Authors: Gwen Kirkwood
‘For goodness’ sake, Henry, why don’t you borrow one of Josiah’s horses and take yourself for a good gallop,’ his mother snapped in exasperation.
‘On my own? Anyway, he doesn’t own a nag worth riding.’
‘Well, go for a walk, then, to get rid of your ill temper.’
‘A walk!’ Henry sneered. ‘I’m not in the nursery waiting for a walk with Nanny. I’m a man! I need some excitement. There isn’t even a decent maid to seduce around here.’
‘Josiah would soon send you packing if you attempted that sort of thing.’
‘Would he?’ Henry said in a low hiss. ‘He has taken the pick of them himself and he’s not even man enough to sleep in the same room with her.’
‘Henry! I’m warning you,’ Eliza snapped. ‘You’ll get both of us thrown out if you don’t behave like a gentleman, then you’ll have no option but to join the army.’
Janet heard her footsteps climbing the stairs. Henry muttered some response. Janet gave a sigh of relief when she heard him going outside, slamming the door behind him.
Henry’s restlessness and ill nature seemed to fill the household with tension. Janet was glad when Josiah asked her to accompany him for their weekly visit to Home Farm.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Henry demanded when he saw her dressed for outdoors on Friday morning.
‘I am accompanying my husband to Home Farm for the weekly visit,’ Janet answered civilly but her voice was cool, her expression wary.
‘Am I invited to come too since you provide no other entertainment for guests in this establishment?’
Josiah appeared in the office door at that moment. He closed
and locked it behind him, which was unusual. He had given Janet a key of her own but the door was rarely locked. Josiah slipped it into his waistcoat pocket before buttoning up his coat.
‘You are not invited, Henry, because this is estate business and in any case there is no room in the trap for you. As to providing entertainment for guests, if you had waited to be invited then we would certainly have arranged entertainment for you. As it is….’ Josiah shrugged his shoulders and turned to Janet. ‘Come, my dear, I think the Bells will be waiting for us. I told Mrs McLauchlan we should not be back for lunch today.’
Henry watched them go with narrowed eyes. His mouth set in a mean line. It was clear his precious uncle did not welcome his company and he had always been immune to both his charm and his complaints. How much longer was the sickly devil going to last? he wondered. Well, he would provide his own amusement and see how his uncle liked that. He turned and ran upstairs, but he did not go to his own room. He was intent on examining the door to see how Janet barred him from entering her room at nights. He did not notice Emma on the other side of the room where she was collecting the empty water ewer.
‘Can I help you with anything, sir?’ she asked politely, but her voice was icy as she watched him fingering the bolts on the back of the door. They had been well fixed and there were two of them. She was glad. She liked the young mistress. Maybe she should warn her, or tell Peggy Baird.
Peggy knew Donald had made a good job of fixing the bolts and all the doors were strong solid oak and would withstand the likes of Henry Ross, but she took the precaution of warning Janet about him snooping in her bedroom.
As usual, Janet enjoyed her visit to the Bells and Home Farm. Josiah always seemed younger and carefree as they bowled along in the pony and trap with the breeze in their faces and the sun on their backs. They were both smiling and happy when they entered the hall at Crillion Keep late that afternoon. Janet’s fresh young skin had a bloom that no artifice could achieve. Henry was crossing the hall. How did a pathetic man like his uncle make a girl so happy?
He was missing the excitement of the cockfights and the company of his gambling friends. He seldom rose until noon, so he slept badly at night. After midnight, he crept along to Janet’s door and turned the knob, hoping she had forgotten to use the bolts, but it held firmly. In frustration he heaved against it. Janet had been deeply asleep.
‘Hello? Who is it? Is something wrong?’ she called drowsily.
‘Open the door before your husband hears,’ Henry hissed. ‘Consider his heart.’
‘Go away!’ Janet’s pulse was racing. Henry heaved at the door again.
‘Don’t be a prim little bitch. I’ll show you what you’re missing!’ His voice was growing more impatient and unconsciously louder. Janet was sure the bolts would hold secure but her heart raced. Then she heard another door open.
‘What is all the noise about?’ Eliza Ross demanded.
‘Couldn’t open the door. Must’ve got wrong room….’ Henry muttered. Janet listened to their sibilant whispers and shivered. It
was a long time before she slept again.
Henry was even more restless the following day. The weekend stretched before him. Even a visit to the kirk on Sunday proved out of bounds because his mother didn’t want to advertise their presence at Crillion Keep.
‘There was no need to go to such lengths,’ Josiah said dryly during Sunday lunch. ‘Edward is aware you have taken refuge here.’
‘Have you sent word to him?’ Eliza demanded. ‘Have you betrayed us?’
‘Betrayed? Where else would you seek refuge, Eliza?’ Josiah challenged. ‘You have no friends who would hide you and your spoiled brat from his father.’
‘You have a duty to protect us.’
‘It is not my duty to keep Henry from a father who seeks only to guide him and make a man of him,’ Josiah said, his voice hardening.
Janet saw the tension in her husband and the pulse throbbing visibly in his neck.
‘Please don’t quarrel,’ she urged.
‘Be quiet, girl! Answer me, Josiah. Have you sent word to Edward?’
‘Do not order my wife to be quiet, Eliza.’ Josiah’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘I have written to your husband and the sooner he comes the better pleased I shall be. Clearly he is no more eager for your company than I am.’ It was unlike Josiah to be so blunt. Eliza gaped at him then turned her bile on Janet.
‘This is your fault. He never said we were not welcome until you came.’
‘Leave Janet out of this, Eliza,’ Josiah ordered. ‘If you are finished eating I shall retire to my room for a little peace.’ He stood up and Janet followed him. Henry stood in the doorway and watched her. His eyes widened in speculation when she followed Josiah into his bedroom and quietly closed the door.
‘You look exhausted, Josiah,’ she said softly. He saw the anxiety in her eyes and summoned a smile as he stretched out on top of the bed.
‘Eliza has always been exhausting,’ he admitted, ‘but I refuse to condone her behaviour. Henry needs discipline and the situation is creating tension in my household. I hope Edward comes to remove them soon.’ Janet unlaced and removed his boots and lifted his legs more comfortably onto the bed. ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he said gratefully. She reached for the woollen blanket, which was kept folded over a chair, and spread it over him.
‘Would you like me to read to you for a while until you relax?’
‘Yes, please, I would like that. You are a most considerate young person, Janet.’ He smiled at her. She drew up a chair and lifted the book from his bedside table and began to read. Gradually his eyelids drooped and she felt a wave of relief. Doctor Cameron had told her sleep was the best cure whenever her husband was upset or agitated.
She crept soundlessly from the room, careful not to fasten the door in case the click of the latch disturbed him. She crossed to the library and settled down to read her own book with a sigh of contentment. It was her favourite room in the whole house and it was one room both Henry and his mother avoided.
Josiah had seen how much she enjoyed the book by the late Jane Austen and he had bought her another called
Pride and Prejudice.
She was totally immersed in the story so she did not hear Henry Ross creep in as stealthily as a cat. She almost jumped out of her skin when he held his hands over her eyes.
‘Who…?’ she gasped. ‘Let me go! What do you want?’
‘You know what I want after the times I’ve tried to enter your bedroom.’ He slid one hand down her neck to her breast, squeezing none too gently.
‘Stop it! Don’t do that!’
‘Don’t pretend to be a prim little bitch with me.’ Before Janet could move, he vaulted over the back of the heavy leather settee and seized her, knocking the book out of her hand as he pressed her back. She struggled, but he was stronger than he looked. He held her tightly and pressed his mouth hard against hers. She clamped her lips shut but his kiss was brutal. She tasted her own blood as he crushed her lips against her teeth. She couldn’t get her breath. He moved to thrust his hand up her skirts and grope at her
drawers. She screamed. Fear and desperation lent her the strength and she hit at his face with the hard edge of her hand. Fingal had once told her it hurt far more than a slap. Henry swore and swung one leg over her, pinioning her down, trapping one arm painfully beneath her. Panic gripped her and she screamed in desperation.
‘Shut up, you bitch!’ He slapped her face with his free hand and clamped one hand over her mouth as though he would suffocate her. ‘It’s time you learned what women are for.’ She struggled to free her arm. ‘Keep still, damn you!’
Janet’s breath was coming in terrified gasps. He moved his hand from her mouth in an attempt at another brutal kiss, but she twisted her head this way and that, fighting him with all the strength she could muster. Her horror increased when she felt him tug at the strings of her drawers.
‘Help!’ she screamed. ‘Peggy-y-y. Help me!’
Henry gave a sneering laugh.
‘You might as well give in. I made sure both doors to the kitchen are shut. They will never hear you.’
Janet gave another piercing scream as his fingers touched the bare flesh of her thigh and he clawed at her stockings. ‘Be quiet,’ he hissed, wishing he had closed and locked the door behind him. ‘Is it possible you’re still a virgin? I’ve never had a virgin yet.’ The thought seemed to spur him on with increasing brutality. Desperately Janet scratched at his cheek with all the strength she could muster. He felt the trickle of blood and cursed.
‘I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll not forget, you little alley cat,’ he hissed, tearing at his neckerchief. He wiped the blood from his cheek, then before Janet realized his intention, he jerked her forward, pushed her free hand behind her back and tied her wrists together. He shoved her down again and fell on top of her, panting with exertion and excitement. The pain in Janet’s arms was excruciating, trapped beneath the weight of both their bodies, but she refused to let him see the tears of pain. He squeezed her cheeks together brutally and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She felt sick, but she bit his lip. His head jerked up. His eyes blazed and he slapped her hard. She sagged against the settee, but hate and revulsion boiled in her. She gathered her failing strength in one
last desperate attempt to resist. Lifting her knee sharply she tried to punch him. Molly Foster had explained the best place to hurt a man. Her attempt was futile. He caught her leg and pushed it high.
‘I see you’re eager,’ he sneered but Janet screamed in terror. ‘Help! Dear God, help me!’ she sobbed as she writhed and struggled and tried to roll him off her.
Neither of them heard Josiah enter, or saw him rush to the fireplace and snatch one of the daggers from its place above the high mantleshelf. He had never felt so angry in his life. His heart was pounding with fury as he lashed out at Henry. The short, sharp blade struck his shoulder and sliced deeply down his upper arm to the elbow. Henry yelled in shock as blood spread from the wound, falling onto Janet’s dress, the settee and the floor.
In the doorway, young Lizzy Semple stared in horror. She had been bringing a basket of logs to mend the library fire when she heard Janet’s screams and saw Mr Saunders hurrying across the hall. She had never seen him move so fast, or look so grim. Everything seemed to happen in a blinding flash. Henry Ross was on top of the young mistress, trying to force himself on her. She saw Mr Saunders grab the knife then there was blood, so much blood! Mr Saunders dropped the dagger and clasped his chest. His legs seemed to collapse beneath him. Lizzy dropped the basket of logs and ran for Mrs MacLauchlan.
Henry was clutching his arm and yelling like a stuck pig as he rolled away from Janet and onto his feet. Anger, emotion, the spurt of exertion – it had all been too much for Josiah. Janet sprang off the settee the moment she was free and threw herself to her knees beside her husband. She could not even reach out a hand to him and tears of frustration gathered as she struggled to free her wrists.
‘My dear Janet….’ he whispered. They were the last words he would ever speak.
‘No! Oh, no! Josiah, please don’t die. Please don’t die….’ She knelt beside him, laying her cheek against his blue lips. She was deaf to Henry’s cries that he was bleeding to death. She didn’t notice Mrs Ross enter the room.
‘He tried to kill me!’ Henry yelled at his mother. ‘I’m bleeding
to death. He tried to kill….’
‘Be quiet!’ his mother hissed. ‘You’re a mess.’ She jerked sharply at his breeches and fastened his buttons. ‘Listen to me! She!
She
tried to kill you!
She
killed him, then she tried to kill you. Do you hear me, Henry?’ She gave him a little shake. She stared intently into his face, willing her words to sink into his coward’s brain. ‘
She
tried to kill you. Remember that.’ Only then did she bend to tear the bottom off her cotton petticoat. Lizzy came running back with clean towels. She stopped on the threshold. The master was stretched out on the floor, white as a ghost, and Janet’s hands were tied behind her back. Maggie McLauchlan almost collided with her. The bowl of water splashed the floor.
Maggie set the water beside Mrs Ross and went straight to Janet. She bent stiffly to kneel at Janet’s side, her own face paling as she took in the full portent of the scene. She felt for the pulse in her master’s neck but she knew his life had ebbed away.
‘Untie me. Please,’ Janet whispered hoarsely through her tears, turning her shoulder towards Maggie. For a moment, she stared stupidly at Janet’s bound wrists, then swiftly she untied the silk neckerchief and thrust it in her pocket. One of Janet’s hands was numb and bloodless and she could have cried with pain as the blood began to circulate again, but all her feeling was for the man who had given her his name. She bent closer to wipe away the tears, which had fallen onto his dear white face.
‘I need a doctor! I’m bleeding to death!’ Henry yelled hysterically. Janet and Maggie looked up. There did seem to be a lot of blood everywhere.
‘Lizzy, ask Donald to bring Doctor Carr,’ Maggie said and rose slowly to her feet, her stiff knees reminding her she was not so young and supple as she had been once. What would become of them all without the master? As she passed her, Mrs Ross clutched her shoulder with hard, bony fingers. She stared pointedly at the neckerchief in her apron pocket.
‘If you and your family want to work you’ll keep your mouth shut,’ she hissed.
Maggie asked Riley, the Rosses’ coachman, to help Peggy move Josiah’s body to his bedroom. Janet followed them like a shadow
and crouched beside the bed. It was there Doctor Carr found her. He had insisted on seeing Josiah first but he shook his grey head in sorrow. There was nothing he could do.
‘He was a fine man, Janet, lassie. We shall all miss him. There’s many a one who doesna know the good he did. Will you write a letter to Fingal McLauchlan while I attend that whining cur in there.’ He jerked his head towards the library. ‘Josiah had a great opinion of Fingal. I’m sure the laddie will want to be here for the funeral. I will tell the Reverend Drummond.’ He wagged his head in despair. ‘He will arrange everything.’
‘Th-thank you,’ Janet said in a choked voice.
‘Go to Josiah’s office now then, lassie. Write that letter.’ Doctor Carr guided Janet firmly out of Josiah’s room. ‘I will see it catches the mail coach.’
‘She’s in shock,’ he said to Maggie. ‘I will leave something to make her sleep. Young Lizzy might need something too. Donald told me she had seen it all and run for you.’ His mouth tightened. ‘We’ve lost a good friend this day, all due to that – that spoiled brat behaving like an animal. Was Josiah in time, do you think?’
‘Aye, Doctor, I believe so but he’d tied Janet’s hands behind her back with this.’ She drew Henry’s neckerchief from her pinny pocket. ‘He meant to master her, poor lassie.’
‘It will do him no harm to suffer a bit now, then. The wound will likely need stitches. Bring me a bowl of clean water and a towel, will ye please, Maggie? Oh, and some brandy to clean the wound, and my needle and thread. It was the old dominie who told me to use spirits to cleanse the needle and thread. It will sting the young devil and no doubt make him squeal,’ he added with relish.
The cut was long and deep but Doctor Carr had no sympathy for Henry. It would need a lot of stitches and he would have a scar for life. He wondered whether Josiah had meant to stab the lad to death. He had not been a violent man. He had been sorely provoked.
‘Hold still, will ye!’ he ordered Henry brusquely. ‘And stop your whining.’
‘You’re hurting him,’ Eliza protested. ‘Can’t you be more gentle? He’s suffered enough. He could have been murdered.’
‘Murdered? He must have done something wicked to deserve murder….’