Blood Line (17 page)

A remote possibility but one worth bearing in mind. Faro asked, 'Tell me about this coachman. Would you recognise him again?'

The maid drew herself up stiffly. 'I do not look at such men, Inspector,' she said, a touch indignantly. 'All I can tell you is that he had a tall hat and was muffled up to the eyes, even though it was a warm night. As he never got down from his box, I do not know if he was short or tall, thin or fat.' She shivered at the memory. 'I was very frightened. Coming from the backwoods with wild beasts and wild men is one thing, but a respectable woman does not expect such behaviour in a civilised big city like Edinburgh and living in a titled gentleman's establishment.'

Faro hid a smile at her innocence, and thanked her for her presence of mind in engineering his daughters' escape from the carriage. Trusting she was none the worse for her adventure, he gratefully thrust a couple of guineas into her hand and went in search of Lieutenant Mace.

The corridor to Room 223 was deserted. He tapped on the door and, receiving no reply, opened it. He was not really surprised to find it empty again.

For some reason Mace was being very elusive, but what really disturbed Faro was that everything looked exactly as it had been last night, even to the dress uniform spread out awaiting the young officer's return. As neither it nor the bed had been disturbed, the obvious conclusion was that Mace had not slept in his room, nor had he returned there after dinner in the Mess.

Faro sat down on the only chair. He had to think this out. If Mace was missing, the connection with last night's events and the attempted kidnapping of his daughters on their way home from the Castle took on a very sinister aspect indeed.

The decision for the girls to go home with Bet in Sir Eric's carriage had been quite spontaneous. To believe otherwise was to take into account what appeared to be an elaborate string of coincidences, whereby the kidnappers had some connection with the Castle and that Miss Haston's maid and Sir Eric's coachman, Roberts, were in league with them.

And Faro found himself remembering how often of late he had felt sure that his house was being watched. He went quite cold at the thought of what such vigilance might imply.

And what of the missing Lieutenant?

Should he give credence to the maid's theory about her mistaken identity and, if the plot was to kidnap Lucille Haston, had Mace received some warning of what was to happen? In fact, had his information nothing to do with the Queen Mary jewel or the missing page of a sixteenth-century inventory? Dangerous information which threatened repercussions on Faro and all his family.

Chapter Eleven

As he entered Sir Eric's apartments, Lucille was removing her apple green satin bonnet, a perfect match for her gown. Her uncle, distinguished and resplendent in full Highland dress, handed Faro a glass. As he savioured the excellent Madeira, their first concern was for Rose and Emily.

Assured that the girls were well and quite unharmed by their ordeal, Sir Eric said. 'I took Roberts to task. He won't forget in a hurry that in future he waits with the carriage until his passengers are safely indoors. When I think of what could have happened to those dear children...'

'At least Bet didn't lose her head,' said Lucille proudly. 'I know you've never cared greatly for her, Uncle . . . '

Sir Eric shrugged. 'I was wrong. Worth her weight in gold,' and turning to Faro, 'good of you to come so promptly, lad. We were all desperately anxious, even after we received your message.'

'1 really came to see Mace.'

'Mace?' Sir Eric frowned. 'I had quite forgotten. What was that about again?'

'I had a message from him. I believe it had something to do with this,' he said, taking the Queen Mary cameo out of his pocket.

Sir Eric and Lucille studied it carefully.

'Quite genuine, is it? Remarkably fine piece.'

Lucille took it and held it against her neck. 'To think that it is so old, and that the Queen of Scots probably wore it,' and closing her eyes ecstatically, she whispered, 'just like this, touching her bare flesh as it does mine, three hundred years ago.'

Sir Eric watched her with a tolerant smile as, suddenly shivering, she handed the jewel back to Faro. 'I'm not really sure that I would care to wear it, not after all that sad history.'

'You aren't likely to get the chance, m'dear,' laughed Sir Eric. 'I can't imagine the owner wanting to part with it. Must be worth a small fortune.' And to Faro, 'Who owns it, anyway?'

'We don't know.' He explained that it had been found on Castle Rock after the attempted break in and that, as it was unclaimed, Superintendent Mackintosh had decided it belonged with Queen Mary's jewels in the museum.

'Quite right, of course, once we have checked its authenticity. I'll get Forster to look into it. He should know - or Mace, even better. He's a very knowledgeable young man. I presume he's seen it.'

'He has.'

'I dare say he has found out something.'

'Do let us know. It's all very exciting,' said Lucille.

'What's wrong, Jeremy lad? You're looking very solemn.'

'I can't understand why he hasn't contacted me, sir.'

'Oh, I dare say he will.'

'But I went to his room and it didn't look as if his bed had been slept in.'

Sir Eric chortled. 'Come now. You obviously don't know army life, young lad, or what these chaps get up to. He would be off duty until tomorrow morning. Probably got a lady friend tucked away somewhere in Edinburgh and courting will have banished all other unimportant details from his mind.'

A clock struck and Sir Eric said. 'Good heavens, I had almost forgotten. You must excuse me, Jeremy lad, I have an engagement - a rather dreary Council meeting.'

As Jeremy prepared to depart also, Lucille sighed. 'I haven't any engagement for this afternoon, alas.'

'You may have the carriage, m'dear. Get Roberts to take you out somewhere and take your maid with you.'

Lucille smiled slyly. 'Perhaps Inspector Faro would escort me.'

'Good idea, if he's not too busy.'

'I am rather anxious to get back to the family. However . . . '

'Take the girl with you. Have the carriage. Your dear mother and the girls would enjoy a drive on an afternoon like this.'

'That's very kind of you, sir.'

'Not at all. Anything to keep this young lady entertained for a while.' At the door Sir Eric looked back. 'I will leave the pair of you to arrange things. Don't let her be a nuisance, Jeremy,' he warned.

'Beast,' shouted Lucille at the closed door.

On the way to Sheridan Place, he encouraged Lucille to talk of her life in Canada. Losing her parents when she was very young, he gathered that living with an elderly spinster Haston cousin and in a remote backwoods area had great disadvantages and severe restrictions. Little wonder that a young lady of spirit and restless ambition had been eager to escape.

'We only came across in May, you know. Uncle thought it advisable that we leave for a while as we lived in the Red River area, where all the trouble is brewing with the Metis.'

When Faro looked blank, she explained. 'Metis are half-breed Indians. They have a strong French and Roman Catholic culture and they resent being taken over by English-speaking, Protestant Canadians. Their leader is a very brave man called Louis Riel.'

She was silent for a moment and then continued. 'I didn't realise that I was going to be sent away to another backwoods. Orkney wasn't much better than Canada,' she said in disgust. 'And you can imagine, having heard so much of Edinburgh, I was so looking forward to coming to Uncle Eric for a while.' She sighed. 'Maybe things are always better looked forward to than when they actually happen.'

Faro smiled. 'That is one of the first valuable lessons in life, Miss Haston. Never expect too much, in fact, expect little and then one can never be disappointed, only pleasantly surprised.'

Lucille sighed. 'You are so wise and I am such an idiot.'

Faro shook his head. 'No, not an idiot, just young.'

'Young.'

'Yes, young. And that is the one trouble time will cure.'

'You make it sound like an unpleasant illness.'

'And so it can seem sometimes. Growing up is not a condition of my own life that I would care to repeat.'

Lucille laughed. 'Oh Jeremy, you are so solemn. Why, I have been grown up for years and years.'

'Hardly.'

'It's true. I can scarcely remember what it was to be a child. Anyone living where I did, and with Cousin Haston, would not long be allowed the luxury of childhood, I can assure you.'

The carriage turned into the gates of Sheridan Place and Mrs Brook came to the door.

'I saw you from the upstairs window.' Seeing his startled expression, Mrs Brook beamed. 'No, nothing's wrong, Inspector sir. All is right as rain. When you didn't arrive back, we thought you had been delayed and seeing it's such a nice day and this is their last Sunday. Doctor Vince hired a gig and has taken them all to - where was it, now - Cramond, I think he talked about.'

A sublime day, Arthur's Seat shimmered, already crowded with small figures on its summit. Poor Vince would be furious when he learned that he has missed the opportunity of another visit from the delectable Miss Haston.

'You could probably catch up with them.'

'What a good idea.'

'Will you wait a moment, Inspector sir?' said Mrs Brook, darting back into the house.

Feeling benign, Faro turned to Lucille, 'Shall we got to Cramond? Would you like that?'

'I should like to go anywhere with you.'

Faro smiled, pretending not to notice the amorous glance, the gentle sigh that accompanied her whisper. He was giving directions to the driver, when Mrs Brook re-appeared breathlessly with a covered basket and a cloak over her arm.

'Those girls forgot the extra food I made for their picnic and Doctor Vince's bottle of wine. Oh, and here is Mrs Faro's cloak in case the sun goes in. If you don't mind . . . '

As the carriage trotted briskly towards Cramond, Faro told Lucille that this was their favourite place, how he had spent a considerable time canoeing with Vince during his student days. The tide was out and the island glittered across the causeway.

Lucille shaded her eyes. 'I wonder where they are?'

'Probably on the sheltered side. Shall we walk across?'

Leaving Lucille to give instructions to the driver to wait along the promenade among the other carriages lined up while their owners took the popular Sunday afternoon stroll across to the island, he took up his stick and led the way. Lucille insisting on carrying the picnic basket and wearing Mrs Faro's light cape thrown over her shoulders.

When they reached the other side, she exclaimed with delight at the sight of the canoes on the smooth water. 'What a divine place. But I don't see Vince and the others.'

'They are probably in the Dell. It's a rather secret place Lizzie and I discovered with Vince long ago. Sheltered and quiet, superb for a picnic. Yes, that's no doubt where they are.'

The Dell was empty. 'We must have missed them,' said Faro.

'Never mind,' said Lucille. 'We have the picnic, we might as well enjoy it. I'm hungry and I suspect you missed luncheon.'

That was true and Faro realised that he was indeed hungry. There were three boulders which he pointed out made a natural table and chairs. Spreading the contents of the basket, she said, 'What a divine spot. I can understand how you must have loved it here. And Vince must have been a great comfort to you after your wife died.'

'He adored his mother,' Faro replied, opening the wine.

'Tell me about her. I realised that you couldn't be his real father, you were too young. Does he always call you Stepfather?'

'Yes.'

'I would have thought Jeremy more appropriate.'

Faro shook his head. 'No, I like being Stepfather. It's like Father, I am the only one to be called that name by Vince.'

'Tell be about his mother.'

'There isn't much to tell.'

'Isn't there? She must have been considerably older than you.'

'Not really. She had Vince when she was sixteen. They were so close - more like brother and sister really.'

'You must miss her very much.'

When Faro didn't reply, she continued, 'Did she love you very much?'

'I expect she did.' He looked at her sombre face. 'What an odd question.'

'Why odd?'

'Because most people take it for granted that husbands and wives love each other.'

'I don't think it's always true, do you? And you are a strange man. You give so little away of your emotions.'

'That is because in my job emotions are best kept hidden.'

'Have you ever loved anyone since your wife died?'

Faro looked at her. To be honest or diplomatic. 'Well, yes, I have.'

'Then you would marry again?'

'I have no strong feelings on the subject.'

'Didn't you want to marry this other woman...'