Page 88 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

Ophelia wrinkled her long regal nose in concentration. “So what are you saying?”

My heart heaved in my chest. I thought I could guess and Carson’s next sentence proved me to be correct. “Jonathan Gray wasn’t the father of Briar Forsyth’s son. Chadwick Gray was.”

Ophelia made a rasping, shocked noise. “What?!”

“I tracked down archived charge papers from the local police at the time. Chadwick Gray was accused of raping Briar Forsyth one evening in the run-up to Christmas when his wife and son were attending a local function. Old man Gray had a drink problem, which the family were desperate to keep under wraps.”

The disgust and venom I felt for Jonathan Gray and his father intensified. “The poor young woman.” I swallowed. “So what happened then?”

“Jonathan Gray found out what his father had done, when Briar discovered she was pregnant. He panicked. He had images of his inheritance and Castle Marrian slipping away from him, if there was a half-brother or sister in the mix.”

Ophelia toyed with one of her stud earrings, still processing this revelation. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. “So he had Briar blamed for stealing the tea set to protect that father of his?”

“That was the plan,” said Carson. “But in the end, it transpired Briar Forsyth wasn’t actually working on the morning of 31st January when the tea set went missing. She had an alibi and his story fell apart.”

Waves of delight on behalf of Briar washed over me.

“From what I then discovered,” carried on Carson, “Jonathan Gray knew he had to do something. I get the impression Briar was a brave young woman and wasn’t prepared to be bullied.”

He paused before picking up the story again. “Briar didn’t want to continue working at Castle Marrian, not after what had happened with Chadwick Gray, and with his devious son lurking around every corner. And who could blame her? But she wasn’t prepared to be bullied out of town either, especially as she was the innocent party in all of this.”

“Did she refuse to leave Briar Glen?” I asked, my admiration and sympathy for her growing ever deeper.

“She did indeed,” answered Carson. All Briar wanted was justice, and the Gray family had no intention of giving her that. “So Jonathan Gray then came up with the idea of trying to bribe her with the tea set, which he had accused her of stealing in the first place. It was especially commissioned by Chadwick Gray for his wife Leonora’s birthday.”

“And Ernest Telfer made it,” I added, giving the tea set another glance.

Ophelia frowned. “But didn’t Leonora question where it had gone?”

Carson’s long mouth tightened. “Reading between the lines, both Chadwick and Leonora were in on it. They wanted Briar gone from their lives, together with the baby.”

“Good grief,” I muttered. Leonora knew what her husband had done. She knew he had attacked a young woman in their employ and made her pregnant and yet she had gone along with her son’s devious plan to have Briar accused of something she was innocent of, just to protect the family.

“But still Briar stood her ground,” murmured Ophelia, her admiration for Briar Forsyth shining in her hazel eyes. “Good for her.”

Carson indicated the letter. “She tells Jonathan Gray where he can stick his tea set.”

My thoughts whizzed again to Briar and Ernest Telfer. “And when the Grays refused to accept the return of the tea set, for fear of the truth being exposed, Briar took it to Ernest Telfer, who crafted it in the first place.”

“Exactly!” proclaimed Carson with relish. “It didn’t take long for Ernest to fall in love with Briar. They got married and he raised George as his own and they lived out the rest of their days in Briar Glen.”

That gave Ophelia and me some comfort, knowing that this courageous young woman and her little boy at least found happiness and contentment with a decent, caring man like Ernest Telfer.

“And what about the Grays?” asked Ophelia, enthralled. “From what Sophie and I unearthed, they departed from Castle Marrian and moved away from Briar Glen in the spring of 1900.”

Carson nodded, confirming that was true. “According to the records I saw, they moved to some crumbling old estate in the Lake District, which swallowed up most of their cash, and they ended up living on fresh air. Rumours swirled about Chadwick Gray’s penchant for drinking and his attraction to young women. Like father, like son in this case. The stories about old man Gray affected his stables business. Customers vanished.” Carson pulled a face. “The landed gentry didn’t want to be associated with anyone who didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”

“They were shunned?” I asked, shocked, surprised and captivated by all this every bit as much as Ophelia was.

“Leonora and Chadwick Gray passed away within months of one another in 1904; she from tuberculosis and he from a heart attack.”

“And Jonathan?” asked Ophelia. “Whatever happened to him?”

“If it is any consolation, I think your aunt had a lucky escape.”

Carson rose up from his chair and moved towards his jumble of books. He rummaged in a bureau alongside and produced a bland-looking punch-holed folder. He flipped it open and rifled through the pages.

His serious face split into a triumphant grin when he located what he was searching for. “Ah. Here it is.”