CHAPTER 22 - A Reception at Girnington House

‘ONE FINAL QUESTION, Mr Cockburn,’ MacKenzie said as he dismounted at the gates. ‘Where were you the afternoon Lady Lammersheugh died?’

‘Do you assume the role of sheriff-deputy, Mr MacKenzie?’ Cockburn was clearly nettled.

‘It is only my inquisitive nature getting the better of me. As the family’s lawyer, I need to find out what has happened to Lady Lammersheugh. It may help Euphame.’

Cockburn’s tone softened. ‘I am sorry. Clachdean shows little application in his position. I had a meeting with Purse in Haddington.’ He took off his hat and bowed. ‘Until we meet again, gentlemen.’ Rousing his horse, he set off at a trot in the direction of Lammersheugh.

MacKenzie and Scougall entered a drive leading to Girnington House. MacKenzie observed the impressive structure as they approached, noting the Dutch gables tied across the front by a balustrade and fine portico. ‘What do you make of this afternoon’s discoveries, Davie?’

‘I am relieved to be away from the pool, sir,’ began Scougall. ‘I felt the presence of evil there. I have never experienced it so powerfully before.’

‘But what do you think about the necklace and the gun?’

‘Lady Lammersheugh may have taken her own life. I have heard of accused witches who have done so,’ he proposed.

‘Yes. She may have been overwhelmed by the accusations against her.’ MacKenzie stopped walking and turned to Scougall. ‘However, she would have expected protection from her kin if the case went to trial. She may have ended her life to escape the pain of grief. On the other hand, we have evidence that she was a devoted mother. The letter suggests that she believed that her life was in danger. Let us assume for now that she did not take her life. Clachdean, the colonel as he appears to be known in the parish, thinks it was an accident; a woman who could not swim fell into a deep pool. This is also possible, of course, but unlikely. He does not know about the letter. In addition, he may want little attention drawn to her death to minimise his workload. The presence of the necklace may indicate that Lady Lammersheugh was on the rock before she died, or that someone found it and placed it there for safe keeping, George Cockburn, for example. However, it was very careless to lose such a fine weapon in the woods. I must confess I am confused, Davie.’ They continued walking towards the house.

‘The presence of the gun may be unrelated, sir.’

‘Entirely possible. What do you make of the initials?’ MacKenzie withdrew the pistol from his cloak and handed it to Scougall. ‘AH has been carved at the bottom of the handle.’

Scougall examined the weapon, turning it round to observe the base. ‘Do you know anyone with these initials, sir?’

‘None of those I have met thus far – Lillias Hay, Adam Cockburn, Robert Dewar, Archibald Muschet, Theophilus Rankine, John Murdoch.’

‘It could have been purchased from someone else,’ suggested Scougall.

MacKenzie walked on for a few paces, deep in thought. ‘There were other footprints at the pool, Davie. I noticed some on the eastern side as we walked north. You may have seen me kneeling to tie my laces. And we have a shoe size!’

MacKenzie removed a piece of string from his pocket, holding it up to show Scougall. Bending over, he placed it beside his foot and then his companion’s. The string was longer than Scougall’s by an inch, and half an inch longer than his own. ‘It does not seem to belong to a woman unless Lady Lammersheugh had very large feet! Nor was it one of those who retrieved the body for I compared the length with them. We know that a man with large feet visited the pool alone over the last few days. But we cannot tell if this was before or after she drowned. We are fortunate that the weather has been clement over the last week, and rain did not wash them away.’

‘I had not noticed them, sir.’ Scougall was impressed by MacKenzie’s forethought to measure the prints.

‘Fear can heighten the senses, but it can also blunt them. Do not waste time thinking about Sinclair’s tales. Grissell’s death has nothing to do with the Devil, Davie. The answer is to be found among the inhabitants of Lammersheugh. As you know I am a student of human nature. Combining the pieces of evidence we find with a close scrutiny of the characters in the parish will help explain her death and, hopefully, save Euphame.’

Scougall was relieved by MacKenzie’s assurance that human agency was at the root of events. ‘It is possible that someone pushed Lady Lammersheugh into the water, found out that she could not swim and then threw the weapon away,’ he suggested.

‘Janet Cornfoot found a slight bruising on her temple which could have been caused by a fall into water,’ replied MacKenzie. ‘Drowning is the most likely cause of death. But much depends on the boy’s testimony.’

They had reached the front door of the house. MacKenzie indicated with a nod that Scougall was to knock. After a long wait a smartly dressed servant answered, gave them a cold stare and enquired as to their business.

‘I am John MacKenzie, an advocate in Edinburgh. This is my assistant, Davie Scougall,’ MacKenzie said politely. ‘We seek an audience with her ladyship on legal matters relating to the estate of Lammersheugh. Announce our arrival and arrange for our horses to be cared for.’

The servant bowed his head, but left them waiting outside. MacKenzie turned to take in the view of the gardens to the front of the house. He bent over to examine a shrub, smiling appreciatively. ‘Ah, Cytisus – Cytisus sessiliflorus was introduced from Italy in the early part of the century. And here is Trumpet Honeysuckle, Lonicers sempervirens, a native of America. Lady Girnington has employed an adventurous gardener.’

‘Her ladyship will see you.’ The servant had re-appeared.

They were escorted through the hall into a large room on the right. Lady Girnington was seated by the fire. She was wearing a dark silk gown. A luxurious blonde wig enclosed a vigorously powdered face.

MacKenzie reflected that Lillias Hay, Alexander Hay’s elder sister, had put on a great deal of weight in the twenty years since they had last met. She was arrogant then. He doubted if age had mellowed her. A great beauty in her youth, she had made a stir in London in the days of Cromwell. But there had been a scandal. He could not remember the details.

Mesmerised by the billowing dress, Scougall was reminded of a queen on her throne.

Lady Girnington did not rise to greet them. ‘That will be all, Leitch,’ she snapped. ‘Mr MacKenzie, it is a pleasure. I expect you are well,’ she continued in barely more mellow tones. ‘And who are you?’ The question was directed at Scougall, causing his face to turn red.

‘My assistant Davie Scougall, a writer in Edinburgh,’ MacKenzie interceded. ‘He hails from Musselburgh.’

‘An inhabitant of Musselburgh. I see…’ Holding back none of her condescension, she turned to MacKenzie: ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I do not remember seeking legal advice.’ Lady Girnington shifted herself slightly. ‘Sit,’ she ordered.

Scougall dropped into a finely upholstered French chair. MacKenzie took his time to make himself comfortable on another. ‘Thank you, my lady. I am very sorry we visit Girnington under such circumstances,’ he began in a slightly obsequious manner, ‘I believe we met many years ago. I am not sure if you remember.’

‘I do not, sir. Lawyers make little impression on me,’ she replied.

‘I believe it was over twenty years ago. The laird was still alive.’

‘I am happier as a widow than I ever was as a wife,’ she smirked.

MacKenzie returned the smile. ‘It was with great sorrow that I learned of the death of your sister-in-law. She was a charming woman who will be greatly missed by her children.’

‘You are right, Mr MacKenzie. However, their future is secure in my hands. Grissell was a soft creature who gave no thought to the future of Lammersheugh. Debts were built up, but little was done to improve the estate. Under my stewardship there will be change. You must remember that I was a child of the house. It is a place which means much to me. I have fond memories of it.’

MacKenzie had long experience of the arrogant wives of aristocrats and lairds. ‘Your ladyship, I seek to clarify some points of law relating to my deceased client. I am particularly interested in financial encumbrances upon the lands of Lammersheugh. As one of the guardians of Euphame and Rosina, I thought that you might be able to shed some light on them.’

‘I do not concern myself with such matters, Mr MacKenzie. I fear your journey has been wasted. Purse will help you with the financial details.’

MacKenzie sat forward, a serious look coming over his face. ‘I must remind you that Euphame languishes in sackcloth in the steeple.’

‘I am doing all that I can to secure my niece’s release,’ Lady Girnington replied. ‘But when the parish zealots get hold of a witch it is difficult to restrain them. Their appetite for persecution grows. The kirk session must have its day. However, I am sure Euphame will not be convicted. The case would be laughed out of court!’

‘I fear we must make haste if we are to save her from the humiliation of a trial in Edinburgh. She may not survive incarceration in the Tolbooth.’

‘It will not come to that, Mr MacKenzie. I have influence over Cant and the other little men of the parish. Persuasion will rein them in. After a night in the steeple she will be released. I am sure of it. I will stand caution for her.’

‘I presume you have already been in contact with the minister.’

‘Be assured that I am doing all I can to secure her release.’

MacKenzie took a deep breath. ‘I believe you are owed substantial sums from the estate of Lammersheugh?’

‘You attended the reading of Grissell’s will – it is public knowledge. Debts are, however, not purely financial in nature. I have no intention of going to law to get money back from my own family.’

‘What of your relations with Lady Lammersheugh?’

‘You ask too many questions, Mr MacKenzie. I am not to be cross-examined in my own home. Relations were as one might expect. I am as shocked as anyone by the terrible course events have taken since the death of my brother.’

‘Can you think of any reason why anyone might want to kill her?’

Lady Girnington hesitated before answering. ‘Mr MacKenzie, I am not in court. I do not need to answer your questions. All I will say is that I know of no reason why anyone might want rid of her. However, I do know that she was sorely afflicted by melancholy following Alexander’s death. This can drive some to seek unwise remedies.’

‘What do you mean, my lady?’

‘I mean that her servant, Janet Cornfoot, had a reputation for charming.’

‘You are surely not suggesting that Grissell was involved in such things?’

‘I am not suggesting anything. I think it is time for you  to take your leave, Mr MacKenzie. If you have any further questions concerning the debts, address them to Purse.’

But MacKenzie was persistent. ‘What about Euphame’s marriage?’

Lady Girnington could not resist replying. ‘Euphame’s value would appear to have fallen. We may find someone once she is released. The Laird of Clachdean is unmarried. He may be willing to accept her – on certain terms.’

‘Is he not too old for her?’

‘The caresses of an old man have been forced on many a maid. I doubt if she will have many suitors. Most men are reluctant to marry a woman accused of witchcraft, although I know a few who have taken one into their bed.’ She gave a humourless laugh.

‘Where were you on the twenty-second of October?’

‘Are you suggesting that I could have killed my sister-in-law?’ She laughed in derision. ‘Look at me, gentlemen. I am a fat old woman. It is difficult for me to stand unattended. I am helped into the gardens. I am carried to my coach. I am afflicted by grossness of the body, as my mother was.’

MacKenzie rose, indicating that Scougall was to do likewise. ‘I have only one more question, madam. A clock is hardly a generous gift to a beloved sister?’

‘The silly game of a deranged woman!’ Lady Girnington shook her head.

‘We have taken up enough of her ladyship’s time, Davie.’

They were shown out by Leitch, who observed them with unveiled suspicion. At the front door MacKenzie turned to him. ‘Was Margaret Rammage a servant on the Girnington estate?’

‘Yes, sir. She bided in Headshaw. A poor misguided creature. God rest her soul.’

At the gates they allowed a horseman entrance. The bulky frame of Clachdean was perched on top of the beast. He nodded sullenly to them as he passed.