Jamie was clearly pleased when the ordeal was over and when I asked him what he thought about the meeting he replied: “I don’t think your father approves of me. He doesn’t know, of course, that we are engaged and what his reaction to that will be I can well imagine.”
“I don’t care what he says.”
“Well … I think it would be better for us to say nothing as yet. I am sure he has not reckoned on having the penniless son of a manse as his son-in-law.”
“It is something to which he will have to grow accustomed.”
“He is the sort of man who would want everything according to convention.”
Inwardly I laughed. I thought of Zillah, selected by him, creeping along to his bedroom. I said nothing. But I would remember it if he ever reproached me for unconventional behaviour.
“So,” went on Jamie, “for the moment we’d better plan in secret.”
I knew he was right and we had a wonderful time talking about the future.
He did say during the course of that conversation: “That stepmother of yours … she’s quite different, isn’t she?”
“Different from what?”
“From your father. She’s jolly. Good fun. I don’t think she would be cluttered by conventions. Do you know, I had a feeling that she would be on our side.”
“I never know with her. I have a feeling she is not all she seems.”
“Who of us is?”
We parted with a promise to meet in two days’ time.
Before I saw him again, Mr. Alastair McCrae, who had been a widower for five years, came to dine.
He was between thirty-five and forty, tall, upright and quite good-looking. He was a colleague of my father; and I knew he was wealthy for he had a private income and there was a family estate not far from Aberdeen.
I had seen him once some years before when he had come to the house to dine. I, of course, had not been present at the dinner party, but I had taken a peep through the banisters and seen him arrive with his wife who had been alive at that time.
My mother had mentioned him to me. “Your father has a high respect for Mr. McCrae. He comes of a very good family and I believe the estate he owns is very large.”
I was interested to see the gentleman with the large estate and I must have been quite unimpressed because all thought of the gentleman went out of my mind until the recent mention of his name.
Zillah said: “This is going to be a rather special dinner party. You know that dress I bought for you in Paris? It’s most becoming. Your father has asked me to make sure you are presentable.”
“Why should he be interested in what / look like?”
“Well, you are his daughter and he wants you to grace the dinner party with me.” She grimaced. “Between us, my dear, we’ll open this fine gentleman’s eyes.”
There were two other guests, my father’s solicitor and his wife; and rather to my surprise I was seated next to Alastair McCrae at dinner. He was quite attentive and we talked pleasantly together. He told me about his estate near Aberdeen and how he liked to escape to it whenever possible.
“It sounds delightful,” I said.
He then told me how much land he owned and it seemed considerable. The house itself was quite ancient. “It needs propping up from time to time,” he said, “but what ancient house doesn’t? The McCraes have been there for four centuries.”
“How exciting!”
“I should like to show it to you one day. Perhaps we could arrange something.”
My father was smiling quite benignly at me.
“Davina is very interested in the past,” he said. “History has always fascinated her.”
“There is plenty of that here,” said Alastair McCrae.
“There’s plenty of it everywhere,” I said.
Zillah laughed loudly and everyone joined in. My father was very affable, smiling at me as well as at Zillah. It was very different from that other evening when Jamie had been our guest.
I found Alastair McCrae quite a pleasant man and I was glad to see my father in such a mellow mood. I would ask Zillah if Jamie could come to tea. It would be more friendly than dinner as my father would not be there to assess him.
I asked her the next day.
She looked at me and laughed. “I don’t think your father would approve of that.”
“Why not?”
“Well, dear, we have to face facts, don’t we? You’re what they call of a marriageable age.”
“Well?”
“Young men … particularly young men who meet you in romantic places …”
“In those squalid wynds! You call them romantic?”
“Romance springs up everywhere, dear child. Those streets may not have been romantic, but the rescue was. And then seeing each other every day … looking at each other in such a charming way … well, that tells a good deal … especially to an old warhorse like me.”
“Oh, Zillah, you are very funny.”
“I’m glad I amuse you. To be able to amuse people is one of the gifts from the gods.”
I thought how she changed. I wondered if my father ever saw Zillah as the woman she was now.
“So,” I said, “you want me to ask my father if he can come to tea? This is my home. Surely I can have my friends here?”
“Of course you can and of course you shall. I was merely commenting that your father wouldn’t like it. Let us ask the young man to tea. We won’t worry your father with telling him. That’s all.”
I looked at her in astonishment. She smiled at me.
“I understand, dear. I want to help you. After all, I am your stepmother—only don’t call me that, will you?”
“Of course I won’t.”
I wondered what my father would have said if he had known she was in league with me to keep Jamie’s visit to the house a secret.
Jamie came. It was a very happy time. There was a great deal of laughter and I could see that Jamie enjoyed Zillah’s company.
I saw him the next day. It was easier to arrange our meetings now that Zillah knew and clearly wanted to make things easy for us. He told me how kind he thought her and it was wonderful that she was so helpful.
As for Zillah, she said he was a charming young man.
“He dotes on you,” she said. “He’s clever, too. I am sure he is going to pass all those exams and become a judge or something. You are a lucky girl, Davina.”
“My father doesn’t know we’re meeting,” I reminded her. “I don’t think he will approve of Jamie … not for Jamie himself, but because he isn’t rich like … like …”
“Like Alastair McCrae. Now, there is a fine man and, as we used to say, ‘well padded,’ which in the vernacular of the halls, my dear, means that he has a nice little fortune stacked away. I have to admit that your father would approve of him … most heartily.”
I looked at her in horror. “You don’t think … ?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Fond parents will plan for their daughters, you know. Your future is very important to him.”
“Oh, Zillah,” I said. “He mustn’t. Jamie and I …”
“Oh, he has spoken, has he?”
“Well, it’s all very much in the future.”
She nodded gravely and then a smile curved her lips.
“If my father objected,” I said fiercely, “I wouldn’t let that stand in the way.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t. But don’t you worry. It’ll all come right in the end. Don’t forget you’ve got me to help you.”