Waterfall Glen (34 page)

“‘He also declined to comment on how he sustained the severe swelling which marked one side of his face.

“‘One person who was prepared to comment was Mr. McRae. The sprightly 76-year-old-former commando, a decorated D-Day veteran, said that Carling had been ‘sent homeward tae think again’.” The reporter chuckled to himself at that and said, “I think I’ll use that quote in the heading: how does ‘London businessman sent homeward tae think again’ sound to you?”

“Better than you’d believe,” Kate told him.

“If you don’t mind, I’d just like to add a few paragraphs about your plans for the glen, and how they might have been affected by all this.”

Before Kate could answer, her attention was distracted by a commotion when a van marked “NorthScot T” pulled up only yards from where they stood. She looked over the journalist’s shoulder to see a film crew piling out of the back and setting up a camera. An attractive young auburn-haired woman stepped out of the front of the van, sized up the scene at a glance, and said to Harry McLaren, “Excuse me, do you mind if we butt in—we’d like to do a live feed in time for the
North Today
lunchtime news.”

The newspaperman responded with a gallant bow and said, “They’re all yours.”

“Do you mind doing a quick interview?” the TV reporter
asked Kate and Cameron.

Before Kate could answer, a man with a large pair of headphones said, “Paula, we’re on in ten!” and handed her a microphone.

The woman turned from Kate and Cameron, watching the hands of the man in the headphones as he counted down from ten with his fingers. When his last finger folded into his palm, she looked into the camera and said, “I’m standing outside Inverness Sheriff Court where London businessman Tony Carling has just been found guilty of an offence apparently aimed at perpetuating the notion of an ancient curse. With me is the American heiress at the heart of the story, Lady Kate Brodie.”

The TV reporter turned to the side, and the cameraman pulled back to include Kate in the shot. “Lady Kate, thanks for joining us. First of all, can I ask if you ever at any stage believed that the unfortunate incidents which plagued your arrival in Glen Cranoch might have had a supernatural explanation?”

“I wasn’t sure quite what to think,” Kate said into the proffered microphone.

“And what do you think now?”

“I think it’s quite obvious what’s been going on.”

“Do you still plan to try and start up a fish farm?”

“The fish farm was what you might call a red herring, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“So you’re sticking to the plan to save The Cranoch by using it as a venue for weddings?”

Kate nodded.

“Aren’t you afraid some people might still be put off by the notion of a curse, given the glen’s unhappy history?”

“If there is such a thing as a curse, I think it would only work against those who try to harm the glen and its people—the Tony Carlings of this world.”

“But surely you must recognise that people might think twice about getting married in a place with such a checkered history. I mean, would you be happy to get married there?”

Kate’s surprise at that question was as nothing compared to the shock she felt moments later at the next one, for it wasn’t asked by the TV reporter, but by Cameron Fraser: “Well, Kate,” he said, “Would you?”

Kate turned to Cameron, oblivious of the frantic gesturing of the director, who’d guessed what was about to happen and was signalling to his cameraman to pull back for a group shot.

“Kate, would you marry me in the chapel at Greystane?” Cameron asked.

Flash bulbs started going off all around, people began clapping, the TV reporter clasped her hands in delight—and Kate Brodie didn’t notice any of it. The only thing she could see was the face of the man she loved with all her heart; the only thing she could hear was his voice, saying, “Marry me, Kate Brodie …”

And then, safe and secure and completely sure in his arms, she said just one word.

“Yes.”

Skeleton found in Glen Cranoch

POLICE FORENSIC investigators and archaeologists from Historic Scotland spent most of yesterday in a cave in Glen Cranoch following the discovery of human remains thought to date from the 1745 Jacobite rebellion.

The discovery was made by Mr. Cameron Fraser, owner of a nearby cottage and fiancé of estate owner Lady Kate Brodie, while looking for a missing dog last week. Initially he thought he had simply stumbled on a cache of clansmen’s weapons hidden in the bloody aftermath of the ‘45. With light fading and lacking a torch he was unable to investigate further at that time.

He intended going back the next day, but was sidetracked by a series of dramatic events including a car crash, a violent confrontation with London businessman Tony Carling, and a sensational marriage
proposal made on live TV following the conclusion of the Carling court case.

Little wonder, then, that it was several days before he remembered about the cache of weapons and went to investigate further.

Entering the cave he found not only the basket-hilted broadsword which had originally caught his attention, but also the skeleton of the clansman who once carried it.

Experts say it is still too early to positively date the remains, but indications suggest they are those of a clansmen who may well have fought alongside Bonnie Prince Charlie.

Startling twist in case of Cranoch clansman

IN A startling twist it appears that the body found in Glen Cranoch earlier this week may be that of a distant relative of Mr. Cameron Fraser, the man who discovered it.

A distinctive owl-shaped silver brooch found on the remains of the clansman’s plaid matches that in a portrait of disgraced Jamie Chisholm which hangs in nearby Greystane Castle. Chisholm was known to have been present at Culloden in 1746, but was branded a coward after being seen fleeing from the field of battle. His eventual fate had hitherto been unknown.

However, in a dramatic turn of events, it appears that a discovery made with the body may not only clear Jamie Chisholm’s name but in fact make him something of a hero. A silk battle standard was found folded inside the plaid which clothed the skeleton, leading experts to
believe that the clansman had been trying to save the colours and return them to Greystane, the seat of his clan. The standard is covered in blood from the chest wound which it appears the gallant clansman succumbed to while being hunted by the Redcoats of “Butcher” Cumberland in the brutal aftermath of the battle.

Mr. Fraser said, “It seems he must have run into the full force of musket fire and grape shot to save the colours and salvage some honour for the clan.

“Had he been caught with these colours as he tried to make his way home he could have expected no quarter.

“For two and a half centuries Jamie Chisholm has been reviled as a coward. Now I hope he’ll be remembered as a hero, and that not only his body but his soul can rest in peace.”

A Highland fling

LADY KATE BRODIE was married at the weekend to Mr. Cameron Fraser, descendant of Jamie of the Colours—the Highland clansman whose name he helped to clear.

Lady Kate was born in America and lived in Sausalito, near San Francisco, until inheriting the Cranoch Estate on the death of Mr. Colin Chisholm earlier this year. She has resisted renewed overtures by London-based developers Yeoman Holdings to buy the estate for one-million pounds, saying she fears it would lead to the despoiling of the glen, a “second clearance” of the crofters, and the end of a “gentler, more decent way of life that’s in danger of being lost forever”.

She hopes to turn around the fortunes of the estate by using Greystane Castle for wedding packages, with particular emphasis on the US market.

It was therefore fitting that Greystane was the venue for her own wedding, which was attended by her father Mr. Keith Brodie and godfather Mr. John Hammond, both retired law-enforcement officials from Sausalito.

There had been considerable media interest in the wedding, given recent events in the glen and the troubled history of the Chisholm family. However, despite tabloid speculations relating to suggestions of a curse, the wedding went without a hitch, and a happy day was had by all.

Fairytale romance

EVERY WEDDING is special to the friends and family of those involved, but some strike a chord even with strangers because they have a fairytale quality that shows romance is not dead.

That was certainly the case with a wedding held at Greystane House in The Cranoch Estate at the weekend.

Cranoch owners Kate and Cameron Fraser—who hope to turn around the fortunes of the ailing estate by using it for wedding packages—said few weddings will mean as much to them as the one they arranged on Saturday.

The marriage was between estate worker Miss Mabel Weir and Mrs Fraser’s godfather Mr. John Hammond. The happy couple met at the recent wedding of Lady Kate and Cameron Fraser, hit it off, and kindled the
flames of their romance by means of email!

Estate ghillie Finlay McRae said that no one should be too surprised by the wedding—after all, to the amusement of all concerned, Miss Weir had caught the bridal bouquet at Lady Kate’s wedding!

Generous gesture

LADY KATE FRASER has given the crofters on the former Cranoch estate—now renamed Waterfall Glen—title to their land for a nominal sum of £1 each.

She said that
Highland Fling Weddings,
the business which she and husband Cameron formed in a bid to save the once ailing estate, had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams and the gesture was a way of sharing that success and celebrating the happiness of their own marriage with the people around them—people they did not want to look on as tenants, but rather as friends.

Asked if she thought this would lay to rest the “Curse of The Cranoch” which was said to have dogged the family since Lady Carolyn Chisholm cleared the glen to make way for sheep two and a half centuries earlier, Lady Kate said, “I guess only time will tell.”

INTIMATIONS (HATCHES, MATCHES & DISPATCHES)

FRASER:
Cameron and Lady Kate of Waterfall Glen are delighted to announce the birth of a bouncing baby boy in Raigmore Hospital on Sunday—and proud to call him JAMIE.

The final few steps were difficult. Though the injury to her leg had been a long time healing, and the pain had lessened greatly, it was still not gone completely. The last stairs to the ground floor had to be taken carefully, and Honneure leaned heavily on her cane. Finally at the bottom, she rested against the wall for a moment to catch her breath and wipe the moisture from her brow. As she did so, the hood of her cape fell back and she immediately stiffened with fear.

A quick glance up and down the narrow street assured Honneure that no one had noticed her. She pulled her hood back up, tucking in stray wisps of pale, wavy hair. The sidewalks usually teemed this time of day. No doubt the crowds had all gone to the square to witness the execution.

A wave of nausea coursed through Honneure’s frail form, so strongly it rocked her. She fought to keep down the meager breakfast of bread and tea Dr. Droulet had pressed upon her.

She could not be sick now. She could not. She had to be at the square also. She had to be there, at the end. She
could not allow her friend to die alone. No matter how great her own personal danger, the bonds of love could not, would not, be denied.