Judging by the posturing and dramatic gun-swinging that was going on, Jamie had held aspirations of being a hero, of riding into the fight for James and single-handedly winning the day. He wasn’t so far removed from some of my Year Ten boys, I thought as I watched Jamie pointing his gun down the steep entrance to the castle, playing at defending against an enemy that would never come. He wanted to be the Big Man, wanted respect and admiration from his peers, when all he had was a depleted family entitlement and a sister married to an earl.
I turned away from Jamie and went back to the cellar where everyone was still sleeping, wrapped myself up in my blanket and, trying not to put my legs through the dog, fell asleep.
21
We were still in the cellar when we woke up that morning. Kaylinn was crying again, with Mal and David trying to comfort her while clearly in need of some comfort themselves. In order to avoid the slight atmosphere of accusation, I went to see George.
He was packing a small saddle bag when I interrupted him in his bedroom.
‘Oh, it’s my demon.’ He smiled his twinkly smile at me again. ‘Come to ensure I’m not sneaking off to fight?’
I had, of course, been doing just that, so I muttered something vague. He was wearing a frilled shirt, very much like the one Lachlan had on, although George’s didn’t have the tops of The Proclaimers’ heads poking out. Combined with a pair of breeches, boots and a short jacket, it made him look very dashing indeed.
‘Where are you going, then?’ I finally asked as he swept up a pile of papers and folded them into the bag.
George looked down at his packing. ‘Oh, I’m heading back to Isobel and my wee girls. If, as you say, it all goes wrong at the coming battle, I fear James will flee back to France. In which case I want to be seen to be far away and living a blameless life.’He sighed and sat down on the bed. ‘Aye. I should be fighting for my principles, demon, but you talk a good talk. I need to keep my lands for any future sons. You’ve given me hope that Isobel and I might plan for many more children to come.’
‘And I’ve given you the key to family riches,’ I said pointedly and he looked slightly awkward.
‘Aye, there’s that too. I should not be so venal and yet…’ He sighed. ‘My principles, it seems, are not as firm as I hoped.’
‘Find yourself someone who can decipher my writing – I’ve put in what you need to do. It’s actually quite straightforward so I was always surprised it took them as long to discover the process as it did.’ That was true. I’d spent many a lesson trying to explain to my students that all the Bessemer process did was to use air to increase the heat to the molten iron ore and burn off the impurities that had made it brittle and inflexible. With the resultant steel so many more things became possible. ‘But try to keep it secret while you rake in the money. It’s not officially invented for a century or so.’
George put his finger to his lips. ‘I shall pass it only to my sons.’ Then he added almost reflexively, ‘If we are so blessed, of course.’ The grin was back, along with a suggestive twitch of the eyebrows.
‘You don’t have any brothers? Or nephews?’ I asked idly.
‘No.’ The twinkle in his eyes faded to a shadowed and haunted look. ‘I had two sisters and a wee brother. Anne died of the ague at fourteen years, Mary and her baby died in childbed and our wee Malcolm was a sickly babe. He never thrived and was taken before he was three.’ George furtively crossed himself.
I murmured vague sympathies while quietly horrified. The eighteenth century must mean living with a permanent sense of horror at your back.
‘Well, I have my own family now. My wee girls, and hopefully boys to come.’ George seemed to shake himself out of thesadness. ‘And I shall ensure that steps are taken to keep us all out of any future battles. You were right, demon. Itisimportant that the McKells keep their name and lands. James has many others to fight for him, but my bairns have only me to ensure their future.’
He stood up again and poked a few more things into the bags. ‘I’ll leave the castle to Jamie for now. He can send the men home before the snows come in. They’ll be glad to get back; we mustered after the harvest but there will be work to do to prepare for winter. I may be called to court, if King George needs to be assured of my loyalties.’
‘But you definitely won’t fight.’ I kept my eyes on him, in case he was showing signs of wavering.
‘No, lass. I’ve learned the polite art of saying naught but thinking much.’ George gave a half-laugh. ‘And they cannae prosecute you for what’s in your head. I’ll stay the right side of the line, never you fear.’
‘Thank you.’ I looked around the room. Nope, I was still here. Still very firmly in the eighteenth century. I sighed. ‘Right. I’ll leave you to it.’
George looked into my face. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t know who you are or where you came from or even whether you are demon or angel, but I do know that you are acting in good faith. I shall try to do only good with the secret you have given me and I hope you find your rightful future, lass.’
‘So do I,’ I said fervently, and pushed my way back out under the tapestry. Perhaps Icouldn’tgo back until I was on the ground floor? I didn’t want to take any chances, and galloped down the stone spiral stairs, passing straight through two of the soldiers heading up without much more than an instinctive shiver.
The atmosphere in the cellar was thick with anticipation. When I rattled back down the wooden stairs, everyone leaped up.
‘Well?’ David asked.
‘Why are we stillhere?’ Kaylinn was tear-streaked but seemed to have stopped crying for now.
Lachlan didn’t say anything. He glanced once at my face, then back down at Cellar Dog with a small smile. The dog was whining softly.
‘He’s going to Edinburgh, to his wife and daughters,’ I said. ‘He’s leaving Jamie to pack up the castle. I don’t know why we’re still here. Sorry,’ I added, with a quick glance at the grimy basement.
‘I don’t suppose Jamie is going to undo all our good work by promptly forcing everyone to ride to Sheriffmuir, is he?’ Mal asked, picking at his nails in a carefully arch way. As though this was a thought that everybody had had and he was only sorry to be the one to raise it.
‘It wouldn’t matter if he did.’ Lachlan spoke now. ‘Jamie isn’t a McKell, he’s only a relation by marriage. He can’t lose the castle, because it’s not his to lose.’
