for so long, and I’ve been battling to decide whether or not to tell you. But it is your story, Lexie Gordon, so who am I to keep it from you? Besides,’ he adds, ‘I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, ever.’
I nod, impatient for him to get on with it. ‘I’d know, in any case. I can read you like a book. Tell me.’
He takes a breath. ‘Okay. Well, on the evening after Sir Charles was shot, Stuart and I heard the Carmichaels talking. They were in the sitting room beneath us, and because it was just the floorboards between us and them, we could hear everything they said. Mr C said the doctor would need to issue a death certificate and that he might have to call the local police as it had been so sudden, whether or not it was an accident. Mrs C was upset at that. “What will happen to that poor lass if she loses her father as well as her brother and her sweetheart? And what about the bairn?” she said. “It doesn’t bear thinking about. Do you suppose Lady Helen will be able to persuade Dr Greig to let it go?” And then Mr C said, “It’ll likely be the death penalty for Iain if she can’t.”
‘Stuart and I were supposed to be in our beds. But we got up and crept down the stairs, past the sitting room door which was closed to keep in the heat of the fire, and out the back. We’d done it loads of times before when we wanted to go looking for nightcrawlers on the beach to use as bait. We took our catapults with us and we ran all the way to Keeper’s Cottage. Our plan was to defend your mum and Iain if the police came. We had our gutties loaded and ready and our pockets full of more pebbles. We were prepared to go into battle for them, after everything they’d done for us.
‘We sat for ages in the dark on the steps at the front door. And while we were sat there, we heard your mum and your grandad talking.’ He tails off, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘What did they say?’ I prompt softly.
‘Well, Iain’s voice was low and we couldn’t catch much of what he was saying at first. But then Flora said, “No, Dad, I’m not going to let you take the responsibility for what I did.” And then we did hear Iain’s words, because his voice was loud and firm: “I’ll not let them take you, Flora. I’ll not let them take my grandchild. You saved me from his first shot. And I’ve no doubt the second one was to be for you.” Then your mum hushed him and their voices were lowered again so we couldn’t hear the rest.’
I scan his face, trying to absorb what his words mean. ‘Mum . . . ?’
He nods. ‘Soon after that they went off to their beds. But Stuart and I sat there as long as we could keep our eyes open, guarding the door. We nearly froze. Then finally we decided it was too late for the police to come that night so we crept back to the Carmichaels’ and no one was any the wiser.’
‘Did anyone else know?’ I ask him. ‘That it was Mum who shot Sir Charles?’
‘No one, so far as I know. Stuart and I never breathed a word about what we’d heard. Everyone else took Iain’s word that he was the one who’d fired the shot.’
The firelight flickers, casting its play of light and shadows over us both.
‘Then, in any case, Dr Greig issued the death certificate, no questions asked. So I suppose he was in on the conspiracy, too. I imagine Lady Helen would have been very persuasive. And the doctor must have treated enough of her bruises and broken bones to know what went on behind the grand doors of Ardtuath House. So maybe he was all the more inclined to do as she asked.’
I sit in shocked silence for a while, anguish tightening my throat. I could cry for my mother, who didn’t hesitate to defend her father and her unborn baby when the moment came. I could cry for the two wee boys who sat shivering at the door of this very cottage, their home-made slingshots at the ready to defend my family. And I feel an even deeper sense of shame for the way I’ve taken