Alastair McCrae came to dinner with other friends of my father. He was seated next to me as before and he and I chatted in a very friendly way. He was quite interesting and less dignified than my father and he seemed to want to hear all about me.
The day after he called he asked us to spend the weekend at his country house.
Zillah told me that my father had agreed that it would be an excellent idea to accept.
It was a very pleasant weekend we spent at Castle Gleeson. I was rather taken with the place. It was small as castles go, but because it was of ancient grey stone and had a battlemented tower I thought it worthy of the name. It faced the sea and the views were spectacular. There was a sizeable estate and Alastair was quite proud of it. That was made clear when we drove through it in the carriage which took us from the station to the castle.
He was frankly delighted that we were paying this visit. It was the first time my father had been there in all the years of their friendship. That was significant, of course.
I enjoyed being shown the castle and listening to the history of the place and the part the family had played in the conflicts between Regent Moray and his sister Mary, of the troubles with the English enemy. I was fascinated by the hardy Highland cattle I saw in the fields. The country was grand, majestic and awe-inspiring.
But everything was particularly cosy within the castle. I had a room in a turret and there was a fire in the grate in spite of the fact that it was summer.
“The nights can get cold,” the housekeeper told me. I learned that she had been born in the castle; her parents had been servants to the McCraes; now her son worked in the stables, her daughter in the house. There was an air of serenity about the place. I was not surprised that Alastair was proud of it.
Dinner was served in a dining room which led from a hall which must have been the same as it had been for centuries, with stone flagged floor, whitewashed walls on which ancient weapons hung. It was darkish, for the windows were small and set in embrasures.
“When we are a large company we eat in the hall,” Alastair explained, “but this dining room is more comfortable for small parties.”
“What a pity,” I said, “that you are not here more often. I suppose the greater part of your time is spent in Edinburgh.”
“That has been the case. Business, you know. But I escape on every opportunity.”
“I can understand that.”
He looked at me intently. “I’m so glad you like the old place. I enjoy playing the laird when I can, but mostly the affairs of the estate have to be left to my manager.”
“You have the best of both worlds,” said my father. “It’s a very pleasant house of yours in Edinburgh.”
“But I always think of this as my home.”
Over dinner he asked me if I rode.
I said I greatly regretted that I did not. “There would not be much opportunity in Edinburgh.”
“One needs a horse in the country.”
“It must be wonderful to ride,” I said. “Galloping over moors and along by the sea.”
He smiled and leaned towards me. “Would you like me to teach you?”
“Well, I think that would be most exciting, but I couldn’t learn in one lesson.”
“One can learn the rudiments. It takes practice, of course, before you are able to handle a horse properly. But somehow I think you would be a receptive pupil.”
I laughed. “Well, one lesson will not take me very far.”
“It would be a beginning.”
“What are you two concocting?” demanded Zillah.
“Miss Davina and I are arranging a lesson in riding.”
“What a wonderful idea! An excellent opportunity for you, Davina dear.”
“Miss Davina is protesting that she cannot get very far in one lesson.”
“You never know,” said Zillah slyly, “there might be more.”
The next morning I was in the paddock, seated on a small horse on a leading rein, chosen for its gentleness, with Alastair beside me. He looked very distinguished in his riding coat. The housekeeper had found a riding habit for me. It belonged to Alastair’s sister, who visited the castle occasionally but hadn’t worn it for some time.
“She used to ride all the time,” the housekeeper told me. “The family has always been one for the horses. But since she had her children she doesn’t ride so much. I’m sure she’d be glad for you to use her old habit.”
The fit was not too bad. It was a little large for me, but it served its purpose and I was equipped for the exercise.
I must say I enjoyed it. Round the paddock we went. Zillah and my father walked in the gardens and came to watch us for a few minutes. They seemed very pleased.
At the end of the lesson, Alastair said: “You’re a wonderful pupil. We must have another lesson tomorrow.”
“I think we are leaving tomorrow.”
“I’m hoping to persuade your father to stay another day. Why not? We can travel back together on Tuesday.”
And so it was arranged and the next morning I spent in the paddock with Alastair.
At luncheon Alastair said to my father: “Your daughter will soon be a champion rider.”
I laughed. “You exaggerate. Besides, I shall not have the opportunity for all the practise I should need.”
“You must come again … soon, before you forget what I have taught you. We’ll arrange something.”
“That is most hospitable of you,” began my father.
Alastair raised a hand. “Please … the pleasure is all mine. What about the weekend after next?”
My father hesitated. Zillah gave him a sideways glance. He turned to her and said: “What do you say, my dear?”
“It seems delightful,” she answered.
“Well, Alastair, if you are sure we shall not be encroaching …”
“Encroaching, my dear fellow! As I have told you, the pleasure is all mine.”
“Not all surely,” said Zillah with a little laugh. “David dear, you know we should love to come. The week after next, is it?”
“That is settled then,” said Alastair.
We travelled back to Edinburgh on the Tuesday.
When I was unpacking Zillah came into my room. She sat on the bed regarding me slightly sardonically.
She said: “The McCrae affair progresses with speed. What a charming gentleman he is. Is he beginning to wean you from the impecunious but oh so charming Jamie?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, just is it going to be Papa’s choice or yours?”
I was alarmed. It was obvious, of course, but I had refused to think of it too seriously.
Alastair McCrae would be a suitable husband. He had wealth and standing in the city. Jamie was a humble student. He had his way to make and there was the question as to whether he would make it.
I had been stupid, while I was enjoying my riding lessons under the benevolent eyes of my father, not to accept the fact that this was part of a well-laid scheme.
How incredibly innocent I was! My father disapproved of Jamie, whose existence had brought home the fact that it was time I married and settled in life out of the path of penniless students who in his view were in all probability grasping adventurers.
There would be no questioning that with Alastair McCrae; he was probably more wealthy than my father.
Zillah was watching me through half-closed eyes. There was a smile about her lips.
I should be grateful to her. She was making me see life through her somewhat cynical but highly sophisticated eyes.
IT WAS SOON AFTER OUR RETURN that my father was taken ill. It happened during the night, but I did not hear about it until the morning.
Zillah said he had awakened her at about three o’clock feeling very sick. She had been up with him half the night. She had given him a powder to settle his stomach, she said. It was a well-known recipe for that sort of trouble. It had not been effective immediately, but after a while he had felt better; and now he was sleeping peacefully.