Page 42 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
Castle Kintochlochie didn’t yet have a telephone, but perhaps she should have asked Tilly to arrange a telegram. At least, then, she wouldn’t be arriving wholly unannounced. Turning up on someone’s doorstep did seem rather an imposition—and so close to Christmas. She’d acted without thinking it through and, now, here she was, hurtling towards a problem—not to mention the sort of weather that gave one chilblains. If Daphne’s family permitted her through the door, what might be in store? Never ending haggis, probably, and men shooting things. She might not be able to go for a walk for fear of being mistaken for some poor creature destined to have its head wall-mounted.
But what could she do? Soon, the train would reach Fort William, and she had nowhere else to go.
Perhaps she should confide in Miss Abernathy and ask her advice. Ancient as she was, she must have seen a great deal of life, and she’d made her way without coming to harm.
She was still asleep however—her head lolling with the motion of the train.
Where was it she was alighting—Gorton?
The train had been passing through open heathland cloaked low in mist. Ursula struggled to recall the map. Rannoch Moor was just south of Glen Coe, wasn’t it, and there were several private stations before you reached Fort William.
“Miss Abernathy.” Ursula leaned forward. “Time to wake up.” She touched her arm. “We’re nearly there. You’ll need to gather your things.”
She noticed then that Miss Abernathy was no longer snoring. In fact, the older woman was altogether quiet.
Moving to the other side of the table, Ursula placed her hand over her companion’s.
Quite cold.
“Urania!” Ursula gave Miss Abernathy a gentle shake, then squeaked with shock as the old lady pitched forward.
Pushing her back in the seat, Ursula propped her into the corner.
Miss Abernathy wasn’t just asleep.
And she wouldn’t be getting off at Gorton.
From the front of the train came the blow of a whistle. They were slowing, the brakes jarring on the track.
Was this the place?
A strange horror washed over Ursula.
The train would stop and Miss Abernathy wouldn’t get out. They’d come looking for her and find her, dead.
Natural causes of course, but the guard would need to speak to Ursula. He’d ask her questions, and wouldn’t the police need to do that too, once they reached Fort William? They’d want Ursula to tell them about Miss Abernathy. They might ask Ursula for her place of residence. They might contact Uncle Cedric.
Ursula stood up.
At the other end of the dining car, the clergymen remained deeply in conversation.
The waiter was still nowhere to be seen.
Without further thought, Ursula picked up Miss Abernathy’s voluminous handbag.
I’m sorry, but I have to.
Darting back to her compartment, Ursula threw her own few possessions into her luggage. She donned her coat and pushed her hat down low on her head, reaching the outer door as the train made its final, juddering halt.
Fingers trembling, she pushed down heavily on the handle and stepped out into the grey swirl of mist. Some way ahead, a shadowy figure looked out from beside the engine and waved. After a moment’s hesitation, Ursula waved back, and the whistle blew again.
She stood on the tiny platform, watching the train pulling away, gathering speed, then disappearing. Towards Fort William. Towards Daphne and Kintochlochie.
Away from Ursula.
What had she done?
Chapter Five
