Part 2 (1/2)
The question hit Andrew out of the blue. In fact, his mind had just drifted off to Helen, and he now looked embarra.s.sed.
Francis mocked in a singing voice: ”I think we found him out, the sneaky fellow.” He poked Andrew lightheartedly, but had already lost control over his movements, and the punch hurt. ”Keeping her all to yourself, you cheat! Who is she?”
”n.o.body you know.” There was little point denying the obvious.
”So there's no harm telling us. What's her name?” insisted James.
”I don't know. I've never talked to her.” As Andrew spoke, he realized that this was, in fact, true. For a moment he completely forgot about the others, until their loud laughter penetrated his thoughts.
”How delightfully innocent!” mocked James. ”Is she a local la.s.s?”
”I guess so. I only saw her once at the market in Killin,” he lied.
”And you've been dreaming about her ever since.”
The three exploded into laughter again. Andrew suddenly felt foolish and angry for letting himself get caught off guard. He made a half-hearted attempt to join in the laughter. Showing his discomfiture would only entice them more.
”I bet she'll be at the opening of the new Killin church tomorrow,” exclaimed James.
”Yes, if she's a local la.s.s, she won't miss the dance. Then you can point her out to us.” John grinned broadly.
”And we'll help you to get her away from the fair, so that you can ravish her.” There was a gleeful, conspiratorial antic.i.p.ation in Francis' voice. The other two cheered loudly.
Ravish Helen? The thought had never even entered his mind. How would that be? Through the slight fog in his head, he toyed with the idea. How does one ravish a girl? He dismissed the thought. He wouldn't know how to go about it.
”What d'you say? Wouldn't that be fun?” Francis poked him again.
”You could tell us all about it afterward,” James added with a grin.
”She might not want to leave the dance,” answered Andrew. Would she even agree to come to a secret rendezvous?
”Oh, just leave that to us. We'll manage.”
”All girls want to snare one of us gentry; believe me, I speak from experience,” laughed James.
”Anyway, it wouldn't be the first time we got a girl away from the fair, ha ha,” sneered Francis.
”Her folks might prevent her. We don't want to cause trouble,” Andrew countered lamely.
”What's the matter with you? Afraid, are you?” Francis gloated over him.
”No, I'm not. Why should I?” His tongue felt heavy. Yes, you are, challenged his mind. No, I just don't want to, replied his other self. But you're curious; you've wanted to do it for a long time. This is your opportunity. Anyway, she's only a MacGregor. The fellow in front of him suddenly became blurred. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. But the other three did not give him time.
”So, it's agreed then!” slurred Francis. ”Fill our gla.s.ses, Andrew, and let's drink to it.”
Something wasn't right. Andrew tried to pour, spilling liquid on Francis' hands. The latter, more seasoned to heavy drinking, s.n.a.t.c.hed the bottle away, shouting: ”Andrew, don't waste that precious liquid!”
Early Sat.u.r.day morning, after only a few hours' rest, Andrew woke up with a throbbing head. He had no idea how he got to bed, but here he was, still in his clothes. He removed his coat and s.h.i.+rt and staggered down to the trough in the courtyard, hoping that a good wash in cold water would soothe his splitting headache. He needed a clear head today. Dougan Graham wanted to catch his tenants first thing they arrived in town to remind them of their obligations before they were tempted to spend their money at the fair. He wouldn't be pleased at all if Andrew showed any signs of a hangover. And then he remembered Dougan's advice: drink lots of water before going to bed if you had too much booze. It was too late for that, but it might be of relief even now.
Back in his room while he got dressed, the events of last night suddenly hit him. How stupid had he been! Dougal MacGregor would cause a riot if they touched his daughter. Maybe the MacGregors mightn't come to the fair. But ever since he had known about it, he had been looking forward to seeing Helen again, and now everything seemed to be marred. And then came the realization of what he had actually agreed to. Ravish Helen! He had debased himself. Disgust and shame tightened his throat, amplifying the pain in his head. He slumped heavily down on his bed. Maybe he should just stay away from the fair. Claim that Dougan Graham needed him... But I want to see Helen, cried his heart. In fact, he had hoped to dance with her. How could you let yourself be dragged into this, you idiot? He closed his eyes and her image rose in his mind as she stood outside her cottage and their eyes met for just a precious instant. So proud! All at once so much more desirable!
Shortly before nine o'clock, Andrew set up the factor's booth at a highly conspicuous spot on the market square opposite the new church. The painful iron bands around his head had dulled, but the shame and anxiety was still eating into his self-esteem. He had to make certain his three drinking companions wouldn't discover the object of his fancy.
Dougan Graham joined him as the first tenants arrived in town. The young man's attention was quickly absorbed by looking up the rents owed, recording the sums collected, and making out the necessary receipts. It pushed his concern about Helen into the background. Occasionally, small disputes arose, one or the other tenant contesting the amount owed, hoping to take advantage of Andrew's inexperience. But he had a good mind for figures and knew the contents of the accounts book in detail. When the arguments got heated, some began to abuse him in Gaelic and were rather stunned when he swore back in kind in their own native tongue. n.o.body got the better of him. It was also obvious that Dougan Graham fully trusted his charge to do the right thing, and restricted his own job to counting the coins and stas.h.i.+ng them away in his burgeoning purse.
As at other times, Andrew felt that it was a rather ironic twist of fate that his fluency in Gaelic, picked up from the servants that had mothered him and which his English tutor had tried so hard to beat out of him as a boy, now became a great a.s.set in dealing with the earl's tenants. Although the lowland-born Dougan Graham understood some Gaelic, he did not speak it in spite of more than twenty years in the service of the Earl of Breadalbane.
Around midday, Andrew saw Dougal MacGregor march into the square, accompanied by his wife, two youths that already had many of the broad, tall features of their father, Helen, and several other couples of his clan. Andrew's heartbeat took a leap.
Dougal came straight to the booth. ”Aye, a good morning, Mr. Graham, I see you have young master Andrew with you. Good day, lad, how have you been all this summer?”
Andrew hardly heard him. His attention was only for Helen. Over a single, cream petticoat she wore a short, collarless, russet jacket, its embroidery in front accentuating her shapely figure. Her full, copper-red curls fell profusely over a narrow embroidered band, tied around her head in a vain attempt to confine them. A scarlet plaid was loosely draped over her shoulders to s.h.i.+eld her against the chill of the October air, its narrow blue stripes enhancing the color of her eyes. She wore new heelless boots. Suddenly, she raised her gaze, and their eyes locked on to each other for a moment before she lowered hers again.
It was Dougan Graham who answered for Andrew: ”Good to see you, Mr. Campbell. Andrew here has been very busy, getting to know all our tacksmen and tenants. Did he not come and visit you too? Early in the summer?”
”Yes, he did. One of the best discussions I've had for a long time,” replied Dougal, smiling benevolently at Andrew.
”Yes, he is a fine, intelligent lad and takes much of the burden off my old shoulders.”
”Aye, you are still in your prime yourself, Mr. Graham. All you need is the right woman to make you dance again,” said Dougal with a hearty laugh.
”You have hit the nail on the head, Mr. Campbell, you sure have. There is still a bit of a lady's man left in me.” Dougan Graham patted his pot belly with a pleased chuckle, and then his face resumed an official mien. ”You have come to transact some business, Mr. Campbell?”
”Indeed, I have, indeed. I have come to settle my account and put things in order, as they should be.”
”Andrew, tell me the standing of Mr. Campbell's account?”
There was no need to ask. Andrew had the book already open on the MacGregor page and answered immediately: ”Eight pounds nine s.h.i.+llings, sir.”
”I won't dispute that.” Dougal MacGregor began counting out the coins.
Andrew made the entry in the book and wrote out a receipt. Dougal MacGregor studied it carefully. ”Master Andrew, you write in a very fine hand, a very fine hand, indeed. You sure do. But now, I must not tarry any longer and keep my young people away from the fair, or I will never hear the end of it.”
He raised his hand to take leave and joined his group. As they walked away, he turned and shouted: ”Master Andrew, I hope you will come and visit us again one of these days, and bring another of your excellent bottles of claret along. My own are not half as good. Hear me?”
Andrew nodded and, noticing Dougan Graham's astonished gaze, blushed.
”So you brought him a bottle of claret... What a shrewd move, my lad, very shrewd, I must say. It pays to be on good terms with those Campbells.”
Andrew smiled, a bit embarra.s.sed, and then his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to Helen. His pulse quickened when he saw her look back briefly before the crowds milling around the stalls of the fair swallowed her up.
”Here comes your company, lad.”
Dougan Graham nudged him. Andrew turned, not at all eager to see his drinking companions ride into the square already.
”Good day, Mr. Graham,” James called out, ”we've come to take Andrew away from you so that he can show us the la.s.s he has fancied secretly all last summer. Say, Andrew, have you spotted her already from this unique vantage point?”