The Winter Sea

The feeling that was pricking at my shoulder blades was not unlike the feeling that I got when I sensed something sneaking up on me. And so it didn’t come as a complete surprise when Dr Weir said, ‘Ogilvie, his name was. Captain Ogilvie.’ He reached inside his pocket and produced some folded notepaper. ‘I copied out the letters…well, they’re excerpts, really. Not much there. But still, I thought the name might be of use.’

I thanked him. Took the papers, and unfolded them to read the lines in silence. They began with an account of Captain Ogilvie’s brief visits with the nobles of the north of Scotland and what he had learned from them, then on to Slains, where the Countess of Erroll had received him with suspicion, and where luckily for Ogilvie there’d been a certain ‘Colonel Graham’, of whom Ogilvie had written: ‘He and I served formerly in France together, and we were long bed fellows.’

Dr Weir, watching my face while I read, asked, ‘What is it?’

I lowered the papers. ‘You’ve read these?’

‘I have.’

With a faint smile I rose to my feet and crossed over to sort through the short stack of new printed pages beside my computer. Picking up the last three chapters I had written, I turned back and held them out in invitation. ‘Then,’ I told the doctor, ‘you should have a look at these.’

He did. And when he’d finished, he looked over at me, wordlessly.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘That’s what I mean by proof, though. When I wrote that, I had no idea that there even was a Captain Ogilvie, or Colonel Graeme. Characters just come to me like that sometimes. They just show up. In any other book I would have said that my subconscious had invented them to serve the plot. But in this book, it doesn’t seem like I’m inventing anything. And now you give me this’—I held the copied letters up—‘and I have proof both men are real, and that they truly were at Slains.’

He was still taking it all in, I knew. ‘Remarkable,’ he said, and scanned my chapters for a second time. ‘It’s too bad Captain Ogilvie makes no mention of your Sophia in his letters to Harley.’

‘I doubt he would have thought she was important.’

Dr Weir’s eyes twinkled knowingly again as he passed back my chapters. ‘Then,’ he said, ‘he would have made a very grave mistake.’

XVI

THE COUNTESS AND THE colonel were both sitting by Sophia’s bed when she awoke. She heard them talking.

‘’Tis the safest course to take,’ said Colonel Graeme, ‘for ye cannot have him here when Fleming’s ship arrives.’

‘No, that would be disastrous.’ In the soft light of the early morning no lines marked the fine face of the countess. She looked youthful, and determined. ‘No, I do agree he must be led away. But Patrick, let some other person do it. Let my son take on that burden—he is willing, and we would not see you put yourself at risk.’

‘Your son will be more needed here, with what is coming. And I doubt that Captain Ogilvie would follow him as he would me. We are old friends.’ The words were edged with bitter cynicism. ‘I do have his trust.’

The countess waited for a moment before saying, ‘I am sorry.’

‘So am I. He was the very best of men, once.’

‘He must need the money badly.’ It was very like the countess, thought Sophia, to have sympathy enough to seek excuses for a traitor. Colonel Graeme did not share her generosity.

‘A man, when he has fallen on hard times, should seek his friends,’ he said. ‘Not sell them to his enemies.’

The countess could not argue that. She only said, ‘Take care he does not sell you, too.’

‘Och, not to worry. He’ll not have the chance. I’ll not be staying once I get him there. Ye ken yourself, your Ladyship, I’m canny as a fox, and there’ll be holes enough in Edinburgh to hide me.’

On the bed, Sophia came to full awareness now and moved against the pillow, and that movement brought the heads of both the countess and the colonel round. She thought she read relief in both their faces.

‘There,’ the countess said. ‘We’ve woken her. I warned you that we would. How do you feel, my dear?’

Sophia’s head still hurt her, but the dizziness was gone, and though her body ached in places and her limbs felt stiff and bruised, she could not bring herself to make any complaint. ‘I am well, thank you.’

A flash of admiration briefly lit the older woman’s eyes. ‘Brave girl.’ She gave Sophia’s arm a pat. ‘I will let Kirsty know you are awake, so she can bring your morning draught.’

It was a measure of how highly she regarded Colonel Graeme that she left him in the room without a chaperone, although from how he sat, with booted ankles crossed upon the side rail of the bed, his lean frame firmly rooted in the rush-backed chair, Sophia doubted any force would have the power to shift him.

She looked at him and asked, ‘The countess…did you tell her…?’

‘Aye. She kens the whole of it.’ His smile was faint behind the beard. ‘I think if I’d not sent the gardener on his way already to the devil, she’d have had it done herself last night.’

‘And Captain Ogilvie?’

‘I’ve managed to persuade him to accompany me to Edinburgh. I’ve led him to believe there is some matter in the wind down there that does deserve his interest, and that he, as a supporter of King James, will want to witness. ’Twas like saying to a wolf there is a field of lambs yet further on, if ye’ve the wish to feast.’