The layout of the Elliot home was obviously familiar to Mrs Archer, Adam noticed when they arrived at Viewhill House. He and Jockie were all in favour of storming the door in order to rescue Grace, but the older woman counselled caution. ‘Wait,’ she said holding them back. ‘I must work this out. The stable’s empty and the horse is away so that means her father is not at home. If I can get inside I could free Grace before he gets back. Believe me, that’s the only way we’ll get Grace out of his clutches because Hester will never open the door to us. Then I’ll wait in there for him to return. I want to surprise him.’
‘But you’ll never manage to get in, it’s like a prison,’ groaned Adam, looking at the immense iron-studded door and barred windows.
In the moonlight he saw that she was smiling at him, however, ‘Oh yes I will,’ she said. ‘That’s one of the things I learned during a misspent youth. I know a way. Mary can come and help me. You stay here and warn us if Elliot comes back.’
She took Adam’s sister by the arm and led her towards the kitchen area where, in the semi-basement, she clambered up on to the sill of a low window. Hanging on to the pitted and corroded bars she scrutinised them carefully and then whispered to herself, ‘Good, they’ve not been replaced. What matters now is whether I’ve changed too much. I wonder if I can still get through.’
Bending her head she looked in at the glass and saw that the frame behind the bars was half-lowered and there was a marble shelf running beneath the window with a few brown earthenware bowls full of milk and cream standing on it.
‘I’ll have to step carefully or I’ll get a milk bath,’ Alice said to Mary and then started trying to squeeze sideways between the bars. ‘Oh dear, I used to be able to get through so easily,’ she groaned to the watching girl. Then she tried again but the gap was just too narrow and she said dispiritedly, ‘I was afraid of this. I’m fatter than I used to be. There’s nothing for it – I’ll have to take my clothes off. Don’t let the men come round the corner Mary, but stay and help me. Hold my clothes and when I get inside slip them to me through the bars – and be careful, there’s something in my skirt pocket that I don’t want to lose. I’ll probably need it in there.’
The moonlight shone brightly while Alice slipped out of her long skirt and cotton blouse. Then she bundled up her shawl and laid her shoes neatly side by side. Like Mary herself she wore no underclothes, not even a shift. They were unnecessary luxuries for poor women. After a few seconds she stood naked in the half-darkness, narrow-waisted and full-breasted, still lithe and beautiful, like an ageing nymph. Once more she climbed on to the sill and with a huge effort that made it seem she was in danger of breaking her ribs, she finally succeeded in squeezing her white body between the bars. She paused for a moment on the other side to catch her breath, then stuck an arm out for her clothes and whispered, ‘I’ve done it! Now tell the boys to wait and not to worry. Grace will be out very shortly.’
Mary passed in Alice’s clothes, noting how heavy was the weight of the bulky shape in the skirt pocket. She watched through the dim glass till Alice’s shape could be seen slipping ghostlike out of the kitchen and everything returned to silence and waiting.
Inside the house it was very still and dark. Though it was years since she’d been there, Alice was surprised at how much she remembered. With one hand reaching out she felt her way around the kitchen and her fingers told her that the paint was still peeling from the walls. Elliot, she thought, was as loath as ever to spend money where the expense would not show and a rush of anger rose in her as she thought that Grace had been doomed by an unloving father to spend her life in those dingy surroundings.
Very quietly she opened the kitchen door and crept up the uncarpeted stairs to the main hall where the decoration was more ambitious. Huge gilt-framed pictures hung on the walls, the floor was white marble and a bust of a Roman emperor perched on a tall plinth in one corner. The effect was so intimidating and chilly that the hall looked like the interior of an ancient temple.
The light of the moon coming through the glass panes of a semi-circular fanlight above the front door showed Alice the way up the stairs and she tiptoed stealthily, pausing to listen intently every time she took a step. When she reached the first-floor landing, she headed unerringly for the door of the principal bedroom and turned its handle very softly. As she had hoped, there was only one figure lying in the middle of the big bed. Hester, her hair flowing out over the pillow, was snoring loudly and Alice stepped silently across the carpet to pause by the bed, looking down reflectively for a few seconds before she put out a hand and shook the sleeping woman by her hunched-up shoulder.
Hester shrugged off the hand and murmured, ‘What time is it? Have they taken her away?’
Alice did not speak but shook the shoulder again till Hester opened her eyes, half-turned her head and brushed back the tangles of hair with one hand. When she saw that the intruder was a woman she gasped, ‘Who the devil are you? What do you want?’
‘You’ve not changed much, Hester. You’re still a slugabed,’ said Alice in a cold voice.
‘Who are you?’ asked Hester in a voice that trembled slightly.
‘Look harder. Don’t you know me?’ Alice’s voice was bleak.
Hester clutched the sheet up to her face and made a gobbling noise. ‘You’re not a ghost, are you? He said you were dead…’
‘He hoped I was dead. Bigamy’s still a crime, isn’t it? Where’s my daughter?’
Hester pointed above her head with a trembling hand. ‘She’s up there. I’ll give you the key. Just go away, Lucy, go away.’
‘Get up,’ said Alice grimly. ‘I don’t trust you. Come upstairs and let my girl out of there. You’ve been wickedly cruel as well as a liar and a perjurer. You should be made to suffer but I haven’t the time now. Just get up and don’t force me into anything.’ Her voice was cold and Hester saw that she was drawing a long-barrelled pistol out of her skirt pocket as she spoke. Any thoughts the red-haired woman had of attacking the intruder disappeared and she swiftly rose from the bed, running ahead of Alice into the hall and up a narrow flight of stairs to the attic. In her imprisonment Grace heard the approaching thud of feet and started hammering on the door with her fists, shouting, ‘Let me out, let me out!’
While Alice jabbed her in the back with the barrel of the gun, Hester unlocked the door, flinging it wide and Grace came charging through, hair wild and fists flying, no longer her meek and mild self. She looked like a raging fury as she knocked Hester back against the wall and was about to attack Alice too when she realised who it was standing behind her step-mother.
‘Mrs Archer! What are you doing here?’ she gasped.
Alice had no time to waste on explanations. ‘Get out of here at once. Adam’s in the garden waiting for you. Just get away as fast as you can. I’ll wait till your father comes back and then I’ll join you at Mudie’s tent.’ While she spoke she was pushing the girl towards the stairs. Grace did as she was told. Without a backward glance she flew down both flights and disappeared through the front door. When it slammed behind her Alice let out a long sigh of pent-up breath. Part of her mission had been accomplished.
Silence took over the house again and she brandished the pistol at Hester, smiling and saying, ‘Now we wait for our husband! Go back to bed, Hester.’
Their vigil was not protracted for soon the door slammed and a voice called out, ‘Hester, where are you?’
Alice nodded to the terrified woman in the bedroom who croaked out, ‘Up here. In bed.’
His footsteps could be heard hurrying upstairs and as he opened the door he was saying, ‘Get up, get yourself dressed. That damned Rutherford’s bringing Thompson here to look at Grace. They didn’t believe me – that daughter of his stuck her meddling nose in.’
On the threshold he stared across at the bed and said, ‘Don’t you ever get tired of lying there? Where’s the candle, where’s the tinder?’
There were sounds of him searching round in the darkness but he stopped when a voice came from a distant corner. ‘There’s no need of candles,’ it said.
Elliot whipped round and stared at a dark figure sitting half-hidden in a chair by the chest of drawers. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘It’s Lucy. It’s your wife,’ croaked Hester from the bed.
He did not seem surprised. ‘I heard a rumour you’d been seen in the town. Burns the grocer was talking about it. What a fool you are, Lucy. When they catch you, they’ll hang you.’
The half-hidden woman stood up and walked slowly towards him with a silver filigreed pistol hanging from her hand. When she was close to him she levelled the gun and he heard a click as she pulled back the trigger. ‘It’s loaded,’ she said.
He felt beads of sweat break out on his brow and held out both hands towards her. ‘Come, come, Lucy. Don’t be silly. I won’t give you away. I’d be happy if you just vanished, after all…’
‘After all you’re a bigamist and you knew I was still alive when you married her.’ Alice waved the gun at the terrified Hester.
‘No, I didn’t,’ he protested.
‘You did because I wrote to you asking you to send my daughter to me. But you didn’t, did you, because my father was dead by that time and you were helping yourself to Grace’s property. You committed bigamy as well as theft and you knew it.’
Elliot backed away with his eyes fixed on the gun and said soothingly, ‘You’re not going to shoot me, Lucy. That would only make things more difficult for you.’
‘Why shouldn’t I shoot you? You as good as murdered me. Lucy Allen’s dead right enough and it was you who killed her. You deserve to die for that and for what you’ve done to our daughter. Even if they hang me it doesn’t really matter providing I get revenge.’
His tone changed to pleading. ‘I’ll do anything you want, anything. Go away and I promise not to say you’ve been here.’
‘She made me let the girl out,’ squeaked Hester from behind him but they both ignored her as they gazed at each other over the menacing pistol.
Alice indicated the chair she had vacated and said to Elliot, ‘Sit there! I want to ask you some questions. First, who killed my baby? Was it you or was it her?’
‘It was her,’ he said, quickly nodding at Hester who gave a cry of protest.
‘But it was your idea, wasn’t it?’ Hester nodded vigorously at this. ‘You worked it all out so that I’d be judged mad or wicked – and either way you’d get rid of me. You must have been very disappointed when I didn’t hang but I suppose banishment was almost as good. It took me away forever and it let you get your thieving hands on my property.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, recovering some of his nerve. ‘Banishment from Scotland for the whole of your natural life – and a hanging if you ever came back.’
Alice sighed. ‘And you haven’t a scrap of remorse because I was banished for something I didn’t do.’
He snapped back, ‘You’d been unfaithful! You’d taken a lover and become pregnant by him. That child who died wasn’t mine.’
Her voice rose in anger. ‘How dare you! You’d not been in my bed for three years before I took a lover. You were in her bed – and in the beds of others too if my suspicions are right. You treated me cruelly. You made it obvious that you’d only married me for my property.’ ‘So then you fell in love… But he didn’t stand by you, did he? He soon disappeared when the scandal broke. You’ve not been much good at choosing men, Lucy,’ he sneered.
She shook her head, ‘Lucy wasn’t, but I’m better, much better. But that’s all past. What did you do with my father’s property? Have you still got a copy of his will, the one you took from Mr Anstruther’s office?’
‘Do you think I’d show it to you if I had?’ he sneered.
‘Then it’s a good thing that old Mr Anstruther privately kept a copy. His widow gave it to me yesterday. You didn’t know that, did you? Not everyone was entirely convinced by you. When you told my father I was dead he left everything to Grace and she inherits on the day she marries or when she reaches the age of twenty-five. What were you planning to do – poison her, perhaps?’
The guilty man was silent as he stared at her and she gestured to him to rise to his feet as she said, ‘Now we’ll go and look for the deeds of my father’s properties. I’m sure you still keep them in the same hiding place. You come too, Hester.’
For a moment it was obvious that Elliot considered refusing to accompany her but the set look on her face changed his mind. He knew she would shoot him as soon as look at him if he did not do as he was told.
She ushered them downstairs in front of her and into the library where she ordered Hester, ‘Lift the carpet by the window – there’s a loose board beneath it. Take it up and you’ll see a metal box. Bring it to me.’
When this was done, Alice told Elliot, ‘Now give me your watch keys. I’ll open it.’
He handed them over very reluctantly but before the box was opened a great thundering came at the front door and Canny Rutherford’s voice could be heard shouting, ‘Let us in, Elliot!’
Alice told Hester, ‘Let them in. I’d like them to see this.’
When the new arrivals Canny and Professor Thompson, appeared in the doorway, she was tucking a bundle of papers into the neck of her dress. She smiled and told them, ‘You’re just in time. We’ve been having a discussion about the past and my husband’s confessed his sins… perhaps he’ll tell you, too.’
She brushed past the astonished men and said, ‘He’ll feed you a pack of lies when I’ve gone but don’t believe a word he says.’ Still clutching the pistol, she strode through the bleak hall like a queen and out through the front door which she left swinging open behind her. The darkness swallowed her up.
The first Jem knew of Billy’s disappearance was when he announced his act to an expectant crowd… ‘Billy, the Strongest Man in the World, will terrify you all with his strength; this young giant has the strength of a team of six horses! Give a cheer for him, ladies and gentlemen!’ With a flourish, he threw a hand out towards the painted backcloth draped behind him but nothing happened. A sinister silence hung over the empty stage.
Jem stepped forward and lifted the corner of the cloth. His face registered surprise when he saw that there was no one to be seen in the area behind him.
Damn! he thought and then muttered, ‘Where’s Billy?’ A sickening feeling of panic rose in him as the next words that came into his mind were, ‘And worse, where’s Alice?’
Flustered, he turned to his audience and roared, ‘Billy’s not able to appear tonight, folks, but don’t worry, I’ll give you your money back.’
The dwarf called Hans was standing at the side of the stage and Jem thrust the leather money bag at him. ‘Pay them,’ he ordered and jumping off the stage, ran to his own caravan. It was forbiddingly dark and empty. One look was enough to tell him that Alice was not there. In a panic he headed for Billy’s waggon. It was dark there too but Long Tom’s daughter was sitting on the steps with her chin in her hands staring at nothing.
‘Where’s your father?’ asked Jem.
‘Dunno. He took Billy for a walk and he’s not come back yet. I’m waiting to give the big one his supper when he’s finished his act.’
‘Have you looked inside?’ asked Jem.
The girl shrugged. ‘Why should I? There’s no noise and no light in there.’
Urgently Jem pushed her aside and raced up the steps, throwing open the door. In the half darkness he saw that Long Tom was spreadeagled face down on the floor with Billy’s chains in a tumbled heap beside his hand.
Cold water wiped over the tall man’s white face revived him and in a little while he was able to sit up, rub his neck and groan, ‘It was that brute Billy. He could have broken my neck. He pole-axed me.’
‘But where’s Alice? She was with him,’ Jem asked anxiously. The loss of Billy was bad enough but to lose Alice was worse, especially now he knew that she was in trouble with the law.
‘She went off earlier. She told me to tell you that some lass called Grace’s getting married. She was so excited you’d have thought she was the bride herself. Oh, my head hurts!’ groaned Tom again.
Jem stood up with a look of confusion on his face. ‘Alice went to a wedding? And how was Billy then? You must have had some idea that he was going to attack you. Was he excited? Did he fight you?’
Tom was able to stagger to his feet by this time. ‘Not a bit, he was quiet as a lamb. I never thought for a minute… I even gave him a drink of whisky from my bottle.’
Jem put both hands up to his head and shouted, ‘You gave him whisky! That’s the worst thing you could do. How much did he drink? He’ll go mad. Oh, my God, he’ll kill somebody. We’ve got to find him – and I need to find my Alice. Close the show and send everybody out to look for Billy. I’ll go after Alice.’
The fairground was still packed full of people but the crowd now was made up of adults, many of them helplessly drunk and others looking for trouble. This was the time when respectable folk with their families stayed at home and the fights started. The squad of men from Jedburgh, whose duty it was to keep law and order, patrolled up and down wearing their distinguishing black bonnets with red and white rosettes, and carrying heavy cudgels in their hands.
Even these patrols kept well away from the area that the gypsies claimed as their own. It was left to them to do their own policing. In past years men had been murdered among the Romany people but the body was lifted and taken away by his tribe with nothing being done by the authorities to follow up the killing. The gypsies themselves never forgot those slayings, however, and ancient blood feuds ran high among them.
The Kirk Yetholm people had two main enemies among their own race. The families who came from Lochmaben were generally hated but the greatest loathing was reserved for the Romanies from Alnwick who were led by a man known as the Earl of Hell, a title that had been passed down from gypsy chief to chief through the centuries. The Alnwick Romanies were as bloodthirsty and savage as their leader’s name suggested. By the time darkness engulfed the fairground, all the gypsies were out in force with those from Alnwick and Lochmaben crowing in delight about Yetholm’s Jesse Bailey being beaten in the jumping by a chavi. Well before midnight a series of minor fights had taken place and a good deal of drink had been consumed. Gib Faa was marshalling his men for a proper battle. ‘I’ve just been told it was definitely an Alnwick man who fired the pistol that scared Barbary,’ he told his followers. ‘We’ve got to take revenge.’
Jesse, sitting with his arms around his knees on the edge of the conclave, staring into the blazing fire, shook his head. ‘Let it be, Gib. The chavi deserved to win for her nerve alone. We’ll get the last laugh because I’ve entered Barbary in the big race at Caverton Edge tomorrow and we’ll win it. None of the horses from Alnwick or Lochmaben will be able to catch him – I’m certain of that.’
But Gib was drunk and combative. ‘That’ll not stop them talking. There has to be a battle,’ he slurred.
Jesse stood up angrily. ‘Another battle, more murros. Who’s to be a corpse this year? You, Gib? Or one of you…’ His finger stabbed out indicating other men sitting around the fire. ‘Well, count me out. I’m not going to make a corpse just because you think that the Alnwick lot have played a dirty trick on you.’
Angrily he strode off, fuming inside. ‘Will they never learn?’ he asked himself, remembering previous Fairs and previous fights. There was the year his own father was stabbed and later the one when Gib’s brother died, with his head bashed in by Lochmaben cudgels. There had never been a year when a Fair did not end with at least broken arms and legs, stab wounds and more festering hatred.
Jesse could not understand why his people always had to react to insult or persecution with deviousness, trickery or burning resentment. They were certainly not prepared to turn the other cheek for their morality was based on different precepts to the Christianity which had been taught to Jesse by the old minister. It was difficult for him to reconcile the two philosophies and the gypsy part of him wrestled hard with the teachings of a man he had admired.
‘Oh, what am I going to do?’ he groaned to himself again. There were many things to consider, so many confusing elements to be taken into account. His love of the open road and freedom made it impossible for him to consider settling down to a job as a farm labourer, not that any farmer would hire him for gypsies had a bad name. He drew back from the idea of committing a crime that would win him a sentence of transportation to Australia for that idea was risky and convict life was brutalising. Anyway, there was no guarantee that the judge at his trial would not be feeling liverish and decide to hang him instead of sending him to Botany Bay.
During the French Wars, gypsies who wanted to get away joined the Army in place of better off men who had been balloted to go. Sometimes they were well paid for doing so but that escape route had gone now too for since peace had come, discharged soldiers were wandering the roads as tramps and to beg was bitter for a proud man.
Simon Archer’s Circus Royale offered Jesse an opportunity. He had done a turn in the ring that evening and knew that it had been well received, though it had not been spectacular. In time he’d be able to build up the act and thought that he might even enjoy circus life – at least it would mean travelling all the time. Yes, he thought, I’ll join the circus. After he’d raced Barbary at Caverton Edge the next day, he’d go back to the Archers and offer to join up with them, and then, when he’d saved up enough money he’d strike out for himself. Money, I need money, he thought, and smiled ruefully as he remembered the brown-skinned girl who out-jumped him for the ten pound prize. His stomach gave a queer lurch at her memory. It was as if she’d bewitched him in some way. She looked capable of it.
Ignoring Gib’s call, he walked away from the circle of plotting men. Flashes of distant lightning illuminated the deep purple sky over his head and he was halfway down the hill when someone ran up alongside him. A hand stroked his arm and Thomassin’s voice whispered, ‘Jesse, Jesse, come and sit with me.’ She indicated a cluster of women who were sitting around another fire and he allowed himself to be led over to its welcoming circle. When he got there he found that old Rachel was talking about the various people she had dukkered during the day. He sat beside Thomassin with his head half-nodding in sleep when he realised Rachel was telling her audience about the chavi who had won the jumping contest.
That brought him to full wakefulness and to listen intently as the old woman spat on to the ground and said, ‘A strange girl won the jumping prize from Jesse. There’s a mystery about that one. She thought she’d get away with dressing like a bondager but I could jin her. Her wast was as soft as silk.’
Jesse was about to say, ‘Yes, that’s because she’s a rich merchant’s daughter in disguise,’ but Thomassin interrupted him.
‘What did you see in her hand?’ she asked, in a voice that rose sharply above the others.
‘I saw riches, love, hatred, danger, distance… voyaging far and near like a gypsy.’ Old Rachel laughed. ‘It was a fine hand.’
Thomassin leaned forward with her eyes glistening and asked, ‘What about her man? What did you see about her pireno? Will she get rommed?’
‘Oh aye, she’ll be married. To a man that’s bango-wasted. When I told her that she jumped up and ran away as if she’d been stabbed.’
‘You’re a faker,’ shouted Thomassin, also standing up angrily.
‘Meklis, hold your tongue,’ said another of the women sharply. ‘Rachel’s only telling you what she saw.’
Thomassin pointed at Jesse sitting by her side, ‘But he’s bango-wasted and that chavi was casting the glamourie on him today! I saw her. I felt it.’
He stood up too and glared at the girl as he shouted, ‘I can do a bit of dukkering too. I know who that girl is. She’s a merchant’s daughter from Lauriston. There’s no way a girl like that’s going to marry a gypsy. Anyway I’m not the only man in the world who’s bango-wasted!’ Then he turned and strode away into the darkness. He could not understand why he felt so angry.
Before Canny left the Cross Keys Hotel with Thompson, he had ordered his daughter to go back to Havanah Court. For once she did not argue because there was a look in her father’s eye that told her he was in no mood to stand for rebellion.
When she reached home she lay down on her bed fully dressed and waited for news. The oppressive heat promised thunder and made her remember spectacular tropical storms when rain used to beat down on the fronds of the palm trees around her old home and she sat on the verandah with Elma, her black nursemaid, enjoying the thrill of the deluge. The thundering noise of falling rain always made her feel safe and very happy…
It took a few seconds to bring herself back to the present when Joe Cannonball knocked on the door and came into the room looking very concerned.
‘There’s someone to speak to you, Baby,’ he said.
‘Who is it?’ she asked apprehensively.
Joe shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He says his name’s Armstrong – it suits him.’
She followed Joe down to the hall where Mary’s swain was waiting, suspiciously eyeing the glories of Canny’s interior decoration. Odilie was very glad to see him and her face lit up with a smile as she asked, ‘What’s happened? Is Grace all right?’
He grinned back. ‘A woman with black hair got her out. Now she’s gone with Mary and her brother to the marriage place. They sent me to tell you to come.’
Odilie laughed and threw up her hands, her anxiety completely assuaged by the news. ‘That’s wonderful,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’ll come straight away.’
When she looked around for the shawl she expected Joe to throw over her shoulders, his face was grim. ‘You’re going no place on your own at this time of night, Miss Odilie. I don’t even know this fellow,’ he pronounced.
‘Oh Joe, but I know him. He’s Grace’s young man’s sister’s fiancé…’ She laughed at the intricacy of this explanation and went on, ‘He’s all right, Joe. I’ll be completely safe with him.’
‘You ain’t going any place without me,’ persisted Joe. ‘It don’t sound like the right time for any wedding if you ask me, but if you’re set on going, I’m coming with you.’
In a trio, they marched out of the house with Joe in the middle towering above the other two. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what Canny’ll say about this,’ he kept muttering as he strode along.
Patie Mudie had been sleeping on the floor of his tent when Grace and Adam burst in. Adam shook him by the shoulder and cried out, ‘Wake up, wake up. We want to get married.’
Patie grunted and shook his head. ‘It’s late,’ he groaned, looking at the enormous metal watch he carried on his person.
‘Are we too late?’ asked Adam but Patie shook his head again.
‘You’re too late for a pound, though. At this time of the night it’ll be two guineas.’
The young man searched his pockets and brought out a handful of coins which he hurriedly counted before saying, ‘That’s all right. I can find enough.’
Patie stood up yawning. ‘Where’s your witnesses? You’re got to have two witnesses or it’s not legal. They’ve got to see you take each other as man and wife,’ he told them.
‘They’re coming, here’s one of them now,’ cried Grace as Mary came running up to the tent, her face alight with excitement.
‘Jockie’s gone to fetch your friend,’ she panted out to Grace.
‘I hope he hurries up then,’ grumbled Patie. ‘A man needs his sleep.’
The complaint was hardly out of his mouth when Jockie, Odilie and Joe Cannonball came hurrying over the uneven grass. At the sight of Odilie’s manservant, Patie’s eyes rolled and the dogs in the tent set up a chorus of frenzied barking which was to continue all through the ceremony.
In spite of her delight for Grace, Odilie’s heart gave a stab of envy when she saw the young couple standing hand in hand at the door of Mudie’s tent but she immediately reproached herself for selfishness and cried out as she ran towards them, ‘How happy I am for you! God bless you both!’ Then she embraced them and told Adam, ‘When this is finished, come across to our stables with me. I’m going to give you a horse as a wedding present. It’ll carry you back to your Cheviot Hills.’
‘Come in, come in,’ came an impatient voice from inside the tent and they all looked round to see Patie Mudie holding open the flap to allow them to enter. His voice was as lugubrious as if he was about to conduct a funeral ceremony and not a marriage.
His wife, who had been sleeping unnoticed like a curled-up hedgehog at the back of the tent, was wakened too by this time and was writing out a marriage certificate on a grubby-looking sheet of paper that she had propped on to a wooden lectern.
‘Is this your other witness?’ asked Patie indicating Odilie, who nodded brightly. His tone did not lighten when he said, ‘In that case, we’ll proceed.’
He smelt of snuff and brandy when he stepped towards the couple, turned them to face each other and took the right hand of each.
‘What’s your name, lad?’ was his first question to Adam.
‘Adam Scott.’
‘Are you Adam Scott?’ asked Patie and Adam looked surprised before clearing his throat and saying solemnly, ‘Yes I am.’
‘You’re no’ merrit already, are you?’
‘No.’
Patie moved his rheumy eyes to Grace. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Grace Elliot.’ She knew what to expect by this time. ‘Are you Grace Elliot?’ came his question.
‘Yes.’ Her voice was quavering with emotion in spite of the absurdity of the whole business.
‘You’re no merrit either?’
‘No.’
‘You want to marry now?’
‘Yes,’ sighed the couple looking into each other’s eyes.
‘You want to marry each other?’
‘Yes,’ they chorused.
Mudie put Grace’s hand into Adam’s and then gabbled, ‘In that case, according to the law of Scotland and before these witnesses, I declare that you have taken each other as man and wife. That’s it, you’re married.’
He dropped their hands and turned to his wife saying, ‘Where’s the brandy bottle, missus? I’m fair dry.’
Odilie stood thunderstruck behind the newlyweds and gave a gasp of disappointment. ‘Is that all?’ she asked.
Patie turned back to glare at her. ‘It’s enough. It’s all that’s needed. They’ll get their bit of paper when I get my fee.’
‘Are you sure that this is legal?’ asked Odilie imperiously.
‘As sure as death. It’s legal, all right. I’ve married nobs, lords and ladies and some of them have wished it wasn’t legal because they weren’t able to get out of it when they changed their minds. So it’s legal, don’t you worry about that. Scots law’s different from English law. As long as two witnesses see the couple take each other as husband and wife, it’s legal.’
He held out a grubby paw in Adam’s direction. ‘Two guineas, laddie. That was the bargain, wasn’t it?’
Adam was reaching into his pocket for the money when the tent flap lifted and Alice Archer came rushing in. She ran over to Grace and held her close, one hand on the back of the girl’s golden head pressing it into her own shoulder. Both of them began sobbing as they clung together. ‘Oh, my dear daughter. Oh, my darling,’ cried Alice.
Embarrassed, everyone except Patie and his barking dogs looked away till the two women recovered themselves. Then, wiping her eyes, Alice asked, ‘It’s not over, is it? I haven’t missed it?’
Grace was reeling with shock. ‘You really are my mother. You’re Lucy Allen?’ she asked in a bemused voice.
‘Yes, I am, and it’s a miracle that we met. Oh, Grace, I’m so proud of you,’ wept Alice, holding her arms out again.
‘Oh, Mother,’ cried Grace, who was weeping too.
They clung together for a long time till Alice loosened her hold on the girl and gently asked, ‘Have I missed your wedding? Is it over?’
‘Yes, I’m married – Mother,’ Grace told her and Alice’s face showed enormous disappointment. ‘Oh, how I wanted to see you marry. I wanted that so much,’ she gasped, and looked so harrowed that even Patie Mudie’s stone heart softened.
He stepped forward to offer, ‘Och, don’t you worry, missus. I’ll do it again if you like. Might as well, I’m up anyway. It’ll cost you another pound, though.’
‘Daylight robbery,’ snorted Odilie, reaching into her pocket for a golden coin. ‘But here’s a guinea. Make it longer this time.’
He did not know any other formula however, and seconds later they were re-married by the same words. Then Patie’s mousey wife stepped forward with a broad smile on her face and presented the newly-married pair with a rolled up sheet of paper. Adam unrolled it and read out, ‘This is to sartify that on this day of August 3rd, 1816, Grace Elliot and Adam Scott took each other in marriage before Peter Mudie and the following witnesses at St. James’ Fair in Lauriston. The witnesses were…’
The place for witnesses’ names were blank and Patie’s wife told Odilie and Mary, ‘Here’s the pen, fill in your own names or make your marks if you can’t write. Then my Patie’ll sign it and it’ll all be legal.’
As they signed, the atmosphere inside the tent suddenly became almost festive. The lamps’ glow seemed warmer and more friendly, making the empty tent undergo a magic change and become a perfect setting for a wedding. In the golden light Alice lost her look of anxiety and bloomed like a rose as she watched her daughter being embraced by everyone. Grace looked really beautiful with her massed hair glowing and her face shining with happiness. She had been transformed from a shy and withdrawn waif into a golden girl and her mother’s heart was so full that it felt ready to burst. The tears that trembled in her eyes were tears of happiness. Even in her wildest dreams she had not imagined that something like this would happen on her return to Lauriston.
Joe Cannonball, spying Patie’s brandy bottle propped up behind his chair, bent down and grabbed it, drew out the cork, took a drink and then offered it to the person who stood next to him, which happened to be Jockie. ‘Here’s to your health and happiness!’ cried the young blacksmith, lifting the bottle to his lips and quelling Patie’s protests with glance of his eye. The bride and groom leaned towards each other in the middle of the tent and though they were exhausted by the rigours of the day and the intense emotions that they had gone through, they rallied the last of their strength and responded joyously to the toast.
Odilie’s eyes were glistening with tears of affection when it came to her turn to toast the pair. She had found their strange wedding almost unbearably affecting and kept leaning over to kiss Grace on the cheek or to squeeze Adam’s hand and whisper, ‘You’re so lucky.’
‘I know,’ Grace agreed. Her face was glowing with happiness as she looked at her husband and her newly-found mother. ‘I never could have believed that any of this would happen. Not in my wildest dreams. It’s like a miracle. Oh, Odilie, I can’t tell you how happy I feel…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw a bereft look come to her friend’s face and the spectre of the Duke hovered between them.
‘Let’s make plans,’ said Odilie briskly. ‘You’ll have to be on the road before dawn. I wouldn’t put it past your father to try to catch you so we must get you a good horse. Come home with me now…’
‘Before you go, I’ve something to give you,’ said Alice, proferring her bundle of papers. ‘Take these with you and read them at leisure. You’ll find plenty of interest in them. You’re a landowner, my dear. My father thought I was dead and he left you a lot of property that was to be yours on the day you married. I don’t want it. When this is over Lucy Allen will disappear again. She’s really dead as far as I’m concerned. But the property’s the reason why Elliot was so keen to keep you unwed. And there’s other things here that he’ll not want to get around. You’re in a good position to make him do exactly as you want, so don’t miss it.’
She laid the papers on the chair beside her and smoothed them out flat with her hand before starting to sort through them. ‘Yes, it’s as I thought – title deeds, wills, letters… He’s kept everything. That’s what a legal training does for you – you never throw anything away, even if it’s incriminating. You just keep it under the floorboards where other people can’t see it!’ She laughed with a bitter note. ‘You’ll probably find he’s been peculating other people’s money as well as my father’s. He’ll have been stealing like a magpie from local folk for years and he won’t want the news of it to get around or it’ll be Botany Bay for Andrew Elliot. There’d be plenty after his blood if they saw these papers.’
She rolled them up and handed them to Grace. ‘So here’s your wedding present from your mother, my dear. Guard it well. You’ll find in spite of his trickeries and forgeries, you’ve a good bit of property left. Make him give it to you.’ She turned to look fondly at her new son-in-law. ‘You’ll be a big farmer, my lad. You and your bairns’ll be rich. I like the look of you, though, and I think my girl’s chosen well. I give her into your care. Fight for her rights.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘I’ll fight, but what about you? What’s going to happen to you?’
She shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t be here at all. The law’s looking for me.’ But she turned and held her daughter tight once more as she said, ‘I must tell you my story before I go. I was younger than you are now when I married. I hadn’t any sense because I believed everything he said to me, the lying snake. I didn’t know your father was my maid’s lover and had been for a long time.’
Grace nodded and sighed, ‘Hester…’
‘Yes, Hester. I didn’t realise it, though. I thought she was my friend. I used to tell her things – what a fool I was! But after you were born Elliot stopped living with me, rarely slept with me. Hester told me he had a lover in the town and I was afraid to tackle him about it because of his temper. I was afraid he was going to kill me but I didn’t tell my father though he guessed I was unhappy. Then I met a man, a young fellow. I fell in love and I needed love so badly. We met here at St James’ Fair, and we found ourselves under the trees over there by the river. It happened so naturally… when I discovered I was having another baby, I was terrified. I knew whose it was and it wasn’t Elliot’s. He’d know that, too…’
Alice paused and stared into the past with bleak eyes. ‘I panicked. Hester said I should hide it. The dresses had fuller skirts than now and we were still wearing stomachers – they hid a lot. I didn’t share Elliot’s bed so he never noticed. When it was near my time, I went to Bettymill with Hester and was delivered there. I had a bad time. When I came round there was no baby and Hester said it had died. It’s on my conscience still that I was glad.’
At this Alice gave a sob and clutched her daughter’s hands. ‘I was really glad, Grace. I thought I’d got away with it. I went home but next day, out of the blue and without saying anything to me, my husband took a party of men out to Bettymill and found my dead baby in a little grave behind the house. It was a wee boy and it had been strangled with my garter. They said I did it. Hester gave evidence at the trial about me being pregnant and concealing it, and about me killing the baby. They believed her. They took me to Edinburgh and the judge there was sorry for me, I think. Instead of hanging me, he banished me. In a way I thought I deserved to be punished for neglecting the baby, for not caring enough – for being glad it died!’
Tears were running down Alice’s cheeks as she spoke and Grace put her arms around her mother whispering, ‘Don’t cry, oh don’t cry.’
Then Alice drew back and looked bleakly at her daughter. ‘The worst thing was that the baby’s father believed I’d killed it, too. He joined the Army and went away. He was killed in Spain, Mrs Anstruther told me.’
After they heard this story everyone was sobered. The time had come for the parting. With fervent promises to meet again, Alice and Grace embraced once more before the older woman slipped off into the darkness and headed back to the freak show. A chastened-looking Odilie ushered the others off to Havanah Court to select a suitable horse.
There were lights on upstairs so the girl knew Canny had returned home. She sent Joe in and headed straight for the stables with the others. The mingled smell of sweet hay and the sweat of horses was, as always, heady for her. There were fifteen horses kept in the big loose-boxes of the main building, most of them lying down now but a few of them slept on their feet with their heads drooping. They blinked their eyes when Odilie took the lantern from its nail at the door, turning up its low wick. Then holding it high, she stepped along the neatly-swept brick passage between the iron-railed boxes and as she walked she told Grace and Adam, ‘Come with me, take your pick. Choose any horse you like except my jumping mare because she’s not up to the weight of both of you. You need a big horse that can carry Grace on the pillion as well as you, Adam.’
They eventually decided on a well-boned bay with a fine head. His name was Oberon and he had a placid temper as well as enormous staying power. ‘Oberon’ll carry you to the Cheviots without any trouble at all. He’s so careful you can both sleep on his back,’ joked Odilie, approving of Adam’s choice.
The men saddled the bay and when she was safely installed on the pillion, Grace leaned down to put a tender hand on her friend’s cheek. ‘Dear Odilie, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I do love you. Don’t forget me when you’re a Duchess,’ she whispered.
Neither of them could say any more but only swallowed and stared at each other with deep emotion, tears sparkling in their eyes. It was Mary who broke the suspense. ‘Go away now and may God go with you,’ she cried, for she could bear the emotion of parting no longer.
Oberon’s reins were lifted and shaken and the couple rode off out of the stableyard with the horse stepping purposefully and Adam’s back making a safe prop and bulwark for the girl who laid her head against it as she waved her goodbyes.