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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Parricide, #Contemporary, #Edinburgh (Scotland), #Stepmothers

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BOOK: Snare of Serpents
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But everything was particularly cosy within the castle. I had a room in a turret and there was a fire in the grate in spite of the fact that it was summer.

“The nights can get cold,” the housekeeper told me. I learned that she had been born in the castle; her parents had been servants to the McCraes; now her son worked in the stables, her daughter in the house. There was an air of serenity about the place. I was not surprised that Alastair was proud of it.

Dinner was served in a dining room which led from a hall which must have been the same as it had been for centuries, with stone flagged floor, whitewashed walls on which ancient weapons hung. It was darkish, for the windows were small and set in embrasures.

“When we are a large company we eat in the hall,” Alastair explained, “but this dining room is more comfortable for small parties.”

“What a pity,” I said, “that you are not here more often. I suppose the greater part of your time is spent in Edinburgh.”

“That has been the case. Business, you know. But I escape on every opportunity.”

“I can understand that.”

He looked at me intently. “I’m so glad you like the old place. I enjoy playing the laird when I can, but mostly the affairs of the estate have to be left to my manager.”

“You have the best of both worlds,” said my father. “It’s a very pleasant house of yours in Edinburgh.”

“But I always think of this as my home.”

Over dinner he asked me if I rode.

I said I greatly regretted that I did not. “There would not be much opportunity in Edinburgh.”

“One needs a horse in the country.”

“It must be wonderful to ride,” I said. “Galloping over moors and along by the sea.”

He smiled and leaned towards me. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“Well, I think that would be most exciting, but I couldn’t learn in one lesson.”

“One can learn the rudiments. It takes practice, of course, before you are able to handle a horse properly. But somehow I think you would be a receptive pupil.”

I laughed. “Well, one lesson will not take me very far.”

“It would be a beginning.”

“What are you two concocting?” demanded Zillah.

“Miss Davina and I are arranging a lesson in riding.”

“What a wonderful idea! An excellent opportunity for you, Davina dear.”

“Miss Davina is protesting that she cannot get very far in one lesson.”

“You never know,” said Zillah slyly, “there might be more.”

The next morning I was in the paddock, seated on a small horse on a leading rein, chosen for its gentleness, with Alastair beside me. He looked very distinguished in his riding coat. The housekeeper had found a riding habit for me. It belonged to Alastair’s sister, who visited the castle occasionally but hadn’t worn it for some time.

“She used to ride all the time,” the housekeeper told me. “The family has always been one for the horses. But since she had her children she doesn’t ride so much. I’m sure she’d be glad for you to use her old habit.”

The fit was not too bad. It was a little large for me, but it served its purpose and I was equipped for the exercise.

I must say I enjoyed it. Round the paddock we went. Zillah and my father walked in the gardens and came to watch us for a few minutes. They seemed very pleased.

At the end of the lesson, Alastair said: “You’re a wonderful pupil. We must have another lesson tomorrow.”

“I think we are leaving tomorrow.”

“I’m hoping to persuade your father to stay another day. Why not? We can travel back together on Tuesday.”

And so it was arranged and the next morning I spent in the paddock with Alastair.

At luncheon Alastair said to my father: “Your daughter will soon be a champion rider.”

I laughed. “You exaggerate. Besides, I shall not have the opportunity for all the practise I should need.”

“You must come again … soon, before you forget what I have taught you. We’ll arrange something.”

“That is most hospitable of you,” began my father.

Alastair raised a hand. “Please … the pleasure is all mine. What about the weekend after next?”

My father hesitated. Zillah gave him a sideways glance. He turned to her and said: “What do you say, my dear?”

“It seems delightful,” she answered.

“Well, Alastair, if you are sure we shall not be encroaching …”

“Encroaching, my dear fellow! As I have told you, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Not
all
surely,” said Zillah with a little laugh. “David dear, you know we should love to come. The week after next, is it?”

“That is settled then,” said Alastair.

We travelled back to Edinburgh on the Tuesday.

When I was unpacking Zillah came into my room. She sat on the bed regarding me slightly sardonically.

She said: “The McCrae affair progresses with speed. What a charming gentleman he is. Is he beginning to wean you from the impecunious but oh so charming Jamie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, just is it going to be Papa’s choice or yours?”

I was alarmed. It was obvious, of course, but I had refused to think of it too seriously.

Alastair McCrae would be a suitable husband. He had wealth and standing in the city. Jamie was a humble student. He had his way to make and there was the question as to whether he would make it.

I had been stupid, while I was enjoying my riding lessons under the benevolent eyes of my father, not to accept the fact that this was part of a well-laid scheme.

How incredibly innocent I was! My father disapproved of Jamie, whose existence had brought home the fact that it was time I married and settled in life out of the path of penniless students who in his view were in all probability grasping adventurers.

There would be no questioning that with Alastair McCrae; he was probably more wealthy than my father.

Zillah was watching me through half-closed eyes. There was a smile about her lips.

I should be grateful to her. She was making me see life through her somewhat cynical but highly sophisticated eyes.

I
T WAS SOON AFTER OUR RETURN
that my father was taken ill. It happened during the night, but I did not hear about it until the morning.

Zillah said he had awakened her at about three o’clock feeling very sick. She had been up with him half the night. She had given him a powder to settle his stomach, she said. It was a well-known recipe for that sort of trouble. It had not been effective immediately, but after a while he had felt better; and now he was sleeping peacefully.

“Shall I send for the doctor, Madam?” asked Kirkwell.

“I think we might wait awhile,” said Zillah. “You know how he hates the thought of the doctor coming. He kept saying he didn’t want him. He’d be better soon. I’ll watch him carefully. And if there is a return of the symptoms … yes, certainly we’ll get the doctor. It’s just that he hates a fuss and we don’t want to upset him. It’s something he’s eaten most likely, so … let’s wait awhile.”

She kept him in bed all day.

I heard Mrs. Kirkwell mutter something about old men’s marrying young wives. Sometimes it was too much for them. “A man’s as old as his years and it’s not going to do him much good to fancy he’s a young one … when he is not. He’s going to pay for it … sooner or later.”

I think everyone was surprised by how assiduously Zillah played the nurse; and he had recovered the next day, except that he felt a little weak, which was natural.

“You were wonderful, my dear,” he told Zillah. “I’d never thought of you as a nurse, but you played the part perfectly.”

“I’m good at playing parts,” she replied lightly. “There’s a lot you have to discover about me, my dear husband.”

The next day I met Jamie.

He was working hard, he said. He had had to forget the thesis for a while. He had to think of passing his exams with honours and setting out on his career as soon as possible.

He asked about the weekend and I told him of the riding lessons.

He was somewhat gloomy.

“What castle was this?”

“It belongs to Alastair McCrae, a friend of my father.”

He wanted to know about Alastair; and I told him we should be going to the castle again the weekend after next.

“If my father is well, of course,” I added. “He has been ill.”

“He’ll recover in time for this visit, I daresay. What is the man like?”

“Alastair McCrae? Oh, he’s quite pleasant. He’s old, of course.”

“Your father’s age?”

“Oh … not quite. Late thirties, I imagine.”

“Oh,” said Jamie with relief. “Some twenty years older than you.”

“About that, I imagine.”

That seemed to satisfy him. I did not tell him of Zillah’s hints and what was becoming more and more obvious to me.

He asked after Zillah. She had clearly made a great impression on him.

I told him how she had looked after my father when he was ill … not seriously ill, of course, only mildly so, but it had left him a little weak. It seemed she had been very efficient in the sickroom.

“There’s something very nice about her,” he said.

“Yes, I’m beginning to think so. I resented her, of course, when she first came. It was because I was so fond of Lilias …”

And then I was telling him about Lilias’ departure.

He listened intently. “Do you really think that someone put the necklace in her room to incriminate her … deliberately?”

“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.”

BOOK: Snare of Serpents
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