There was little to say. Each had personal thoughts, memories and hopes

Ablustery windswept the kirkyard but the waiting crowds ignored it. Led by a black-beribboned horse and carriage, the cortège made its way to the gates. Six men of the Scots Royal, led by Sandy Mccrae, took the coffin on their shoulders and, to a mournful drumbeat, slow marched round the side of the ancient kirk to the prepared grave.

Ewan, resplendent in uniform, stood waiting, and as the coffin was lowered to the ground, he raised and dipped his sword in salute.

Robert watched, finding it difficult to gauge his feelings. At first, the knowledge that his true father was a man who stood politically for everything he feared and hated had unsettled him.

But with time had come understanding. Robert’s personal loyalty to the Hanoverian cause had wavered, especially since the incident when Guest had opened fire on innocent civilians, his own sister among them. Thank God she had been saved!

And thank God, too, for Kirsty and Alison. He was lucky to have them for kin. A whole new life loomed before him.

Assurance

Kirsty held Duncan Mcallan’s arm tightly, eager to assure him that she would always love him as a father. They had talked well into the small hours, he begging forgiveness, she giving him every assurance that he’d given her a happy life.

She felt her free hand being squeezed and turned to smile at Malcolm, whose eyes shone with his love for her. It would not be long before he took her as his wife. And who knew, she thought, stealing a glance at Alison, there might even be a double wedding!

Alison was dry-eyed. She wanted to feel sadness for the man who was her father, but tears would not come. Perhaps later. She sensed John and Agnes Porteous looking at her and smiled at them. They had raised her, guided her and loved her as their own. For that she would ever be grateful.

Her eyes caught Sandy’s as he stood by Ewan Ogilvie’s side. This was the man she would marry one day soon, she knew, and the thought gave her comfort.

Lady Catherine stood red-eyed, one arm around Mclaurin’s shoulders. The old woman’s face was strained with grief and her fingers trembled in their grip on her cane.

Ellie prayed silently that God would keep Ewan safe in the battles to come. She felt sorry for him, knowing it would be a long while before he forgave himself for the colonel’s death.

She shook her head; she kept referring to Alastair Crawford as “the colonel”. How long would it be before she could accept that he had been her father?

Yet in him she recognised from where her spirit and impishness had come. She felt sorry for him; for the hate and jealousy that had devastated his marriage to her mother.

She was glad she’d met him and gladder still that she had two sisters and a brother. Even if it was a brother who had shut her in the vaults for her insolence!

The funeral service over, the coffin was laid in the earth, the soldiers firing a round in salute. Then Robert stepped to the graveside and bowed his head, allowing a trickle of earth to slide from his hand on to the coffin lid.

In turn Kirsty, Alison and Ellie stepped forward, dropping posies of flowers into the grave. They stood for a moment’s prayer, then, escorted by the menfolk, made for the waiting carriages.

The procession rode through the village and followed the road to Edinburgh. There was little to say, and little they wished to say. Each had personal thoughts, memories and hopes.

Ahead lay the imposing outline of the castle from which the mile-long street tailed down to Holyrood – a street bordered by high tenements which Kirsty had once thought gave the impression of walking through great glens.

On the hillside above, an eagle took to the air and wheeled slowly over them as if in salute before flying off towards the watery, sinking sun.

Glencorrie, 1751

The women laughed as their husbands played with the children, though each would admit to being fearful that the boisterous rough and tumble would lead to tears.

“Men! They’re so rough,” Ellie said, shaking her head as Ewan pulled little Roddy down into the long grass, whooping with laughter.

It was good to see Ewan happy, she thought. He’d lost all spirit after the calamity of Culloden those five years ago. Still, at least he had come back to her unscathed. Poor Sandy had taken a sabre cut in the leg, leaving him with a permanent limp.

Not that you’d know it to see him at that moment, valiantly avoiding the fists of his dear little Emma, the pride and joy of him and Alison.

Shielding her eyes, she saw Robert cantering towards them, by his side the beautiful Anne Cameron, daughter of their neighbour, Sir Kenneth Cameron.

After Alastair Crawford’s funeral Robert had returned to Edinburgh Castle. When the rebellion ended after Culloden he had resigned his commission and taken up residence in Glencorrie where, because of his military background, his sisters and their loved ones could also live without harassment from the triumphant Redcoats.

It had taken Robert a long time to settle but the Glencorrie estate had given him an interest. He’d proved to be a good manager and now Glencorrie thrived, fast becoming one of the richest estates in the shire. However, it was Anne who had given Robert what he most needed – love – and come August they would be wed.

Modestly

Hopefully they would see Kirsty and Malcolm – and the twins – before that. Unlike Ellie and Alison, who’d elected to move to Glencorrie after their marriages, Kirsty had stayed in Edinburgh, where she and Malcolm still helped Duncan Mcallan with the Mission House.

While content to live modestly, Kirsty’s last letter had mentioned new homes to be built in the fields to the north of the city and told of her hopes that she and Malcolm might get a new house there.

John and Agnes Porteous had been content to remain in Edinburgh, too. John still loved his bookshop and intended opening others.

Ellie did not miss Edinburgh, though she’d been back twice – the first time to Miss Mclaurin’s funeral, and then to Lady Catherine’s wedding to a prosperous Edinburgh merchant.

No, like Robert and Alison, Ellie loved Glencorrie with its turreted baronial house and many rooms. One day, though, Ellie knew Ewan would ask her to leave so that they could make a home of their own, and she would go with him willingly.

She rose to greet Robert and Anne, aware only of the warmth of the sun and the joy and laughter of those around her – her family.

The End

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.

Our new serial, On Renfrew Street, by Katharine Swarz, begins tomorrow.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon