Heather Song (25 page)

I
continued playing from my Scottish repertoire. Alicia went to the far end of the room to telephone Nigel Crathie. She returned five minutes later.

“Was he upset with us?” I asked.

“A little I think,” replied Alicia. “But he said he understood. There had to be a confrontation eventually, he said, so we might as well have it over with. I know he would rather we had let him do it. But he said he would be here in forty minutes.”

“I just hope we’re not being hauled off in the paddy wagon by then!” I laughed. “In the meantime, I intend to enjoy myself. Besides, surely the policemen will recognize me and give us the benefit of the doubt.”

About twenty minutes later we heard sirens in the distance. They grew louder until they screamed into the grounds and eventually stopped outside the front of the castle. Two minutes later, many feet in the corridor came running toward us. The door burst open and two uniformed policemen rushed in, followed by Olivia. Alicia was seated calmly on a couch, and I was at my harp playing “Scotland the Brave.”

The men stopped and looked around in confusion.

“There they are,” demanded Olivia. “Arrest them.”

“These are your intruders?” said one of the policemen, turning toward her with a puzzled expression. “They’re just a couple of women. I thought you said you had a burglary in progress.”

They obviously had no idea who I was. Were they flunkies of Olivia’s, too? Where had they come from?

“I said I had caught two trespassers who had broken into the grounds and also broken into the castle and that I had no idea what they might do.”

“This hardly appears to be quite such a dangerous situation as all that, my lady.”

“Nevertheless, they are trespassers. They broke into my property. I intend to file charges, and I want them arrested.”

The man sighed, then looked back and forth between Alicia and me.

“Either of you care to tell me what’s going on?” he said. “Are you here without permission?”

“What she has told you is partially true,” I replied. “We are here without Mrs. Urquhart’s permission. However, we did
not
break in. Any charge of breaking and entering would be false. There are witnesses who can testify to that fact. I do not think it would go well for those who tried to arrest us on such a basis.”

“That is patently absurd…as big a lie as I’ve ever heard,” said Olivia heatedly, lapsing, whether intentionally or not, into the rhyming habit of her childhood.

“How did you get in, then?” asked the man.

“We were let in,” I replied.

“By whom?”

“I would rather not say.”

“I’m afraid you will have to say, ma’am.”

“I am sorry, but I have no intention of divulging that information.”

The man stared back at me, surprised at the brazenness of my refusal.

“And you?” he said, turning to Alicia.

“I have nothing to say,” she replied.

Obviously irritated, our stubbornness to cooperate at last swayed him to take action.

“All right, then,” he said. “You leave me no choice but to take you in. You’ll both have to come with me.” He stood and waited for us to get up and follow. Neither of us moved.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We cannot comply with your request. We are under orders to remain in the castle.”

“Under
whose
orders?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know what your game is,” he retorted angrily. “But I’ve had enough of it. Now get your bum off that chair and come with us.”

Suddenly behind him footsteps again came along the corridor and a suited man hurried into the room. He glanced first at Olivia, then surveyed the situation.

“I am Marshall Warmington,” he said, turning to the uniformed officer. “I am Mrs. Urquhart’s solicitor. She informs me there has been a break-in.”

“It is contained and under control, Mr. Warmington,” said the policeman. “I was just in the process of arresting these two ladies.”

During the brief exchange, the solicitor had thrown two or three quick glances in my direction. I did not know him, but he seemed to recognize me, and the wheels of his brain were obviously turning rapidly.

The policeman in charge now turned to his assistant, who had not spoken a word. “Cuff her,” he said, nodding his head in Alicia’s direction. He then strode toward me, reached down, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me to my feet. I let out a little cry. I was more astonished than anything, though his grip did hurt. I thought British bobbies were supposed to be gentle!

“Stop it, stop it!” now cried Alicia. “Don’t you know who that is?!”

“A trespasser is all I know,” the policeman shot back. “Come on, lady!” he said and pulled me, still holding tight to my wrist, toward the door. “I’ll cuff you myself when we get outside. Sorry for the disturbance, Duchess,” he said, nodding to Olivia as we passed. The smirk of satisfaction on Olivia’s face was worth a thousand words.

“Are you blind? Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” insisted Alicia as the younger man clipped a handcuff around one of her wrists and pulled her to her feet. “
That
is the duchess you’re dragging from the room!”

Whatever he may have thought, her words stopped the man in his tracks.

“Are you crazy, lady?” he said.

“I am as sane as you, and I am telling you that you are about to arrest the Duchess of Buchan.”

“And who are you, then, Mickey Mouse?” he retorted.

“She is nothing but a disgruntled former employee,” put in Olivia. “I had to fire her two months ago. Now she is determined to get back at me however she can.”

Out of the corner of my eye I had seen a knowing look dawn on the face of Olivia’s solicitor the moment Alicia spoke up.

“Just a moment, Officer,” he said, stepping forward. “You might ask the lady her name.”

“You heard the man,” said the policeman to me. “Out with it.”

“My name is Marie Reidhaven,” I said.

“Reidhaven?” he repeated.

“I am the widow of the late Alasdair Reidhaven, Duke of Buchan.”

Instantly the man’s grip on my wrist relaxed.

“Show them the papers, Marie,” said Alicia desperately. “They can’t treat you like this—show them the papers.”

“I insist that you arrest them at once!” demanded Olivia.

The policeman, however, suddenly hesitant, saw that he had stumbled into a more complicated situation than he had bargained for. Slowly he released me and stepped back, glancing helplessly back and forth between the solicitor and his client.

“Arrest them!” repeated Olivia. “Marshall, I demand that these intruders be arrested. You know as well as I do that the fact that this woman was married to my brother gives her no right to trespass and break into what is now my property and my home. She
has
broken in and I intend to file charges. Now, Officer,” she said, turning again to the policeman, “if you value your job, arrest these women and remove them from my property at once.”

Still the man hesitated. At last the solicitor spoke.

“What papers is she referring to?” he asked me.

I walked across the room to where I had laid my coat over the back of one of the couches. From its pocket I withdrew the envelope Mr. Crathie had given me at the hotel. I returned to the scene of the standoff and handed it to him. Everyone waited in silence as he took out the documents and quickly scanned their contents. The raised eyebrows and low whistle that followed evidenced his astonishment clearly enough. Finally he let out a long breath as he turned to me.

“You are no doubt aware,” he said, “that your late husband’s will and the disposition of his assets and property are being contested by the duke’s sister and will be adjudicated by the courts.”

“I am,” I said.

“Depending on the resolution of the suit, this may be nothing more than a meaningless piece of paper,” he said, indicating the document in his hand.

“Unless I am mistaken,” I replied, “I think you will find that it is a legally binding document upon which the lawsuit will have no bearing whatever.”

“What is it, Marshall?” asked Olivia, walking toward him.

“It alleges that your brother’s prenuptial agreement with Mrs. Reidhaven is null and void, that it was superseded by another document, and claims that, er…that Mrs. Reidhaven is the Duchess of Buchan.”

“That can’t be! It’s a forgery. Let me see it. You will pay for this, Marie! Who have you bribed to tell your lies? Marshall, are you just going to stand there and do nothing? I want her arrested, I tell you—for trespassing, for these, these false claims! This is absurd. Arrest her!”

The two policemen were by now inclined to do nothing but get out of there. And though he was the solicitor handling Olivia’s affairs, Mr. Warmington was sufficiently sobered by what he had seen to weigh his moves carefully before doing something he might later regret.

How far the standoff might have gone, or what might have been the final result, we would never know. Just then the man Farquharson appeared at the door, cap in hand, obviously intimidated as he saw the tense gathering. He begged Olivia’s pardon for interrupting, but had come to tell her that a man in a car was at the Port Scarnose gate being very insistent on the intercom and demanding to be let in immediately.

“Who is he, Mr. Farquharson?” she asked.

“A Mr. Crathie, m’leddy.”

“Bah! He was my brother’s rascal. He’ll do us no good. I’ve got all the solicitors I need. Send him away—I have no interest in seeing him.”

“He didna spier tae see yersel’, m’leddy.”

“Who, then?”

“Mrs. Reidhaven, m’leddy. I didna ken she was here, but he telt me tae gang an’ spier o’ ye.”

“You had better let him in, Olivia,” I said. “I am certain you do not want to be in a position of refusing my solicitor access to me. Mr. Crathie is my solicitor,” I said to Mr. Warmington. “He is handling my affairs and is the one who gave me those documents I just showed you. He is also one of the solicitors in charge of my late husband’s estate.”

“I see.” He nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Urquhart…let him in. I need to hear what he has to say.”

Still fuming, Olivia nodded to Farquharson, who disappeared. Warmington took the papers back from her. Luckily she had not ripped them to shreds. He then walked toward the two policemen. “I don’t think there will be any arrests today,” he said. “You had better get that cuff off her,” he said, nodding toward Alicia. “Then I think we can handle it from here, gentlemen.”

Only too glad to be dismissed, the two policemen were gone a moment later. Two or three minutes elapsed, then Adela appeared with Nigel Crathie at her side. She did a double take when she saw Alicia and me.

He walked in confidently with a briefcase in one hand and Adela left, though it wouldn’t surprise me if she stopped somewhere within earshot to listen. The two solicitors obviously knew each other and shook hands.

“What’s this all about, Crathie?” said Warmington.

“Only that the duchess”—he indicated me with a slight nod of his head—“upon learning that she still is the rightful Duchess of Buchan and the heir to the late duke’s estate, has returned from Canada to take possession of her property and assume her position.”

“Lies! Nothing but lies!” shrieked Olivia. “She’s an impostor! It’s all lies. Warmington, you fool—get rid of them!”

“I am afraid, Mrs. Urquhart,” he said, trying to calm her, “that we have little alternative but to take this up in court.”

“Mr. Crathie,” I said, “the way things stand, with our not exactly being welcomed here by my sister-in-law, Miss Forbes and I find ourselves in an awkward position. We will, of course, be staying at the castle, and thus we need to be able to come and go freely.”

“I understand, and I hope we can alleviate your awkwardness, Your Grace,” he said.

He turned to his fellow solicitor.

“It goes without saying that we will require keys to the castle,” he said, “
all
keys—as well as all access codes, so that my client and anyone associated with her is free to come and go.”

“After the matter is decided in court,” began Mr. Warmington. “At that time we will of course be willing—”

“You don’t understand, Warmington,” interrupted Mr. Crathie. “I mean
now
…today. I mean this minute—
all
keys and access codes.”

Mr. Crathie laid his briefcase down on one of the coffee tables, flipped the snaps open, and pulled out more papers. “I have already filed in Elgin,” he said, “a writ to this effect based on Mrs. Reidhaven’s right to regain and hold full possession of the property that is legally hers. You have seen the documentation, I believe.”

“I have seen what
purports
to be documentation to that effect. Its legitimacy, of course, will be subjected to the closest legal scrutiny.”

“By all means. But until then, we want full access, as I say, immediately. Any attempt not to comply or to inhibit or prohibit her full access would, I need hardly remind you, not be taken kindly when and if this case does come to court. I would suggest that you and your client consider your moves very carefully so that
you
are not found to be complicit in your client’s attempted illegal seizure of Castle Buchan and these crude tactics against my client.”

“How dare you!” spat Olivia.

“Caw canny, Mrs. Urquhart,” said Mr. Crathie, spinning to face her. “You cannot intimidate me, and I would suggest you do not try. Don’t forget how close your brother and I were. I am very familiar with your ways, Mrs. Urquhart. It may be that I know things you would prefer not became public. You would not do well to anger me.”

Alicia was watching all this unfold with eyes aglow with awe and admiration toward Nigel Crathie.

“You will be free to come and go as you please, Duchess,” said Mr. Crathie to me. “If there is the slightest attempt to prevent you in any way, you may contact either myself or Mr. Warmington, whom I am certain will be able to assist you. I know he will not want his client to be found in violation of this court order. I must ask you further,” he added, “if you want me to take steps to have Mrs. Urquhart removed from the premises. I can recall the police officers and—”