The Balmoral Incident (8 page)

I was not alone. A man was bending over me, a dark shadow against the pale moonlight. I could not see his face clearly, but I heard his voice.

‘Lost your way, miss?’

Oh, thank God! One of the forest rangers, a ghillie more like. As he moved I heard the metallic sound as he removed the rifle from his shoulder. ‘You know you’ll be catching your death lying there.’

He sounded amused, a smiling voice. A shaft of moonlight touched his face as he put down rifle and satchel to unroll something. A rain cape, a man’s, smelling of sweat and cigar smoke. He was going to smother me.

I sat up, alarmed, stifled a scream, fought it off.

He laughed. ‘What’s wrong with you? I’m not going to hurt you – trying to help. You’re half-frozen.’

A tall man towering over me. His accent, not local Deeside, more Highland or Irish. The moonlight filtering through the treetops had vanished but not before there was enough to reveal a glimpse of his face. Pale, with that wayward lock of dark hair. So like Danny’s.

I came to my senses. This was the man I had seen talking to Lily in Ballater. Our driver Dave thought he was a ghillie, had seen him hanging about the stables. What a relief.

‘Are you hurt, miss?’ Solicitous, anxious to help, to reassure.

I jumped to my feet, wobbled a bit and he caught me, held me firmly by my elbows for a moment.

‘Steady now, miss.’

‘I am quite all right,’ I said coldly and handing back the cape. ‘Thank you, but I don’t need it.’

‘Sure now? What happened to you, did you faint or something?’

I was now standing feeling the cold without the warmth of his arm around me. I said firmly: ‘Of course not. Just got lost, that’s all. Took a short cut in the dark.’

He had the grace not to laugh. ‘A short cut? At this time of night? And where was it you started from? Do you remember? The gipsy encampment is a fair distance away in the dark.’

‘I am not a gipsy,’ I said shortly. ‘I came from the castle, my brother is a member of the royal household. I was at a party—’

I stopped – why was I telling him all this, excusing myself?

But he had moved closer. Tall, over six feet, wide-shouldered,
he blocked out what little light there was and dwarfed my less than five. He towered over me and leant forward, that damnable forelock almost touching my face. Oh no, not damnable, that other dear memory.

He sniffed, took a deep breath and smiled. ‘Been drinking? And too much of it for a lady at that party, I’ll be thinking. Not used to it are you, miss?’ His smile was faint reproach. ‘And they go rather heavily on the wine and usquebaugh up yonder at the castle.’

He paused, hands on hips, regarding me. ‘Newcomer, are you?’ He didn’t wait for a reply, shook his head. ‘Have to be on your guard, know what you’re doing, until you get used to it, miss.’

I was cold, tired and the last thing I wanted was a moral lecture on the dangers of alcohol.

‘Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me where I am,’ I said stiffly in my best Edinburgh accent, so there could be no mistaken identity about gipsies and putting him in his place.

‘I can do that, miss.’ That suppressed mockery again. ‘You’re in the midst of the estate forest running down to the banks of the river.’ And no longer teasing, patient now: ‘And where is it you wish to go, miss? Back to the castle, is that it?’

I ignored the ‘miss’ as I had ignored the gipsy implication. A horrid but familiar error by strangers at first meeting. I thought of the aristocratic lady in Ballater station. My mop of unruly yellow curls now about my shoulders, wildly tangled. My lack of any dress sense that would be regarded not as unfashionable but as distinctly unconventional.

It wasn’t the man’s fault. Ten years ago in 1895 when I first came to Edinburgh my self-styled designation: ‘Lady Investigator, Discretion Guaranteed’ had caused initial problems. Although to all accounts, mostly flattering, I had changed little since; my appearance sadly belied my forty years.

I said: ‘Not the castle, if you please. I am staying in a cottage near the stables with my family and my little girl,’ I added pointedly.

‘And you are on the right track of it, I’ll see you onto the path over yonder. Follow it, comes out right by the gates. It’ll be daylight soon; you’ll see the castle so you won’t get lost again. Come along, miss.’ And, smiling, he took my arm gently and led the way, a short distance through the trees towards the sounds of the swirling, shining river growing steadily closer.

I was lost for words, a whirlpool of emotions like that river surging inside me. Tired, cold and hungry, but most of all, overwhelmed by the sinister almost supernatural feeling that this man was no stranger to me. I knew him already. Knew that he could lock me into his eyes, not like Danny’s, not deep-blue Irish eyes, but even in that faint, early light, a strange luminous amber. Eyes I could drown in, fall down, down into a magic world like Alice-in-Wonderland, a world I had lost long ago.

We had set foot on the path, straight ahead, before us the swift-moving river.

‘Over there, see—’ he pointed. There was enough light now for the grey outline of the stables. ‘You’ll be back at your cottage directly.’

He bowed. That was somehow familiar too. ‘I’ll bid you good day, miss.’

I thanked him, walked a few steps, but when I turned for a last look, he had disappeared, swallowed up by the tall trees of the forest.

I heard dogs barking as I approached the cottage, dogs I had nearly mistaken for wolves during the night, although I could not have been more than half a mile off course. How was I going to explain what an idiot I had been, getting lost in the dark less than a mile away? Thank heaven Meg and Faith had stayed at the castle.

I opened the door. Thane was already there waiting to greet me and Mabel appeared in her night robe, staring down the stairs.

‘Where on earth have you been, Rose? That Dog has been going mad all night, flinging himself against the door, trying to get out.’

I was stroking his head, as he leant against my side. I could sense his relief that I was home and safe. That he was trying to tell me he knew I was in danger, he had tried and failed to reach me when I needed him.

‘I knew I mustn’t let him out, but I didn’t know what had got into him, going demented like that,’ Mabel was saying indignantly, ‘Keeping the whole place awake. Couldn’t sleep for the noise. He should be trained not to bark—’

I cut her short, murmured something consoling to her. But I knew perfectly well what had got into him. I hugged him under her disapproving tight-lipped gaze. Thane
always knew when I was in danger, now here at Balmoral, as he had in Edinburgh for the past ten years. We still had our strange telepathy that I felt had been transferred to Meg but no, the bond was still there.

And if Mabel had let him out of the cottage, I would no longer have been lost in that black forest all night. He would have found me and led me safe home through the darkness.

‘What happened to you, Rose? And where is Olivia?’ she asked rephrasing her original question. ‘I was told you were just going there for tea,’ she added indignantly.

So I told her that Olivia had decided the girls should stay and that when they went to bed, there had been a little party for some of Vince’s friends to meet Olivia. She presumed that I had stayed the night and I saw no reason for complicated explanations as she didn’t seem particularly interested.

As I made my breakfast she went up to her room and didn’t appear again until lunchtime. Nor did Lily put in an appearance, so I felt rather guilty that having been disturbed by Thane’s barking during the night both had decided to return to their beds, and that Lily, who normally made Mabel’s breakfast, had been instructed that she was not to be disturbed.

I would have liked to follow their example, almost too tired to eat or even stay awake, but I rallied enough to take Thane out for his morning walk in the woods. He showed none of his usual eagerness to run ahead and I regarded him anxiously. He didn’t seem himself, shivering and staying close to my side.

‘Missing Meg, are you?’ He regarded me gravely,
that almost human questioning glance, and then the rain began, a sudden sharp shower and we headed back.

I went upstairs. Mabel was in her bedroom. I thought I heard her voice raised, haranguing Lily, no doubt, who never spoke above a whisper.

I slipped quietly into my bedroom, fell on the bed and slept. Deeply but not particularly peacefully, troubled by weird threatening dreams, none of which I was to clearly remember except that my rescuer had a leading role, but whether as hero or villain never became certain.

I was wakened by the sound of voices. Mabel’s and that of Aiken; gruff, deep and very carrying.

I went downstairs feeling drugged with an ominous feeling of dread, the lingering shreds of bad dreams. Aiken leapt to his feet, touched his bonnet in greeting. I could see from his expression that there was something amiss. The purpose of this visit was not to bring any good news.

He was looking hard at Thane, then clearing his throat he said sternly: ‘We have had complaints, madam, from the castle, indeed from the highest,’ he added, bowing his head reverentially, ‘if you get my meaning. The kennels were very noisy last night. Their Majesties were disturbed, and children were awakened.’ He shook his head. ‘This behaviour of the kennels is quite unknown. The dogs are very well-behaved animals, carefully chosen and trained, but they were at it all night, barking and howling.
Something started them off. His Majesty was most upset,’ he added gravely.

And so was I. I guessed that Thane had set them off, his panic about me had spread to the other canines and so they wanted to be out too, on the trail, searching. Oh dear, this was awful.

Aiken was saying: ‘This is very serious, madam. As you know, I have done my very best to keep His Majesty unaware of your dog’s existence. Dr Vince was most adamant that the presence of such a handsome, unusual beast would be kept as unobtrusive as possible.’ He stopped, sighed wearily and I realised what a can of worms I had opened. My innocent visit to the castle, staying on for that party, drinking too much and getting lost, had not only endangered myself, but put Thane’s future in peril.

As Aiken prepared to take his departure, leaving me to brood on how I had let everyone down, emotions in turmoil, my thoughts flew to Jack. If only he were here, when I needed him most, his expert knowledge dealing with this very nasty situation. Clever, wise Jack would know exactly what to do next.

Mabel set about preparing a meal, which rather surprised me as she rarely ventured as far as the kitchen sink let alone the stove.

‘Where is Lily?’ I asked. ‘Is she ill?’

Mabel scowled. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I haven’t seen her all day. Perhaps she has eloped with one of those stable boys.’ She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I have had more than enough of that girl, I can tell you. Totally unreliable and not a word of gratitude for being here, sharing the
cottage with her betters. She seems to think she is on holiday too and can neglect all her duties. I can tell you, Rose, I have had enough. Enough! When she does appear, I shall send her packing, and without a reference either.’

I was delivered from Mabel’s further tirade about the delinquent Lily by the arrival of Olivia and the two girls. A great fuss was made over Thane by both of them. Olivia was delighted at the amazing transformation in Faith during this holiday.

She took me aside and said: ‘Faith is so fond of Thane, she has quite got over her terror of all dogs, large and small, and we have had to promise her a puppy when we get home.’ She stopped and sighed. ‘And that will not be long now, Rose. Just a few days.’

I had forgotten theirs was to be a brief visit. ‘We will miss you. Must you go so soon?’

She smiled sadly. ‘I’m afraid so, Rose. I have a lot of commitments linked with living in St James’s. Ladies committees, that sort of thing. I even have a fashion show to organise, a charity event.’ She looked over at Faith playing happily with Meg. ‘And Faith too. She must get back as she goes to boarding school this term.’

‘She is so young. Are you sure you want her to leave home?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘Not I. I would be more than willing to keep her with us, send her to a local private school. She is rather shy but she would soon make friends of her own age, I’m sure of that.’

I had no doubt of that either, watching the friendship blossom so rapidly with Meg.

‘The trouble is that she’s an only child, really – her
brothers are so much older and Vince believes that the experience of boarding school will be the making of her.’

Reading between the lines I suspected that Vince was also considering it was time to cut those apron strings, as well as her mother’s perpetual fears for her health. As he said to me later, ‘All will be taken good care of in an excellent school for girls like Faith. The one we have chosen has a most reliable reputation.’

Listening to Olivia and watching the two girls, I said: ‘Meg will miss her, they’ve grown close in the few days together.’

Olivia smiled and sighed. ‘Cousins, too. So nice. Will you be sending Meg off in due course?’

I shook my head. There was no possibility. Even if we could afford it I could not see Jack ever agreeing to that and in truth we both wanted Meg coming home to us at the end of each day. When she outgrew the convent there were splendid schools for girls in Edinburgh.

I had made a pot of tea and called upstairs to Mabel. There was no reply and I decided that having had a broken night with Thane and the noisy dogs next door, she had probably taken the opportunity to recover her lost sleep.

As we sat at the table with the regular supply of newly baked scones from the castle kitchen, Olivia said: ‘Did you get home all right, by the way? Vince was anxious about you.’

There was no point in lying to save my face, so I told her how I had got lost but a kind ghillie had set me on the right road. I omitted the horrid details that I had been in that beastly dark forest all night and as I was skimming the surface, so to speak, I wondered why I was not telling
the whole truth, but then she did not know the details about those earlier encounters with my strange rescuer who reminded me so of Danny.

At that moment, I had no wish to start explaining it all to Olivia who would have been rather embarrassed, I felt, by such a confession. So, let him go as an unknown ghillie. And I still didn’t know his name.

Olivia was saying. ‘I came to look for you later at the party and Vince told me you had left.’ Pausing, she regarded me thoughtfully and said, ‘Before we leave, there is someone who wants to meet you. Someone who believes you may be able to help her,’ she added gravely and I thought, Oh no, not a prospective client, surely. Not at Balmoral.

‘Alice von Mueller. You may remember her, she was with the Queen when we met them in the gardens.’

All my attention had been on curtseying and I had only the vaguest memory of a lady accompanying her.

‘Alice looked in to our party, but you had rushed away. She is English. Her husband is a very high official in the Kaiser’s government, a remote cousin of the Kaiser. We have friends in common and occasionally meet them at St James’s.’ Smiling at me expectantly, she added: ‘I said I was sure you would have a word with her.’

I could hardly refuse but I guessed already that her problem, whatever it was, sounded well out of my territory. Straying husbands, thieving maids, fraudsters. Royalty indeed!

Olivia was aware of my cautious expression and said: ‘It is only advice she needs – desperately, I gather.’

‘How did she hear about me?’

Olivia shrugged. ‘Overheard some friend of Vince’s talking about Edinburgh crimes and your famous father Inspector Faro having been Queen Victoria’s personal detective and that you had followed in his footsteps. I gather there was some mention of you being here on holiday.’

Dear Vince, I thought, how did he manage in the realm of patient confidentiality? He certainly couldn’t keep any family secrets.

‘Anyway,’ Olivia said. ‘Please say you will see her. I do like her, she’s a nice person, but alas, we do not care for her husband. Arrogant army man – very Prussian.’

Even as I agreed, I admit reluctantly, to meet her I was already filling in some of the details. An unhappy marriage, I had a lot of those in my logbook, with an inevitable love affair and the complications that could bring. Like blackmail. That was the most popular.