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© Dmitry Kudrets, 2018
ISBN 978-5-4493-8993-0
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There were various rumors about the Heather Valley in the city. It was a gloomy old castle, built of huge gray stones during the Middle Ages and miraculously preserved its original appearance to the present day. Located on the very outskirts of the city, opposite the cemetery, it inspired fear and fear in the townspeople. High stone walls, a fence made of the same boulders evoked longing, and seemed to keep terrible secrets behind them. Few dared to pass by this gloomy and gloomy structure late in the evening. And if anyone wandered here by chance, he tried to leave this unsightly place as soon as possible.
They talked about the castle a lot and everyone. Some said that ghosts were found there. Others - that an old lady lives there, who has not appeared in public for ten years. Still others ... But what can people come up with? Each repeated his own, and stubbornly proved and defended his point of view. But, despite the disagreements, everyone agreed on one thing - something was going on behind the high stone fence of the old mansion. But what, so no one really could say. There were, however, daredevils who tried to get over the fence, but the ledges and thorny thorns at the top prevented any attempts to learn about what was happening inside.
For a while the talk about the castle was silent, but then again became one of the topics of conversation. Moreover, the inhabitants of the Heather Valley, as the castle was called by a strange coincidence, from time to time themselves gave a reason to talk. There were also rumors and gossip about them in the city. Some said that some kind of sect was located in the castle. Others claimed that there was a correctional colony there. But, one way or another, the cautious townspeople tried not to collide with the inhabitants of the castle.
And the inhabitants of the Heather Valley lived their own lives. They led a rather reclusive lifestyle, did not communicate with anyone and did not admit anyone to them. Their appearance in the city frightened and at the same time aroused curiosity and interest among the townspeople. Hiding in their homes, they furtively watched from the ajar windows as a small bus stopped in front of a shop, and a group of girls and boys dressed in identical uniforms poured out of it, under the vigilant attention of two women dressed in the same strict gray suits ... The women went into shops, mostly bookstores and haberdashery, did some shopping, and returned to their pets, who were waiting for them outside. It happened that children were also allowed inside, but only for a few minutes. Most of the time they stared at the astonished passers-by, talking quietly among themselves. And although this campaign appeared quite often in the city, passers-by, when they appeared, tried to cross to the other side of the street. If the campaign went to a movie or an exhibition, visitors tried to leave the premises as soon as possible, shying away from the children, as if from lepers.
The inhabitants of the castle were unwanted guests in this city, although they had every right to do so.
But not everyone in the city was unfriendly to the inhabitants of the Heather Valley. Compassionate old women constantly set them up as an example for their sluggish grandchildren. Shopkeepers, seeing them, rejoiced, displaying their best products. After all, visiting their institutions by the inhabitants of the castle promised them a considerable income. The women who were constantly with their children when shopping, often argued with merchants like ordinary city squabbles, trying to bring down the price of one or another product. But they almost always yielded and paid the initial amount. If children made purchases, they unquestioningly paid, sometimes several times overstated, amounts, which undoubtedly went into the hands of the traders.
Heather Valley was not as closed an institution as it was said in the city. It numbered thirteen of the permanent inhabitants. Six boys, six girls and a woman who was called the headmistress behind her back according to her position. All the rest of the staff - cooks, cleaners, teachers lived in the city and went to the Heather Valley to work every day. Although it could not be called an ordinary job. The working day began at about six or seven o'clock in the morning and lasted until the evening. The workers were quite happy with this, since they paid well in the Valley. Even too good. Therefore, it was very difficult to get a job there, even with money and connections. Recruitment, as well as all matters, was in charge of the headmistress - Miss Bourne. A tall, thin woman, always restrained and laconic, she appreciated the applicants at first glance and almost always refused. Attempts to get settled again were pointless. Miss Bourne had a phenomenal memory. Having met a person only once, she unmistakably recognized him and respectfully greeted him at random meetings in the city, either out of respect, or mocking the unlucky supplicant.
The workers in the Valley were envied. But all attempts to find out what was happening behind the high fence were unsuccessful. One of the rules for the inhabitants was not to let outsiders into their affairs. But the idle townspeople soon found out that there was either a school or a shelter for abandoned children in the Heather Valley.
Access to the Valley for outsiders was strictly closed. Reporters and journalists from local newspapers and magazines, as well as all kinds of representatives of the guardianship authorities, municipality and education.
Miss Bourne herself was always the Cerberus at the entrance. She always met them the same way:
- This is private property. You have nothing to do here.
And so there was no choice but to watch the merry children through the lattice of the entrance gate. There was little to see, though. The growing trees and bushes were arranged in such a way that only a sandy path leading to the high porch of the castle could be seen through the openwork greenery. Everything else was safely hidden from prying eyes by the stone walls of the fence and the inaccessibility of the mistress of the castle.
The Heather Valley lived its measured, independent life. Children were housed in one of the wings of a huge old mansion in rooms for two. The rooms were furnished quite simply, but at the same time tastefully and in the latest fashion. They had everything they needed for their residents - a shower, a toilet, a washbasin. A study table, a wardrobe, shelves for books, two beds, a couple of chairs - that's all the furniture. But, despite the outward simplicity, many could envy the taste with which the wallpaper, curtains on the windows and carpets on the floor were selected. All rooms had the same standard set of furniture and differed only in the color of the wallpaper and the arrangement of furniture. The pupils themselves chose the color for decoration and complemented the furnishings with many more things that they liked. There was an unwritten rule in the Valley - no one can enter someone else's room without the permission of the owner. The service staff did not appear in this wing at all. Establishing and maintaining order in the rooms and in the corridor was the responsibility of the pupils. Only at the end of the week, at the allotted time, a washerwoman appeared here to pick up the dirty linen and bring fresh ones.
The rise took place at seven in the morning. After the morning toilet, the children went to the dining room at the end of the corridor to have breakfast. After breakfast, we went to the other wing of the building, where the classrooms were located. Each office had its own purpose, and the children moved from one office to another according to the schedule. The offices were equipped according to the latest trends in education, science and pedagogy. And if something was missing, the teachers made a request to the housekeeper Miss Feyzi and in a couple of days the most necessary things were delivered to them. But before shelling out money for a new book or device, Miss Feyzi talked long and persistently about its necessity, establishing its importance. And if the arguments of the person asking her were satisfied, she agreed. Knowing this peculiarity, the teachers did not try too often to impose on Miss Fazy.
Education in the Valley was quite casual. Before lunchtime there were classes according to the schedule, which was drawn up by Miss Bourne, and in the afternoon until dinner, the pupils were given the opportunity to study at their discretion. Some went to the classrooms, where, together with the teachers, they puzzled over some problem. Others went to the park that stretched around the castle, and there either wandered around or helped the gardener Mr. Peters. Mr. Peters was a silent old man who not only looked after flower beds, bushes and trees, but was also a janitor, and a watchman, and a handyman in one person. Children helped him look after the numerous flowers and bushes, or just kicked the ball on the playground. Someone after class returned to their rooms, where they were engaged in reading books or preparing for tomorrow's classes. Homework was not practiced in the Valley. The children studied the main part of the material and consolidated it in the classroom. And if they were asked something at home, then the tasks were rather creative in nature and were an addition to the topics studied. Also in the Valley, grades for oral answers and written assignments were not practiced. Ms. Bourne and most educators believed that grades were detrimental to the individual characteristics of children. Of course, it sometimes happened that one of the pupils could not answer this or that question or solve this or that problem. In this case, the teachers gave them a chance to improve and asked them in the next lesson. If this time the pupil was swimming in the foundations of science, then the teachers had no choice but to inform the headmistress about this, who chose the punishment. The punishments for each of the pupils were different. Hall Macpherson, for example, hated peeling potatoes. Miss Bourne was well aware of this, and whenever a punishment was imposed on Hall, she sent him to the kitchen, where, under the watchful supervision of Mrs. Doherty's cook, he peeled potatoes for dinner and the next day. Hall, after sitting over a vat of potatoes a couple of times, tried not to get caught in the future. To Tikhone Eric Lenard, punishment with potatoes, on the contrary, was a pleasure. Uncommunicative, reserved, he was constantly looking for an opportunity to retire away from everyone and indulge in his dreams and dreams. What Eric dreamed of, no one in Heather Valley knew. And after reading the books of Jules Verne, he imagined himself a great navigator and discovered new countries and islands in his imagination. And so that no one interfered with him, he, even knowing the lesson well, stubbornly remained silent and waited for the opportunity to go to the kitchen, where in the corner, sitting in front of a vat of potatoes, he could enjoy his dreams. Miss Bourne soon caught sight of this and, as Eric did not contrive, he was not sent to peel the potatoes anymore. As a punishment, Miss Bourne chose to read books on geography for him. She left him in the library with a stack of books in front of him, and periodically checked how much he had read. The poor quiet man sighed sadly over the books, realizing that everything had been open for a long time without him. This was the greatest punishment for him. In general, the pupils of the Valley did not seek punishment and the second time they answered, as expected, which pleased the teachers and the headmistress.
Life in the Valley proceeded at its usual measured pace. And Miss Bourne watched all this tirelessly. She was aware of everything that happened in the castle. Not a single, even insignificant event escaped her eyes, did not pass her ears. And although the inhabitants of the castle made their own decisions, the last word remained with her. She was the keeper, the vigilant guardian of the Heather Valley. She spent days wandering the corridors of the castle or sitting in her office over papers. Laconic and reserved, she seemed to be keeping some kind of secret. And even her closest friend and colleague Miss Fazy could not predict what Miss Bourne would throw out at one time or another. She was respected and a little afraid. Even the cook, the fat old Mrs. Doherty, who could have caused a scandal for a slightly rumpled tomato in the market, when Miss Bourne appeared, she wilted and tried to do something to get rid of her presence as soon as possible.
Miss Bourne disliked the cook, but the children loved her. She always had something tasty hidden in her kitchen. She spared no food and every day came up with new dishes, at the sight of which salivated. And on weekends, she threw whole feasts and was offended if the children left food on the plates. Miss Bourne tried to point out some extravagance to Mrs. Doherty, to which she snapped:
- I don't know how to cook out of thin air. If you don't like my cooking, then look for another cook. I will not be left without work.
Miss Bourne had no choice but to accept. Moreover, she herself was not averse to stopping by sometimes into the kitchen, having a cup of coffee and cake, and listening to the endless chatter of old Mrs. Doherty. Mrs. Doherty was quite obese, but at the same time rather agile. She coped alone in the kitchen. All attempts to find her an assistant were unsuccessful. Mrs. Doherty opposed this in every possible way. In the kitchen, she was the sovereign mistress and was not going to share this role with anyone. Of course, she alone could not fully manage to feed such a crowd. Each day, she was assisted in the kitchen by two pupils whom Mrs. Doherty had taught her how to cook, look after the cauldrons, and wash the dishes after meals, scrubbing the pots carefully. One could easily get a towel from her for escaped milk or poorly washed dishes, but the children knew that this was only a manifestation of the kindness that Mrs. Doherty exuded. Watching the kitchen for the pupils was not a punishment, but rather a reward. After all, Mrs. Doherty always had some unusual cookies, cake or just a handful of sweets hidden away. And when everything was tidied up after dinner, and there was still a lot of time before supper, Mrs. Doherty allowed herself to relax. She would sit on a creaky stool by the stove to have a cup of coffee, a couple of cakes or a slice of cake, and sigh for life. For all his talkativeness, no one really knew either about her family or about herself. And no one tried to get into the soul of another.
And so the days in the Heather Valley dragged on from Monday to Sunday.
Once, after breakfast, Mrs. Bourne made another round of offices. Walking through the bedrooms, she gave instructions to Miss Fazy, who, so as not to forget anything, wrote everything down in a thick, pretty shabby notebook. Nothing escaped the headmistress's gaze. Looking into Mr. Cox's study, who was teaching literature, she noticed that there were white spots from mugs on the polished surface of the teacher's table. Cox liked to drink tea during the class. He drank the tea very hot and the mug left marks on the dark surface of the table.
- What it is? Mrs. Bourne asked menacingly.
Cox apologized guiltily.
“I’m not opposed to being free in class, as long as it doesn’t interfere with learning,” Miss Bourne continued, ignoring Cox's apology. - Drink your tea, but do not spoil the furniture.
“It can be removed,” Cox muttered, trying to wipe the stains off the table with the sleeve of his jacket.
“Replace,” Mrs. Bourne said dryly to Miss Feisy, leaving the office. - And come up with some kind of stand so that Cox does not spoil property in the future.
“But the table can be cleaned,” Miss Feisy tried to intercede for Cox.
“I said to replace,” the headmistress said calmly. - We must have the best. And you should have dressed decently. You don't follow fashion at all.
Miss Fazy lowered her eyes apologetically. She really didn't follow fashion trends. She tried to dress as modestly and inconspicuously as possible, because she believed that her position as a housekeeper could not be combined with lush, bright outfits. After hearing the comment about her outfit, Miss Feyzi was perplexed, but took it as a motive for action. The next day, she showed up for work in a silk flowered dress, which immediately caught the eyes of the headmistress.
"Miss Fazy," Miss Bourne said dryly, appraising the housekeeper's new attire. - We have an educational institution here, not a brothel. Your outfit is too provocative. What example are you setting for the children?
Miss Feyzi immediately hurried to change her dress to a gray uniform.
As for the uniforms worn by all the pupils of the Heather Valley, Miss Bourne introduced them. And to all the children's questions why we walk in uniform, the headmistress invariably answered:
- It disciplines. This is your face. The face of our school. Stands out from the crowd. Take a closer look at how the people around you are dressed. Consumer goods. Everything is different, but in principle everything is the same. The only difference is in color and price.
And the children had no choice but to accept. Miss Bourne was conservative about dress. Her entire wardrobe consisted of several asphalt-colored suits and a pair of gray dresses, which she occasionally allowed herself to embellish with a handmade lace collar or an amber brooch. She was not so strict about the clothes of her pupils. The kids had a decent supply of sports, holiday and just a couple of things to wear on weekends. In class and in the city, they invariably appeared in uniform, as required by Miss Bourne. The teachers could come in whatever they wanted, but Miss Bourne unobtrusively watched over their wardrobe, giving advice (rather, instructions) about a particular costume. And the teachers, one way or another, agreed with her.
On Saturday and Sunday, when there was no class, the children went about their business. They spent half of Saturday tidying up their rooms and the area around the castle. After dinner some of the pupils would retire to the library with Miss Bourne and prepare for Sunday. Every Sunday, if we did not go to the city, some kind of holiday was held in the Heather Valley. The children themselves invented them, Miss Bourne did not get involved either in the idea of a holiday or in how to spend it, only occasionally giving advice on how to arrange it better. On the upcoming Sunday in the Heather Valley, they decided to throw a party in honor of Lee's birthday. The children wanted to arrange a celebration only in her honor - with gifts, with congratulations, with a big cake, but Miss Bourne hinted that it would be nice to arrange a birthday for everyone. The children happily agreed with this idea. In the Valley, this was the way it was - all the joys, all the events were common, so that no one felt left out. The main honors, of course, went to the hero of the occasion. But all those present received their portion of congratulations, gifts and cake. After submitting the idea, Miss Bourne retired on her own business, leaving the children alone to come up with a script for tomorrow's celebration. The children immediately began vying with each other to offer their thoughts. They argued for a long time, everyone tried to defend their point of view, in the end, they found a compromise and, in order not to forget anything, wrote everything down on paper. After finishing the script and distributing tomorrow's roles and responsibilities, the children began to congratulate. It was decided to give each of them a playful gift, and so that no one would know in advance what was prepared for him, they would be distributed by drawing lots, who would congratulate whom. With this we went to their rooms.
At ten o'clock, according to the regime, there was a retreat in the Heather Valley. But almost no one adhered to these rules. The children gathered in someone's room, discussing the latest news, making plans for the future, or just chatting about nothing. The strict Miss Bourne, before going to her room, always looked into their bedrooms.
“It's time for you to leave,” she reminded, and agreed to the requests of the children to sit a little longer. - Just don't stay too long.
Sometimes she lingered with her pupils and before going to bed she told them different stories that she had once heard. She patiently answered their endless questions. She spoke fluently, without unnecessary emotions, without raising her voice. Accustomed to her external coldness and inaccessibility, the children knew very well that you can always turn to the headmistress for any reason. And she will always listen carefully, give valuable advice on how to act in a given situation. She always delved into the essence of the problem, so that later she could agree with it or refuse it. But her refusal, her categorical NO, was taken for granted by the pupils and staff.
After chatting, the children went to their rooms. It was late and tomorrow was a difficult day. In addition, it was still necessary to come up with congratulations for each other. It fell to Hall and Bern to congratulate Lee and Vivian. Hall was lucky. For a long time he had been staring at the fragile, a bit like a Chinese woman, Li. But Bern was offended. More than anything, he didn't want him to get Vivian, with whom they didn't get along. Not a day went by that they did not hook each other with even a caustic word or an ironic grin. Hall quickly came up with a congratulation for Lee. He composed a short poem for her, which was nonsense for him. For all his practicality and prudence by nature, he was given an amazing ability to rhyme everything that could come to mind. Once in biology class, he answered a home paragraph with poetry. Biology teacher Mrs. Langeou, listening to Hall's outpourings, looked in amazement at the textbook and could not understand where Hall had dug Morgan's poetic law of crossbreeding from. The law, of course, sinned a little with mistakes, but the impeccability of the verse won the biologist over.
If Hall had everything ready, Bern decided to postpone everything until morning. Lying in bed, he looked at the ceiling and thought about something. Hall had been snoring on the next bed for a long time. Bern couldn't sleep.
“Hall,” he called to his friend. There was only a grunt in response.
“Hall,” Bern called louder.
- What do you want? - Awakened Hall turned in bed.
- Do you sleep?
“Sleeping,” Hall muttered, rolling over on the other side.
“Listen, Hall,” Bern continued, ignoring the grumbling of his roommate. “It seems to me that Miss Bourne is hiding something from us.
“Sleep,” Hall muttered.
“You saw how her face changed when the quiet man asked her about our parents.
“It's none of our business,” Hall snapped. - Sleep.
- Interesting, - Bern did not calm down. - Why are we never allowed out of school alone?
- Because we have nothing to do there, - realizing that Bern would not let him sleep, Hall climbed out from under the covers and sat down on the bed.
- How do you know? - Bern was surprised.
- Miss Bourne said.
- And you believe her?
“I don’t know,” Hall shrugged in confusion. - But since she said so, then it is so. Sleep.
Hall lay down again and turned to the wall, pulling the covers over his head. Bern fell silent.
“Hall,” came again from a nearby corner.
- Well, what else do you want? Hall began to get angry.
- Have you prepared a present for Lee?
- Yes! Sleep.
“I don’t know what to give me Vivian,” Bern was talking to himself rather than to a friend. “I can’t stand her, and she can’t stand me either. And as luck would have it, I got to congratulate her. It’s a pity that I don’t know how to write poetry like you. I would write that to her! Hall, can I give her a frog? She is terribly afraid of them. Imagine how much fun it will be. She unfolds the gift. And from there the frog - jump. And right at her. Here's the fun!
“Listen,” Hall snapped. - Give what you want, just let me sleep!
Bern sighed heavily.
- Hall, do you remember your parents? Bern said again.
“I didn't have them,” Hall said displeasedly.
- But you somehow were born, - Bern did not calm down.
- So what of this?
- Just. You know, sometimes I have the same dream at night. It’s like I’m in a room with blue wallpaper, and a woman with lush blond hair is leaning over me. And I'm a little one lying in the crib, stretching out my hands to her. She smiles at me. And suddenly everything disappears. Everything is so clear, so clear, as if in reality, and not in a dream. Hall, can you hear me? Hall. Does not hear. Asleep. Well, let him sleep.
Bern turned over and soon fell asleep.
In the morning after breakfast, everyone scattered to their rooms to get dressed and get ready for the holiday. Hall fiddled at the mirror for a long time, smoothing the naughty curl on his head. He wrote the poem he had prepared for Lee on a pink sheet of paper and decorated with an intricate monogram. Bern was tormented by a gift for Vivian. He did not want to give her anything at all, but he could not leave her without a gift either. After some thought, he took the first book he came across from the shelf.
Barbara Cartland
The cruelty of the Highlanders will never be forgiven or forgotten.
To allow farmers from southern Scotland and England to raise sheep in their mountain valleys and hillsides, clan chiefs liberated the land from the people, while resorting to the help of police and soldiers if the need arose.
Beginning in 1785 in Sutherland, the eviction did not end until 1854 in Ross and Cromarty. Hundreds of thousands of Scots were forced to emigrate, a third of them died of hunger, cholera, typhoid and smallpox in the stinking holds of rotten ships. 58,000 people left the UK for Canada in 1831 and another 66,000 the following year.
At the beginning of the Crimean War, the British turned to the Scots in search of excellent fighters. Between 1793 and 1815, 72,385 Scots led Wellington's armies to victory over Napoleon.
But in 1854, recruiters were greeted with bleating and barking. The representative of the people told the landlords: "Send your deer, your roe deer, your lambs, dogs, your shepherds and gamekeepers to fight the Russians, but they did nothing wrong to us!"
Now, among the hills and heather fields, there are no longer those who once participated in great and glorious victories, who glorified Scotland, and let the famous checkered fabric be their shroud.
The wind blew through Leona through every crack in the carriage. The carriage was expensive and made with good conscience, but now nothing could serve as protection from the cold.
The hurricane wind that raged over the heather-covered valley was so strong that the horses crawled like turtles.
For Leona, this weather was a real disappointment. Yesterday the sky was still clear, the sun was shining brightly, and Leona was calmly driving in her carriage, looking at the lilac heather fields.
She admired high peaks looming against the background of the blue sky, and rejoiced like a child, looking at the silver cascades of waters turning into rivers and streams.
“It's even more beautiful than my mother described,” the girl thought. She knew: there is nothing more exciting in the world than traveling through Scotland.
From childhood, Leona heard about the brave inhabitants of the mountains, about powerful clans and about the devotion of the Jacobites to the "King of the Sea" - a legend about the true heroism of real men.
For her mother, all this was so real, touching and filled with nostalgia that when she began to talk, her voice trembled from the feelings she experienced. Leona can never forget this.
For Elizabeth McDonald, the Campbell betrayal at Glencoe felt like yesterday.
Despite the fact that she lived for a long time far from her native places, she was before last day in thought, word and deed she remained Scottish.
“Your mother loves me very dearly, but for her I am just an Englishman anyway,” Leona's father would sometimes say and smile.
Of course, he was joking, but that Elizabeth loved him very much, Leona's father was absolutely right.
Leona could not imagine that any other man and woman could be happier together than her parents.
They were desperately poor, but that made absolutely no difference.
When Richard Grenville was released from military service for health reasons, he was left with only a pension and a dilapidated house in Essex. There he lived with his wife and Leona - their only child.
He was busy with the housework leisurely, but without much enthusiasm, to the table they had chickens, eggs, ducks, turkeys and sometimes even lamb.
Lack of money never seemed like a big deal. They got along just fine without smart clothes, handsome carriages, and visits to London.
The main thing is that they were together.
It seemed to Leone that her house was constantly filled with sunlight and fun, even if the upholstery on the furniture was frayed almost to the holes, and the curtains were faded so that it was impossible to determine their original color.
We were happy ... so happy, she told herself, until my father died.
Richard Grenville died suddenly of a heart attack, and his wife lost her will to live. Without him, life had no meaning.
She fell into a sad, depressed state, from which even her daughter could not bring her out.
Mom, go and look at the little chickens, - Leona persuaded her. Sometimes the girl asked her mother to help her cope with two horses - their only means of transportation.
But Mrs. Grenville was melting before our eyes. She sat at home all day, immersed in memories and counting the days until the moment when she could finally be reunited with her husband.
She almost did not think about Leon and did not make any plans for her account.
You don't have to die, Mom, ”Leona once told her in complete despair.
She could almost see her mother slipping away into an unknown world, where, as she was convinced, her beloved husband was waiting for her.
Leona's words did not seem to make any impression on her mother, and, losing all hope, she added:
What will become of me? What should I do, mom, if you leave me?
It seemed that the thought of the fate of her daughter came to Elizabeth's mind just now.
You can't stay here, honey.
I can't do it alone, Leona agreed. “Besides, when you die, I won't even have your widow's allowance to feed myself.
Mrs. Grenville closed her eyes: she did not like the reminder that she was a widow. Then she said slowly "
Bring me my writing materials.
Who are you going to write to, Mom? - Leona asked with interest, fulfilling her request.
She knew that they had very few relatives. My father's parents were from Devonshire and died a long time ago.
Her mother was born near Loch Leuven, but was orphaned before she married, and lived with her elderly uncle and aunt, who died shortly after she left south.
Leona suggested that there must have been some father or mother cousins whom she had never met.
I am writing, ”Elizabeth Grenville said quietly,“ to the best friend of my childhood.
Leona silently waited for the continuation.
Jenny McLeod and I grew up together, ”she said. - And since my parents died early, I lived in her house for months, and sometimes she came to visit me.
Mom gazed dreamily into space, plunged into childhood memories.
Jenny's parents brought me out for the first time, it was a grand ball in Edinburgh, we were both almost eighteen then, and when I left Scotland with your father, the only thing I regretted was that I would no longer be able to see Jenny so often.
Lord Stratkarn got up from his high-backed chair and asked:
Would you like to see how they dance in Scotland?
I really, really want! Leona exclaimed. “But shouldn't I leave you?
I think I'll do without port today, ”he replied, and led her up a high stone staircase to the next floor.
Mother told Leone that in every Scottish castle there is a so-called "room of the head of the clan." This is the place where he receives his companions, where battle plans are drawn up and where they have fun.
Of course, Leona saw in her imagination an incredibly large, solemn hall, but as soon as they entered, she almost gasped in surprise and surprise.
It seemed that this hall stretched in length across the entire castle. At one end was a music gallery, all the walls were hung with deer heads and antlers, shields and old broadswords.
But the most unusual thing was the wood-trimmed ceiling. It housed the weapons of the Strathkarn clan.
Thick logs burned in the fireplace, as Leona expected, and clan members wandered around the hall, waiting for the leader, dressed in McCarn's flowers.
All this looked very colorful, but Leona knew that the clothes of the Scottish Highlanders appeared relatively recently, and in the recent past it was not just a highlander's kilt, not just a piece of cloth that signified belonging to a particular clan, but a motto, a special insignia.
Each clan has its own motto, a warlike and furious call to fight to the death and remember the heroic past. It was possible to determine which clan a person belonged to by the special signs made of heather, oak or myrtle, which they wore under their hats.
Each plant had its own mystical meaning, protected from witchcraft and misfortune, and this plant was also an essential item in the life of the clan. The McNeiles, for example, had seaweed.
"It was seaweed," Mrs. Grenville explained, "that the McNeills fertilized the barren lands of their western islands."
The McCarns wore beautifully cut kilts, the folds of which flew apart as they walked.
Lord Stratkarn led Leona to a small area next to the music gallery, which contained two high-backed chairs decorated with heraldic designs.
They sat down, and immediately the members of the clan began to dance incendiary Scottish dances.
Leone was often told of the lightness and agility that Scottish men displayed in dance. Now she could see with her own eyes that this was not an exaggeration.
The Scots held their backs and pulled the toe, they danced the reel. And the bagpipes sobbed and laughed. Leona was sure that she had never seen anything more wonderful and fascinating in her life.
Sitting next to Lord Strathkarn, she thought that he was the real head of the clan, and also reminisced about the times when the heads of clans reigned supreme in their narrow mountain valleys.
“The leader protected his clan, and they followed him everywhere and obeyed his orders unquestioningly,” her mother said.
But then Mrs. Grenville sadly added: "Alas, the Scottish Highlanders were forgotten by their leaders, and without them they were lost!"
They couldn't imagine life without a leader.
Leona knew that even in the 16th and 17th centuries, the head of the clan was a man whose experience and wisdom far surpassed that of most Englishmen.
“The chief could speak English and Gaelic,” Mrs. Grenville said, “and very often he also knew Greek, French, and Latin. He sent his sons to study at the universities of Glasgow, Edinburgh, Paris and Rome! "
She smiled and continued, "He drank French red wines, wore lace collars, and spent his time in the manner of his people."
She became sad again and added: “But now the leaders are not enough to hunt deer, wolf, wild cat or partridge. They came south, leaving their people like sheep without a shepherd. " Looking at Lord Strathkarn, who watched the dance with interest, Leona thought that he was such a leader who was not indifferent to the fate of his people.
How she wanted her mother to be there now, so that she would know that Leone loved Scottish dances as much as she once did, that she liked to sit in this huge hall and listen to the sounds of bagpipes!
When the clan members finished dancing, Lord Stratkarn introduced many of them to Leone.
She noticed that he certainly mentioned that the blood of MacDonald's flows in her veins and that this was her first visit to Scotland, but he never said that she was a guest of the Duke of Ardnes.
She had a feeling that the relationship between the Duke and Lord Stratcarn was somewhat strained, and Leona tried to remember if there had ever been an internecine struggle between the McCarns and Macardnes.
What a pity that now she can no longer remember much of what her mother told her in her stories about Scotland, in the exciting legends of military campaigns and superstitions that were a part of her life, a part of herself.
Finally, after thanking the dancers, Lord Stratkarn ushered Leona into the living room on the first floor.
Thank you, ”she said. - My gratitude is difficult to express in words.
Did you like it? - he asked.
It’s so exciting, ”she replied.“ Mom was right when she said that no one can be easier on their feet than a Scot dancing reel!
Lord Stratkarn went to the drinks table in the corner of the living room and poured Leone some lemonade.
When he handed her a glass, they went to the fireplace and stopped in front of the fire. In the mysterious light of the flame, Leona's hair gleamed gold, and her head seemed to be surrounded by a halo.
They stood and listened to the wind howling outside the castle walls, the rain knocking on the windows.
I bless the wind that has brought you here today, ”said Lord Stratkarn in a low voice. “This is something that I never expected.
It's all like magic to me, ”Leona said. As she spoke, she raised her eyes again to the lord, and again his gaze mesmerized her.
You are very beautiful! he said quietly.
Embarrassed, she turned away and stared at the flames in the fireplace.
They stood in silence. Then, remembering how impressive he looked as the leader of the clan, Leona asked:
You stay here all year round?
This is my home, my life, ”he replied. - I live here! To her surprise, at these words his voice changed greatly.
There was something unexpectedly harsh, even harsh, in the way he answered, and when she looked up in surprise, Lord Stratkarn said:
I think you are very tired, Miss Grenville. This day was very difficult for you. You probably already want to relax.
His tone and demeanor made Leona feel like he had shut himself off from her and was no longer as close and reliable as he had seemed since the accident on the road.
She so wanted to say that she had not the slightest desire to go to bed, that she wanted to stay here and talk to him!
She wanted so much to know, she needed to hear so much! But she thought that it would probably be indecent on her part to offer such a thing. Perhaps he was simply bored with her company.
Suddenly she felt like a young and inexperienced girl.
Probably, Leona thought timidly, she should have said that she wanted to go to bed as soon as they left the chief's room.
Instead, she allowed him to demonstrate that he was willing to get rid of her company and put her in a rather humiliating position.
May I thank you again for your kindness? she asked.
She raised a pleading look at him, but he was looking in a completely different direction. Lord Stratkarn walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the corridor.
Mrs. McCrae is expecting you, ”he said. - Goodnight, Miss Grenville.
Good night, my lord.
Leona curtseyed and walked down the corridor alone. She heard the lord return to the living room again.
“What did I say wrong? Why has he changed so much? " she asked herself as she lay in bed. Strange shadows spread across the room from the blazing fireplace.
I don’t understand anything, ”Leona said quietly, completely upset. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she finally fell asleep.
It's morning, miss, and the wind has stopped, ”Mrs. McCrae announced as she entered the room.
She drew back the curtains, and then Leona heard the sound of bagpipes at the other end of the house.
The sun illuminated the room, pouring its golden light over it. All her nightly fears and worries seemed to melt away without a trace, and she wanted to get up and perhaps have breakfast with Lord Strathkarn.
But Mrs McCrae imagined it very differently.
I ordered your breakfast to be brought here, miss, considering how difficult you had yesterday.
Today I feel great! - answered Leona.
She looked in the direction of the heavy tray that the maid brought into the room to place on the bed next to her, and dared to ask:
Wouldn't his ... lordship expect ... that I go down to have breakfast with him?
His lordship had breakfast an hour ago, Mrs. McCrae replied. “He usually gets up very early, but today the lord suggested that when you’re dressed, you might want to look around the gardens before leaving.”
Yes, of course, I would really like that! - agreed Leona.
She ate a quick breakfast, and after Mrs. McCrae helped her dress, the maid was ordered to pack her trunk.
Deep down, Leona hoped that the wind would be as strong today as it was yesterday and she would not be able to continue on her way, or that the duke's carriage would still not be repaired.
After saying goodbye to Mrs. McCrae and leaving the room, she saw in the corridor two footmen, who were waiting for the chest to be ready to carry it down to the carriage, which, Leona guessed, was already at the gate of the castle.
She had a strange feeling that she was being forced to do something that she did not want at all, and she noted to herself that she would gladly stay in Lord Strathkarn's castle some more. She did not want to go to the Duke of Ardnes at all.
"This seems ridiculous to me," she mused as she passed the living room, "but I feel as if I am leaving something very valuable here."
However, all her observations of her own feelings were forgotten, as soon as she saw Lord Strathkarn sitting at his desk.
When she entered, he got up to meet her, and Leona had to suppress the urge to rush to him and tell how glad she was to see him.
Instead, she curtsied.
Good morning, Miss Grenville, ”he said without a smile.
Good morning, my lord.
Did you sleep well?
Very good, thank you.
As you can see, the wind died down during the night, and today will be a warm, sunny day.
Mrs McCrae said you would show me the gardens.
If it pleases you "
I would love to see them!
I think you will find them beautiful enough, ”he said. - They were laid under my mother, and since then I have always tried to fulfill all her desires.
They went down the stairs, and when they came out to the gardens through the side door of the castle, Leona knew that Lord Strathkarn's pride was justified.
They went from the castle to the lake and were protected by bushes on both sides. Around grew such plants and flowers that are almost impossible to grow in the climate of Scotland.
The sun was very warm that day, and the hills surrounded the lake in a patronizing manner.
Now, as Leona looked at the silver lake surface, she could see small farms huddling around in the shadow of the hills, and herds of shaggy Scottish cows with huge horns grazing in small green areas.
Do you have a lot of land? Leona asked.
Not as much as I would like, ”replied Lord Stratkarn,“ but I have many acres of land east towards the sea and south towards Invernessshire.
Leona thought his gaze darkened.
My domain ends at the top of the hill. Further, the possessions of the Duke of Ardnes begin.
So close? Leona exclaimed. - And how far is his castle?
On the way, ”replied Lord Stratkarn,“ you’ll have to travel ten miles, but if straight ahead, then not more than three miles from here.
How wonderful! Leona exclaimed.
There are many gorges, crevasses and mountain rivers to cross, and these rivers, when they overflow, can easily wash away the road, despite the fact that it is built much higher.
Now I understand, ”Leona nodded. Talking leisurely, they descended to the lake. Suddenly
Leona stopped and turned to look at the castle behind.
God, how beautiful he is! she exclaimed delighted. - Just fabulous palace! I couldn't even imagine that he was so handsome!
The castle really was like a fairy tale. The walls, built of gray stone, rose high up and were crowned with stepped turrets.
Just like the dancers she saw last night, Leona thought the castle looked very light, which is hard to expect from such a huge building.
I think I understand why he means so much to you, ”she said to Lord Strathkarn.
I already told you yesterday, ”he replied,“ this is my home and here I must live if I want to take care of my people and protect my clan.
Leona was about to express her joy at this, but Lord Stratkarn changed the subject.
I think, Miss Grenville, "he said," that his lordship is expecting you. The crew is at the door, it's time for you to go.
Yes ... of course, Leona agreed.
She was upset again: it seemed to her that she should be the first to talk about her departure, and not wait until she was reminded.
At the same time, she did not want to leave the sunny garden at all.
She turned leisurely to take another look at the lake.
I hope that now that I am in Scotland, I will have a chance to see how salmon is caught, ”she said. - My father, who was very fond of fishing, often told me what a thrilling sight it was!
People are often disappointed, ”replied Lord Stratkarn. - Yes, and in life we often have to be disappointed.
He moved towards the castle. Leona could think of nothing more to delay her departure, and followed Lord Strathkarn, losing all hope.
She looked at the heather fields in the distance.
How do you recognize the boundaries of your domain? the girl asked. - Maybe they are somehow marked?
I think my people have learned so much about every inch of my domain that they can tell me how much of the heather belongs to the Duke of Ardnes and how much belongs to me, ”said Lord Stratkarn. - However, at the top of the hill there is a large cairn of stones, which was built centuries ago - from it I know that I have reached the border of my domain.
They were approaching the castle, and as they left the garden along the path, Leona saw a horse-drawn carriage waiting for her at the entrance.
It was… so nice of you… to let me sleep here, ”she said. “I hope we… meet again someday.
I guess this is unlikely.
Leona stopped to look at Lord Strathkarn. Her eyes widened in surprise.
But why? she asked.
His lordship and I disagree on some issues, ”replied Lord Stratkarn.
I ... I tried ... to remember ... if I had heard anything about ... civil strife between your clans, ”Leona said after some hesitation.
We have fought in the past, ”replied Lord Stratkarn,“ but my father and the duke have declared a truce.
Which is now broken?
Which is now broken!
Lord Stratkarn said nothing more. He took a step forward, as if he wanted to quickly lead her to the carriage.
So ... I will never see you again? she asked in a low voice.
I cannot appear at the castle of the Duke of Ardnes, ”he replied. “But let me repeat: you are always welcome here and, as I said yesterday, I am always at your service.
Then ... may I ... visit you? she asked doubtfully.
Hopefully you will.
Lord Stratkarn turned to look at the heather fields behind him.
Before stone pyramid not far away, it is worth getting to her, and you are in my possession.
I… will remember that, ”Leona said, breathing deeply.
He looked into her eyes, and Leona thought he was going to say something very important. He almost opened his mouth, but then they were interrupted.
A servant was walking towards them.
I beg your pardon, my lord, but the Duke's coachman says the horses are restless.
Thank you, Duncan, said Lord Stratkarn. “Miss Grenville is ready to go.
They entered the hall of the castle, where her traveling cloak was waiting for Leona. She put it on and noticed that all of her other belongings were already in the carriage.
Leona held out her hand.
I am sincerely grateful to your lordship for your help and hospitality.
He took her hand in his, but did not kiss, as Leona hoped, but bowed. Leona curtseyed and went to the carriage.
The coachman was very impatient. As soon as Leona settled into the seat, he whipped the horses, and the carriage started.
She leaned forward, but only out of the corner of her eye saw Lord Strathkarn standing on the steps of the castle, looking after her. The horses moved to amble. Ahead lay a road through heather fields.
When they reached the spot on the road where the carriage had overturned the previous night, Leona looked back at the castle, which stood on the banks of a beautiful lake.
She rolled down the carriage window so she could see better, and now, as the sun shone on her surroundings, she thought again that she had never seen a more beautiful place.
The lilac heather fields, the lights on the water, the small farms around the lake under the shelter of the hills, seemed even more beautiful than before.
And the castle itself looked like the perfect embodiment of all the mystery and romance of the highlands of Scotland.
What splendor! Leona said to herself with a slight sigh.
Then the castle disappeared from sight.
As they drove, she wondered why Lord Stratkarn had quarreled with the Duke so badly that they did not even meet.
Leona couldn't forget the look on his face when she told him she was going to stay at Ardness Castle.
Why did it seem so strange to him?
Then she convinced herself that Scots are very hot-tempered by nature and never forgive grudges.
It is enough just to remember the stories of the mother about the Campbells to understand how deeply they are able to feel.
Perhaps I can somehow reconcile them with each other, Leona thought.
She knew she wanted it so that she could see Lord Strathkarn. The sooner the better.
The road they were driving was narrow and rocky. But the horses were galloping rather briskly, and, according to Leona's calculations, they had already traveled four or five miles, when the carriage suddenly stopped and loud voices were heard.
She looked out of the window and to her surprise she saw several people gathered around a small farm.
There was an eerie noise, and she watched in amazement as two men dragged bed and tableware, a spinning wheel and clothes from the house, while two women and several children yelled at them.
People from other farms were running along the road, and the horses could not go further. Now Leona watched in horror as the two, who had taken out all the furniture from the house, set the roof on fire!
It was difficult to understand what was going on here. One woman with a baby in her arms shouted in Gaelic:
Tha then clan air a bhi air am type! Then angry screams followed.
"They are killing my children!" - translated Leona and saw that in addition to the two people setting fire to the house, there were three more policemen.
She left the carriage.
The noise and screams were terrible, but she saw that the women were trying to save at least the chickens, which were locked in the chicken coop and could be roasted alive.
As soon as the farm was on fire, a man rushed into the blazing house and jumped out, carrying a half-naked, crying child in his arms.
What's happening? What's going on here? Leona asked.
What's happening? Leona asked.
These people are being evicted, madam.
Is it being evicted? - Leona exclaimed and immediately added: - Do you mean that the land is being cleaned up here?
His lordship needs land, madam.
For sheep? Leona asked.
And, yes, it is. And now, madam, if you get into the carriage, you will be able to go on.
The man she was talking to turned away, and Leona saw the coachman holding the carriage door open and waiting for her to take her place to continue on her way.
Help! Please, help! the woman shouted to her. For a moment she hesitated, about to answer, but then the policeman hit the woman with a truncheon, and she fell to the ground.
Leona wanted to go to her, but as soon as she took a few steps, the person with whom she was talking was again next to her.
Please, madam, leave at last! - he threw out rather abruptly. “You’re not going to help her, and his lordship will not like it if you linger here.”
Leona wanted to intervene and protest against this treatment of women and children, but somehow she was back in the carriage, the door was slammed, and the horses were already galloping at full speed along the cleared road.
She looked out of the window and saw a burning farm.
Then she saw that other people who had watched the first eviction, realizing that the same could happen to them, began to take furniture out of their homes themselves.
Leona leaned back in the seat, she was on the verge of fainting with horror.
She has heard talk of forced evictions in order to clear land since she can remember, while always talking about the terrible methods that were used.
Her mother, usually gentle and calm, was seized with an irresistible anger when she talked about it, and often she cried bitterly in despair.
But Leone always thought it was that way a long time ago. She could not even imagine that such unbearable cruelty still exists somewhere.
Her mother often told her how, in 1762, Sir John Lockhart Ross made it compulsory to raise sheep in the north and by accident destroyed the very essence, the spirit of the highlands.
Five hundred of his cheviot sheep survived in the harsh climate of Scotland, despite the fact that everyone predicted their doom.
But the sheep grew well, and since wool is a fairly valuable commodity, landlords saw another source of income in raising sheep.
Many Scottish landlords at that time were on the verge of bankruptcy, and now they saw in their badlands and narrow mountain valleys a wonderful pasture for sheep.
But, naturally, the first necessity was the cleansing of the land from the people who inhabited them.
For centuries, the mountaineers endured harsh winters, took care of their farms, raised cattle.
They could not believe that now they would have to leave their homes and leave the land that they considered their own.
They turned to the leaders of their clans for help - and did not receive it.
Many did not understand why they needed to move closer to the sea coast and hardly make ends meet or go overseas to an unknown world, where complete uncertainty awaits them.
Their farms were set on fire right over their heads, and they themselves were treated like criminals.
From early childhood, Leona heard stories of human suffering, first in Sutherland and then in Ross and Cromarty.
For her mother, this was a betrayal of everything she believed in, everything that was part of her legacy.
But Mrs. Grenville was far from her homeland, and it was quite difficult for her to imagine a real picture of what was happening there, it was difficult to understand how there was no one who could protect the highlanders.
All this happened long before Leona was born, and it was only five years ago, in 1845, that a fierce controversy broke out in the Times about the forced relocation of people in Scotland.
Editor John Delaney learned that ninety peasants at Ross and Cromarty had been evicted from Glencallwe and had to settle in the churchyard as they lost their roof over their heads.
The Times had previously ignored the forced evictions of people in Scotland, but now John Delaney himself went there and witnessed the abuse of people from Glenkalvey.
When Mrs. Grenville read aloud his reports of what she had seen, tears rolled down her cheeks like a hail.
Mr. Delaney found out that all the cottages in the mountain valley were empty, except for one where a decrepit old man was dying.
The rest of the people were sitting on the hillside: the women were neatly dressed, in red or ordinary headscarves, the men in their checkered shepherd's rugs.
The weather was damp and cold, and the people were driven out of the valley. They had only three carts on which they sat their children. John Delaney wrote that everything that happened in Scotland was the result of "a cold, heartless calculation that is as disgusting as it is inconceivable."
Why didn't anyone stop them, Mom? - Leona asked her mother.
These people told the editor of The Times that they had never seen their landlord and that his confidants were acting on his behalf, they were the ones who did all these atrocities.
All this was very difficult for Leone then to understand, but now, hearing the children's crying and seeing the despair and hopelessness on the faces of people watching their houses burned down, she felt nauseous and dizzy with disgust and anger.
And she knew who was responsible for it.
It was useless to try to close our eyes to the fact that they were traveling on the Duke's land, and the unfortunates who were now being deprived of their homes were his people.
They, like others forcibly expelled, will have to huddle together and go to the sea coast.
The only way out is to board a ship and sail far across the ocean. But on this ship, people often die from the cold, lack of food, or become victims of epidemics of smallpox or typhus.
"It can not be true! It can't be that it all starts all over again! " - thought Leona.
She recalled how her mother cursed the sheep, which drove the highlanders out of their valleys and from the heather fields, where only the ghosts of those whose courage and endurance had once served as the true pride of Scotland remained.
"How can a duke do this to his people?" - Leona was indignant.
She now understood perfectly well why Lord Stratkarn was on bad terms with the Duke.
She saw on the land of the lord of the farm where the cattle were raised. They were located along the shore of the lake.
There were no flocks of sheep on the land he owned, and her heart softened as she now understood why his people needed him so much and why he needed to stay among them if he had to defend the interests of his people.
Then, very nervous, she thought about what she should say to the duke when she met and how to keep from the words of curse that might escape her lips as soon as she saw him.
“Maybe he doesn't know? Maybe he does not understand what kind of suffering these people have to endure? " she said to herself.
But the eviction was only a few miles from the castle.
Could he be that blind?
And if he was in his possession, unlike many northern landlords who lived in England, while their proxies committed such terrible crimes on their behalf, then, naturally, he could not be unaware of what was happening.
The horses were running forward along the road among the heather fields, and Leona wanted to jump out of the carriage and run back to the castle of Lord Strathkarn,
How she wished she had the courage to do it! But the carriage rolled inexorably forward, and nothing could be done about it.
Leona was scared to the core and for the first time regretted that she had not refused the Duke's invitation and had come to Scotland.
"How can I ... explain to him how I ... feel?" she asked herself.
She often quoted Eileen Dall, the blind bard of Glengarry, who wrote about the suffering of the common people of Scotland.
Eileen Dall chose very strong, meaningful words, her mother explained to her. - He compared the sins of the landlords with the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah. She took a deep breath.
Even the MacDonald's, her ancestors, as Leona later learned, were not without sin.
Her father once mentioned that of all the Scottish landlords, no one got rid of their people as easily as the MacDonald of Glengarry or Chisholma of Stranglass. Her mother then did not argue, she just cried, and sometimes Leone thought that the eviction of people worried her much more than the Battle of Glencoe.
Now, having seen everything with her own eyes, she understood why her mother was so horrified and cried.
"It is not right! It's not fair!" - Leona raged.
With each mile that brought her closer to Ardness Castle, she felt anger increase, but at the same time, a vague anxiety began to seize her.
The path, filled with experiences, began to seem to her endless. At last the carriage began to descend from the high road along which they were traveling, since they had left Lord Strathkarn's castle.
The road led down into a mountain valley, at first it meandered through dark firs, and then through heather-covered fields.
There were no farms on the way, but from time to time Leona noticed stone walls without roofs. She was sure that not so many years had passed since these houses were inhabited.
A fast river ran through the mountain valley.
For some time they drove along the road along the river, and the mountains on both sides rose up so sharply and were so high that everything seemed to be covered by the shadow that fell from them.
But nevertheless, they had their own grandeur and beauty.
There was no soft charm of the surroundings of the castle of Lord Stratkarn, here nature was more severe and expressive, but at that moment everything seemed to Leone portending danger.
Only when she drove up to the castle of Ardness, she realized how close she was to the sea.
Far away, at the very end mountain valley, she saw the white crests of the sea waves, and Ardness Castle towered high above the mouth of the river.
He made a much stronger impression. This castle was terrifying. This was not what Leon expected.
The castle was probably built as a defense against enemy clans and Vikings. It was an impenetrable fortress of enormous size.
A river flowed under the fortress, behind the raging sea, and the gray stone from which it was built stood out sharply against the background of the hills. An eerie sight.
They had passed the bridge and were now driving along the road between low, twisted trees and dense bushes.
The tower, which is closer to the sea, was obviously built earlier, and instead of windows there were narrow slits of loopholes. The rest of the fortress was gray stone with a flyover roof, Gothic windows and sixteenth-century gun turrets.
The crew drove up to the castle. The huge door was like a formidable bastion of wood with iron hinges. Stone hinged loopholes were high above, so that you could pour molten lead on the intruder.
Many servants were bustling around, all dressed in kilts, and because Leona was nervous, they seemed to her like huge bearded men of a frightening appearance.
One of them led her into a huge square hall, and then up a wide stone staircase, on which footsteps sounded loud and resounding.
Upstairs, a servant flung open the door for her and announced in a loud voice:
Miss Grenville, Your Grace!
The room turned out to be much larger than Leona had anticipated. The ceiling was high and vaulted, and the windows let in very little light.
The Duke stood at the far end of the room in front of a carved fireplace. When she approached him, she felt like she was shrinking in size, while he remained huge and powerful.
Such were her first impressions, somewhat exaggerated by the excitement. However, the duke was indeed tall, gray-haired and looked extremely domineering.
He held his head high, but Leona saw that this man was very old and his face was covered with deep wrinkles.
Now she knew perfectly well what her mother meant when she described his appearance as intimidating.
The hand he held out to her was so much larger than her own that Leona felt as if the palm had fallen into a trap from which she could not escape.
You've finally arrived! the duke exclaimed. His voice was resonant, and although he was smiling, the girl did not leave the feeling that his tone contained a reproach.
Leona curtsied. When she rose, the duke was still holding her hand, and his gaze was penetrating and studying. Leona was somewhat confused by this.
I hope you have already been informed, Your Grace, that the carriage capsized last night.
Which means you had to stay overnight at Stratcarn Castle. An extremely unfortunate fact! My people should have taken better care of you.
It's not their fault at all, ”Leona said. - The wind was very strong, the rain blinded their eyes. I think the wheels just jumped off the road.
They will be punished! - the duke snapped sharply. - But you! Finally you have arrived!
I'm here, Your Grace, ”Leona nodded,“ but on the way here I saw a terrible scene.
What was it?
His question sounded like a pistol shot.
Eviction ... Your Grace ...
The Duke did not answer, and Leona continued:
It was the most ... humiliating and most ... heartbreaking scene I have ever ... seen in my life.
She was going to speak harshly about it, but her voice sounded weak and worried.
Mom often talked about forced evictions, ”she continued,“ but I didn’t… believe that such things are still happening. At least not here!
There is only one mountain valley left, in which there are stubborn blockheads who do not want to do what they are told, - replied the duke.
But their farms ... they were set on fire!
You had no right to stop! the duke exclaimed.
That's not the point, ”Leona shook her head. - It happened before my eyes ... and ... one child ... he almost burned to death!
The Duke made a restless movement, and the girl realized that he was furious.
I think you will want to wash up after the road before you taste the food prepared especially for you, ”he said coldly. - You will be escorted to your bedroom.
His hand dropped to the bell, and although Leona was going to tell him a lot more, the words somehow got stuck in her throat.
The girl realized that he was brushing her off like an annoying fly, and everything she said made absolutely no impression on him.
Never before had she felt so powerless and helpless.
Besides her, there were two other maids. They all sat down in a curtsy.
I'm Mrs. McKenzie, - said the housekeeper, - this is Maggie, and this is Janet. We're here, miss, to serve you.
Thank you, - said Leona. 48
His lordship ordered us to fulfill all your requests and wishes. Everything you need, miss, will be brought to you right there.
Thank you, ”Leona repeated.
She wondered what would happen if she asked the evicted people to be sent food and clothing.
That was what she wanted most, but she knew she would never have the courage to even mention it.
No wonder Lord Stratkarn had quarreled with the Duke, she thought.
How much she longed to return to Lord Strathkarn's castle again ...
Or maybe she wanted to see more ... his master?
