The Heart Of The Clan

Chapter 1 1822-2

She reached the carriage and, when the horses set off again, she said to her father,

“I expect you saw me talking to a young man and a very handsome one.”

“Who is he?” her father enquired, “and why did he not come to meet me?”

“I asked him to do so, but he said that it might delay our arrival at the Castle.”

“Did he tell you his name?”

“Yes. It is Torquil McCarron and he said that his father was a first cousin of the Duke.”

Her father frowned for a moment as he concentrated and then he said,

“I have a suspicion of who he is and, if I am not mistaken, he is one of the family skeletons in the cupboard.”

“Oh, no, Papa! How could he be?”

“I will find out for certain before I say anything more.”

“Now you have made me curious,” Sona remarked, “and he seemed to be very resentful of the Marquis.”

“What did he say?”

Her father’s voice was sharp.

“He said that the Marquis, having had all the advantages of an English education, prefers to live with his friends in London rather than with his Clan in Scotland. Is that right, Papa?”

Her father hesitated and Sona sensed that he was choosing his words carefully.

“As you know,” he said at length, “I have not been back to Scotland since I married your mother, but nevertheless I have been in touch with many of my relatives and I have met Napier Inver in London.”

“You have met him!” Sona exclaimed. “What is he like?”

Again there was a perceptible pause before her father replied,

“Rather a strange young man and with a will of his own, which I can understand would inevitably clash with his father’s.”

“You mean they don’t get on?”

Colonel McCarron nodded.

“From all I have heard they fought continually until Napier went South to spend his time with the bucks and beaux who surround the Prince Regent.”

“Is there anything wrong in that?” Sona queried.

“A Scotsman would tell you that there is a great deal wrong with any man who would prefer the South to his native land.”

The Colonel paused before he added,

“At the same time I understand that it is largely due to the Marquis that the King intends to visit Scotland this year.”

“That will be wonderful for the Scots.”

“I suppose so,” the Colonel conceded and closed his eyes as if he were determined that the conversation should now come to an end.

*

Driving along the narrow roads that twisted between pine trees and over stone bridges that spanned streams running in cascades down the mountain sides, Sona puzzled over the bitterness in Torquil McCarron’s condemnation of the Marquis.

She told herself, however, that it was obvious that any young man who could not enjoy the same privileges was bound to be envious.

Before, when her father had talked about the Duke whom he greatly admired and his son, Sona had always thought of the Marquis as a Prince Charming with a background so romantic and so exciting that it meant more to her than any of the Fairytales she had been brought up on.

The battles in which the McCarrons had been victorious and the legends that were part of their history had been told and retold ever since she was a small child until she felt that she could not bear it if anything should spoil the wonder and glory of it all.

Because a Wedding was always exciting she had told herself that the Marquis had fallen in love with some beautiful Scottish girl and that their marriage would be another romantic story, which to Sona was more poignant than anything she could read in a book.

She was already aware that the bride, whose father was the Earl of Borabol, owned land that marched with that of the McCarrons.

“An eminently sensible match,” her father had said when the invitations arrived. “The Clans will stand shoulder to shoulder and support each other.”

It occurred to Sona that perhaps it was too obvious an alliance to be anything but one of convenience.

As the Marquis was always in England, it was unlikely that he would have become so enamoured of the daughter of the neighbouring Chieftain that he would wish to marry her.

In which case the marriage must have been arranged by the Duke and the Earl with the bride and bridegroom having little say in the matter.

Then, because the idea depressed her, she told herself that this was nonsense.

Of course, the Marquis, a grown man of thirty-two years of age, would not be forced into doing anything he did not wish to do, whatever his father might say.

If he wanted to marry, why should he not court a bride amongst the beautiful and desirable women, who, if gossip was to be believed, were found in abundance at Carlton House and, now that the King had moved, at Buckingham Palace?

It was stupid, Sona thought, but Torquil McCarron had upset her, and now she was worrying about what she would find at Invercarron Castle instead of looking forward to it excitedly and perhaps childishly as she had been doing.

As the horses drew them down to sea level and they crossed the bridge over the inlet of the sea, there was a straight road ahead and at the end of it Sona had her first glimpse of The Castle.

It was exactly as she had thought it would be with turrets and towers gleaming white against a background of dark fir trees and it stood high above the sea on one side with moors rising steeply behind it.

It was so beautiful in the gold of the setting sun that Sona forgot all the doubts that Torquil McCarron had aroused in her and felt that it was just as she had imagined a dream Castle would be for a dream Prince and Princess, who were to be married and live happily ever after.

Then as The Castle vanished amongst the trees she quickly tidied her hair, tied the ribbons of her bonnet and shook out the skirts of her travelling gown.

Her father still kept his eyes closed, but she was certain that he knew where they were.

“We will arrive in a few minutes, Papa,” she enthused.

“Thank God for that!” the Colonel exclaimed. “I loathe these long journeys! One thing I shall insist on, Sona, is that we have a good rest before we return home.”

“I am sure that the Duke will be delighted to keep us for as long as we wish to stay,” Sona replied.

“I only hope so,” her father said dryly. “He is an unpredictable man, so be careful that you don’t say anything to upset him.”

“I shall be very careful, Papa.”

As Sona spoke the horses turned in through huge iron gates flanked on each side by lodges with castellated roofs.

There was an avenue of ancient trees and at the end of them she could see The Castle again and felt her heart begin to beat more quickly.

‘This is an adventure,’ she told herself, ‘and there is no reason to be afraid! After all I am a McCarron!’

At the same time, when they were received by kilted attendants and found themselves in an impressive hall decorated with stags’ heads, Sona was aware that perhaps for the first time in her life she felt anxious.

She had never been shy, having helped her mother entertain her father’s friends ever since she had been a small girl.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere of The Castle that seemed overwhelmingly large or perhaps it was Torquil McCarron’s depressing words, but, as they followed the kilted retainer up the wide stone stairs that led to the first floor, Sona wanted to hold onto her father.

He was certainly looking very impressive, wearing his kilt, which he had donned as soon as they had crossed the border between England and Scotland, with his plaid held on his shoulder with the huge brooch set with a Cairngorm and his sporran swinging as he moved.

In a way he seemed different from the father she was so familiar with either in his uniform or in the riding clothes he usually wore at home when he was alone with her in the small rooms that could be packed, she thought, into one far corner of The Castle and hardly be noticed.

They reached the first floor and the servant paused for a moment before he pulled open two huge polished mahogany doors.

They went into what Sona knew was the Chieftain’s Room, which her father had often described to her when he talked to her about The Castle.

It was even larger and more impressive than she had expected it to be and, because there were quite a number of people present, she felt that their faces seemed to swim before her as the butler announced,

“Colonel Alister McCarron, Your Grace, and Miss Sona McCarron!”

Then they were moving forward to where at the far end seated on a chair that seemed almost like a throne was an elderly man and, as they drew nearer to him, Sona thought that he looked like an eagle.

There was the same imperious air about him, the same searching scrutiny in his eyes and, if the eagle was King of the Birds, the Duke in his own way was just as Royal.

The Duke held out his hand and she noticed that her father bowed before he took it.

“It’s good to see you, Alister!” the Duke trumpeted.

“How are you, Iain?” her father replied.

“I am well enough to see that this Wedding proceeds according to plan,” the Duke replied.

Then his eyes were on Sona.

She curtseyed and he remarked,

“You are like your mother.”

But it was not a compliment.

The other people in the room were men dressed like her father and Sona guessed that they were all relatives of some sort or another.

Then she was taken to her bedroom, which seemed to her to be a mile down a high passage.

It overlooked the gardens that lay below The Castle and beyond them was the sea sweeping into a crescent-shaped bay.

The evening sunlight glittering on the smooth water was as beautiful as the flower-filled gardens with the fountain playing in the centre of them.

“It’s all so lovely!” Sona exclaimed involuntarily and the housekeeper smiled.

“That’s what we want you to think. Miss Sona, on your first visit. I ken your mother well – a bonny lady she were. You must miss her.”

“I do,” Sona agreed. “I so wish that she could be here with us today. I expect you are very thrilled about the wedding.”

“It’s what His Grace has wished for,” the housekeeper said briefly, and Sona wondered that she had no more to say.

By the time her clothes were unpacked it was time for dinner and, because she felt that it was important to make a good impression, she put on one of the prettiest gowns she had brought with her.

She was glad that she had done so, for when she reached the Chieftain’s Room she found that the other women staying in The Castle were elaborately dressed in the latest fashion and covered with jewels.

Sona soon gathered that those who had already arrived at The Castle were the McCarrons who lived in the South and had been asked a day or two ahead of those who lived in Scotland, so that they could rest before the ceremonies.

Being a family of great standing and extremely wealthy, the McCarrons had made, Sona was to learn, brilliant social marriages.

Because they could pick and choose they had also married beautiful women and Sona, looking around, thought that it would be impossible to find anywhere a party that contained finer looking men or lovelier ladies.

Certainly the evening dress of the men was a perfect foil for the silk gowns and the diamonds that glittered on white skins or in the case of one beautiful woman with red hair, glowing green emeralds.

The Duke was not present and Sona learned that the Marquis would be their host at dinner.

“Iain, I am afraid, is in poor health and it’s going to be a severe trial of his strength if he takes part in all the festivities that have been planned for this Wedding,” she heard one of the older members of the party say to her father.

“The Duke is certainly making it a big event,” the Colonel replied.