they were talking, one of the young grooms, Jock, came in.

Simon instantly recognised his rescuer who, first on the scene, had raised the alarm.

‘Ah, there you are. I hoped we would meet again.’ And so saying Simon handed him a fistful of silver coins.

‘That is for saving me from a very nasty fall.’

Jock stared amazed, open-mouthed. Bowing, murmuring thanks, for he had never had so much money in his life.

Simon smiled at the coachman.

‘There I was clinging like a monkey to a spar when along comes this lad like a guardian angel.’

The lad looked from one to the other. ‘It was just luck that I was on the spot – ’

The coachman Mat winked at Simon. ‘At that hour. Not just luck – I would say he was up to no good.’

Shamefacedly the lad avoided their eyes. ‘It is a good place to snare a coney in the early morning and I have some snares under the bridge.’

Mat laughed and indicated Jock’s fist tight-closed on the coins. ‘And you reaped a better harvest than a few coneys!’ Pausing he added, ‘Does Master Fuller know what you
overheard
?’

Jock looked diffident and stood twisting his bonnet in his hand, shaking his head.

‘And what would that be?’ Simon asked.

‘Tell him, lad, it might be important,’ urged the coachman.

‘I dunno. It might have been just a jest,’ was the reluctant reply.

‘Some jest, lad. This kind gentleman might have been killed.’ And looking at Simon he said earnestly, ‘I think you should hear this, sir.’

Jock shuffled uncomfortably, staring at the ground as Simon smiled reassuringly. ‘Tell me, lad. You have my word that whatever it is, I promise not to get you into trouble with the Master.’

Jock looked at him and then it all came out in a rush. ‘I was looking for my snares, keeping quiet because I sometimes catch the young ones with my hands if I am fast enough. I was right under the bridge, keeping well out of sight when I heard the noise of the carriage. The next thing, the terrible noise above my head. I thought my end had come when you fell right in front of me, hanging on to that spar.’ And,
pausing
to draw breath, ‘Just as I was coming to get you, I heard them – ’

‘Them?’

‘Aye, sir, these two men on the bridge. One looked down and said, “We got the wrong one. It was a woman we were meant –” The other man cursed and told him to keep his mouth shut. Then he said, “Shall we just finish him off?” I heard the gardeners running towards us and knew you were safe. I yelled and they both bolted.’

Simon was shattered at this information. Could it be true?

‘What were these men like? Would you know them again?’

‘They looked like … soldiers,’ said the lad, shaking his head.

‘Why did you not tell Master Hepburn all this?’ Simon demanded sternly.

The lad shook his head. ‘I was scared. About the snares, I mean. I take the coneys to my mother and sisters across
yonder
. I could get into trouble for doing that.’

Heading back towards the house, Simon wondered what he had got himself into. Confused and deeply worried, he realised he must tell Will. Even aware that the penalties for poaching were very severe. On some lordly estates tenants were hanged for such offences. But he could not imagine a laird as kindly as Will Hepburn ever putting more into effect than a good scolding.

‘“Meant for a woman.” That’s what the lad said he heard them say. What does it all mean?’ he asked a grave-faced Will.

And before he could reply. ‘I came only to collect my
brother
-in-law, pay my respects and linger for an hour or two. Instead I am almost killed – by mistake – and find myself in some sort of political intrigue. For that is what it sounds like.’ Pausing he said, ‘Are you to tell me what this is all about, Will?’