The girl paused to catch her breath. Her agitation made it difficult to deliver her message

At Lady Catherine Gray’s house, Jean Forbes pulled the door open. “What?” she began as Ewan pushed past her. He reached the first level where Mclaurin was waiting. “Follow me,” she ordered, leading him to a room on the floor above. Ewan lowered Ellie on to the bed. The girl was still unconscious, blood seeping from a wound.

Gently, Mclaurin patted her hair. “There, lassie,” she crooned, “you’re made of strong stuff.”

She glanced round, noting Ewan’s bewilderment at her tenderness. “If you only knew,” she said sadly, “if you only knew.”

“You’re sure she’ll recover?” Colonel Crawford asked, his face drawn. “So Doctor Turner assured me, sir,” Ewan replied.

“Thank God! If I ever meet that wretch Guest I’ll string him up!”

“If you’ll forgive me, sir, there is Monday night to consider.” Ewan’s voice was calm. A frown crossed Crawford’s face. “A few days away. Will Ellie be able to make the journey?”

Mission

“We don’t know as yet. Perhaps a short postponement?” “No.” Alastair Crawford shook his head. “The Prince is planning his move into England and, of course, Johnny Cope is huffing and puffing to the east. Come Monday I may not be here, nor –” he said pointedly “– may you or Mccrae.”

“I see, sir.”

“Aye. Your spying days are over for now. It’s back to soldiering for you after we’ve seen our mission through.”

“I’ll not be sorry, Colonel,” Ewan said quietly. “I prefer to be out in the open than skulking in the background.”

Crawford laughed. “Surely it wasn’t that bad? I’m certain there were interesting people to meet. Females such as Miss Chalmers,” he teased.

Ewan reddened. “Aye, she’s a lovely girl. But I’m only a soldier, and she’s none too enamoured over my partnership with Mccrae. Besides,” Ewan gave a gesture of helplessness. “Miss Chalmers is one of those you charged me to protect. With patronage such as yours I would hardly dare allow my thoughts of her to become romantic.”

A faint smile crossed Crawford’s face. “I take your point, but who knows what fate has in store?”

“Captain Marshall had an interest in Miss Chalmers,” Ewan reminded his superior. “So he did, Ewan. I remember smiling when I received your report on that young man. A most unfortunate choice. And then he appeared to be captivated by Miss Mcallan, or was it Alison Porteous?”

“His feelings were difficult to gauge, sir. Apart from his anger, I’m afraid.”

“Captain Marshall has an unfortunate tendency to tread the wrong paths, both in love and war.”

The colonel’s comments intrigued Ewan. However, he knew his commander well and realised he would have to wait until the man deemed the moment right for further revelations. As if reading his thoughts, Crawford drew some papers from his pouch.

“Take these,” he ordered. “They contain orders for your duties at Monday night’s meeting. Read them well, Major, for I want you word perfect.”

“You may rely on me, sir.”

“I know that, Ewan,” the colonel said softly, “but you’ll be wearing a private’s uniform on Tuesday morning if anything goes wrong.”

Grand ball

“There’s one other matter, sir. Lady Catherine is holding a grand masquerade ball on Saturday night. The cream of Edinburgh society will be in attendance, including myself and many we know or care about,” Ewan added knowingly.

Disappointment showed on Crawford’s face. “Just my luck that Lord George Murray is intent on briefing us that evening on the campaign, otherwise you could have sneaked me in, Ewan. Ah, well,” he said philosophically, “perhaps it’s best that you all enjoy yourselves for a few hours. You’ve earned it.”

Ewan saluted, ready to leave, when Crawford raised a cautionary finger. “Guard them well,” he said.

Jean Forbes arrived at the Canongate Mission just as Duncan Mcallan was leaving. He touched the brim of his hat. “Miss Forbes. It’s but a day since you brought the invitation to your mistress’s ball.”

The girl paused to catch her breath. Her agitation made it difficult to deliver her message.“it’s Miss Ellie,” she blurted out. “She’s hurt.” Then, seeing his alarm, she rushed on. “But she’s going to be all right.”

“Gracious, lassie, come in and tell us the full story.” He ushered her to the kitchen area where Kirsty and Alison looked up in surprise. Together the three listened as Jean told them of the cannons.

“Did we not wonder at the noise, Father?” Kirsty cried. Duncan nodded. “Aye, but what of Ellie? We must see to her – bring her here for nursing.”

“No, sir, there’s no need. Lady Catherine will attend to her as the doctor sees fit. My message is simply to assure you that she’s in good hands. And that she hopes to be present at the masquerade,” Jean said as an afterthought.

Kirsty and Alison looked cheered at the prospect. As Jean went to leave she gave cry. “Oh, Miss Alison, I nearly forgot! I was told to inform you that the sergeant, Sandy Mccrae, is safe and will visit you soon.”

“Sandy?” Alison looked at Kirsty. “You hear that? My Sandy’s safe!” The two girls hugged, almost weeping with relief.

Promises

When Jean had gone Kirsty sat listening to Alison’s promises of what she would tell Sandy when he appeared. “I’ll not chase him away with tantrums,” she said. “Indeed, I may lead him to the altar before you get that brother of mine there!”

But even as she spoke her eyes darkened. “What’s the matter?” “I keep forgetting that John and Agnes are not my parents, so Malcolm isn’t my brother.”

Kirsty shot a wary glance at her father, who raised a hand. “I know what Alison’s fears are. I’m ashamed to say I overheard you both discussing this.”

“I see.” Alison showed no surprise. “And as my father’s friend I suppose you knew it all along?”

“Aye, lass, I did. But John and Agnes love you as their own. I was going to tell John that you were aware of this, but...”

“Can you tell me whose child I am?”

“Alas, my dear, I cannot. John never confided in me to that extent. I doubt if even he and Agnes knew.”

“Are you going to challenge your fa – Mr Porteous when you see him next?’ Kirsty asked. She saw the glint of tears in Alison’s eyes.

“No. I intended to. I wanted to shock them. After all, I was barely five years of age when I learned the truth. But something held me back. Fear? Or perhaps I loved them too much!”

Alison dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “If you’ll forgive me, I’d like some time to myself. There is one thing, though.”

She turned to Duncan. “Does Malcolm know? That I’m not his sister?” “No, my dear,” he said knowingly. “John had no need to tell Malcolm.”

More tomorrow.

Glens of Stone was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.30 from newsagents and supermarkets.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon