“Ah don’t know, but, ah have me guesses.”
“I likened it to the trauma some of our soldiers had when the war ended. Some, to this day, can barely sleep for the war going on in their heads a year after the last battle at Waterloo, or they can’t stand loud noise; they startle easily or can’t relate to others as just some of the results of the war. How do you believe it developed for Mr. Montgomery?”
“Ah hesitate ta conjecture completely. Here are the facts ah know. Then we can discuss conjecture. In 1780, Mr. Montgomery was sent ta India with his regiment, the 73rdFoot. He were a major. They’d been sent ta India ta fight in the Mysore wars. His wife and Malcolm stayed behind at Clandora, their home.
“In 1781 there were a nasty fire that destroyed their estate. Malcolm and his mother went ta live with Mr. Boyd Ratcliffe while their house was rebuilt, and while waitin’ for Major Montgomery ta return hoome. It would be nearly three more years afore Major Montgomery returned ta Scotland and sold his commission. I believe whatever happened ta Malcolm happened while he and his mother lived with Boyd Ratcliffe.”
“Mr. Ratcliffe was not married at this time?”
“Nay. And if ah be followin’ yer thinkin’, you think Mrs. Montgomery and Mr. Ratcliffe became lovers.”
“That did cross my mind.”
Mr. Ramsay took a deep breath. “It were rumored in Scotland that they were.”
James nodded, his lips compressed in a tight line.
“Aye. Effter Mr. Montgomery returned, those rumors are what drove Mr. Ratcliffe ta come south ta England.”
“What did Mr. Montgomery think of the rumors?”
“He dinnae believe them. Said he knew his nephew too well. They were close in age, you know.”
“I’d heard that.”
“And his wife projected a great affront ta the suggestion. Mr. Montgomery loved her too much to disbelieve her. But it does make one wonder when after his death she quickly marries Ratcliffe, who fortuitously is a widower himself at that time.”
“You are a man for innuendo.”
Mr. Ramsay shrugged. “These things happened. Malcolm didn’t like ta be around Ratcliffe.”
“Did he never tell his father about his mother and Ratcliffe?”
“Malcolm claimed he didn’t remember much of his time livin’ with Mr. Ratcliffe. He were too afraid ta remember, I’m thinkin’.”
“Odd. Mrs. Montgomery told us they couldn’t get hm to go away to school.”
“That were after Mr. Montgomery returned. Mr. Ratcliffe never said anythin’ about schoolin’ for Malcolm when Malcolm lived wit ‘im. —No. Mr. Montgomery wanted him to go to school and tried every punishment he could think of ta get Malcolm ta do as he said. With regards ta going away from home, or his uncle visitin’, nothing his father said or did had an impact on Malcolm. He was a fair man so eventually he gave up, but he dinnae like havin’ his will thwarted!”
CHAPTER 18
MIDNIGHT MISADVENTURES
Cecilia carefully opened the door to her room. She hadn’t noted earlier if they creaked or not when she opened the heavy oak door; she was pleased to discover it opened quietly.Compliments to the staff for keeping doors in good working order, she thought as she stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. The hall was full of heavy shadows with little light extending from the small, oil night lamps hung on the wall. Two figures separated themselves from the wall across from her room—Julia and Mrs. Vance.
Mrs. Vance swished when she walked. Cecilia frowned.
“Mrs. Vance is that your dress or your petticoat making that sound?” she whispered.
Mrs. Vance pressed her fingertips against her cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so used to it. It is the petticoats.”
Cecilia shook her head. “You can’t come making that sound,” she hissed.
Mrs. Vance nodded quickly. Cecilia thought she would go back to her room. Instead, Mrs. Vance reached under her skirts to release the ties of the offending garment. It pooled around her feet on the floor. She quickly stepped out of it, gathered it up, looked around, then opened an ornately carved and painteddoor of a sideboard in the hall and shoved the petticoat inside. She swung her hips side to side to demonstrate she no longer made a sound. Cecilia compressed her lips against a laugh.
Cecilia turned toward the main staircase to go downstairs. Julia caught her arm and pointed to the back end of the hallway.
“Servants’ stairs,” her voice only a breath of air.
