AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It had to be done. It was for the good of MacDuff’s Run.” He added simply, “The good of our family.”
And that was the end-all of every argument as far as MacDuff was concerned, she thought. “Your family, not mine. Back off, MacDuff.”
“Our family,” he repeated. “Stop fighting it.”
“Can’t do it. The fight goes on.” She reached out and affectionately squeezed his arm. “These days you’re rich as Midas and have villages and distant relatives all over the property. You don’t need me around. Give it up, MacDuff.”
“I’ll think about it.” Then he smiled. “Nah, I’m a Scot. It’s not in my genes.”
“You’re impossible. I refuse to discuss it.” She was carefully turning the stiff pages of the diary. “And there’s practically nothing of interest in this journal. No other paintings or portraits like the one in the gallery. Just a few lists and what looks like diagrams.” She turned another page. “And this old faded green ribbon that looks like it’s going to fall apart.”
“I’m surprised it hasn’t.” MacDuff handed her a cup of tea. “I found the journal and diary buried in a trunk in the attic in the house of Fiona’s father, Jamie MacDuff, when I went exploring for the connection with you. They were in pretty sad shape. Yet as soon as I could tell what they were, I set about getting them restored. I wasn’t about to let them be lost.”
She frowned, puzzled. “And what are they?”
“The ribbon belonged to Fiona. She won it during the athletic games that were held here at the Run. It was sort of our version of the Scottish Olympics, and all the young people participated. Jamie MacDuff was a second son who was something of a black sheep. He was a drunkard and a gambler and seldom visited the Run except when he hit up his brother, Colin, for loans. He owned a house on the border and let his daughter run wild in the Highlands. But she was still allowed to participate in the games here and often won prizes. Those notes and diagrams were because she spent time researching the terrain when there was a race to be won. Take a look, they’re in great detail. She evidently liked to win.”
“Don’t we all,” she murmured. She was looking at the sheets again. “Very precise.”
“And the reason there were no portraits or sketches was that Jamie didn’t have any painted of Fiona until she was grown. He’d sowed all his wild oats and blown what money he had left. Then he decided it was time to use Fiona to become more respectable, so he had her portrait painted and began looking for a match for her. Preferably one that would give him the power he’d always envied his brother, Colin, having.” He shrugged. “That’s the portrait in the gallery. It’s an excellent painting.”
“Providing you want to sell a young, vibrant woman to the highest bidder,” Jane said grimly. “It’s no wonder the artist didn’t sign that painting. He must have had a conscience.”
“Or he wasn’t well enough known to have his identity mean anything important to the patron. Maybe Jamie was too poor to be able to afford anyone but a rank beginner,” MacDuff said. “I like your reasoning better. It’s probably not historically accurate, though.”
She looked down at the book again. “But I bet she must have been a good deal happier when she wrote in this book than when she was posing for that portrait.”
“I don’t know…I think she looks very bold and excited in the painting. Kind of…adventurous. Maybe she was looking forward to becoming the head of her own household.”
She made a rude sound. “You said that she took part in all those fantastic Scottish games as a young girl. You showed me how hard she worked at winning them. She even drew the rocks and creeks on the property. I doubt if she’d think that being some rich man’s glorified housekeeper would thrill her.”
“You’re speaking from your own viewpoint.”
Jane looked down at the diary on her lap. “No, I believe I’m speaking from hers. Did her father find that rich match for Fiona?”
MacDuff nodded. “Alastair Graeme. He was a man in his fifties, no title and not considered to be honorable by any means. He hadn’t been a border reiver for years, but he was very, very rich.”
“Reiver?” She was searching her mind for the meaning. Then it came to her. “They were raiders along the Anglo-Scottish border from the thirteenth century to the sixteenth century. So, this Graeme was a thief?”
“His family had been raiders for centuries. The practice had almost ended by the time Graeme inherited. But evidently, he was very accomplished and had a good many enemies. Practically no friends or respectable connections. And that could be why he might have taken Jamie MacDuff up on his offer of an arranged marriage with Fiona. The MacDuffs did have a certain status even then.”
“Friendless? That might also have put Fiona in a bad position. Besides being forced to marry a husband twice her age.”
“But she wasn’t forced to marry him. She was betrothed, but she disappeared a week before the actual vows.”
“Aha.” Jane grinned. “Now, that was the Fiona who won that ribbon. Good for her.”
“Don’t be so happy about it,” he said quietly. “If she did decide to skip out on Alastair, her father would have been furious. I told you he was a son of a bitch. He wouldn’t have tolerated the humiliation. There are all kinds of ways to rid yourself of a disobedient daughter. Perhaps throw her down a deep well? Poison? She might have even been buried in the dungeon at Jamie’s castle. At any rate, he would have hunted her down. She might not have survived.”
Jane’s smile vanished. “Or she might have. We don’t know, do we? I’ll just have to learn more about her.” She looked down at the second journal MacDuff had given her. “What’s in this one?”
“I don’t know. Less than the first one. No memories to ponder over. Addresses, a few names, something that looks like a trunk. Markings that I’ve never been able to decipher. See if you can.”
“I will.” She finished her tea. “And then I’ll see if I can find out anything more about what she was doing with that damn reiver.” She glanced around the library. “You have hundreds of books in here. You said that you found these two books in the attic at Jamie MacDuff’s residence. What about his libraries? Were there any other journals besides these books?”
“No, but she was evidently a great reader.” He shook his head. “Jamie’s library was purely for show. Fancy covers and not much content. Family history says he was no scholar and never picked up a book. He probably didn’t even know what he had. Jamie preferred hunting and the card tables. I sent a clerk to look the stock over, but he said none of the books in Jamie’s library belonged to Fiona. But evidently, she was a great reader because she told her tutor that she loved Shakespeare and Dickens and poetry.”
“Then where are her books?”
