Corsair Pt. 01 Ch. 04: The Morning After

It rained in the night. Morning dawned bleak and grey, with a leaking sky. Over breakfast, at the too-large table in the too-large dining room, there was little talk. Lady Campbell sat at the head of the table, but drank only tea; Fiona and Andrew, opposite one another, ate in silence. When they had finished eating, Andrew excused himself, and went out into the soft rain.

-----

The tack-room was dim, and dusty. Andrew ducked in through the door, and straightened.

"You must, I think, be Iain Campbell?" he asked, extending his hand.

The old groom looked at it for a long moment, and then stood and shook it firmly.

"I am that, Aye. And you will be Commander Smith, I'm thinking?"

"Lieutenant Commander only," said Andrew, "and that of a curtesy, for my boat was not big. Andrew Smith."

"A fair good morning tae ye, Andrew Smith," said the man. "And what can I be doing for you?"

"Most immediately," said Andrew, "I should be grateful for the loan of an awl, a saddler's needle, and some pack thread..."

"That I can do," said the old man, swiftly taking them from a shelf in the dimness. "Ye hae some needful repair?"

"The fire last night," said Andrew. "Whoever started it used the petrol can from my car - and cut the strap to release it."

"It was set of a purpose?"

"Aye," said Andrew. "You would not have seen anyone..."

The old man shook his head. "My bedroom is above here," he said. "Forbye that, I did not wake until I heard the hallooing. I had thought it just a candle that went over?"

"There were no candles lit."

The old man looked at him carefully, for a long moment.

"I see. You were gey lucky, the pair o' ye."

"You are mistaken," said Andrew. "I was alone."

There was another skeptical pause. "Ye were, aye?"

"I was."

"Mhmm," said the man. "If you say so. Show me this strap you're needing fixed."

-----

The door to the dining room was slightly ajar; the voices beyond it, raised.

"You may not go, Fiona." Lady Campbell's voice. "That is final. I am very gravely displeased with you that you should have gone to him last night."

"Mother! I did not go to him!"

"You were not in your room. I heard you go out."

"I was restless. I went to stroll upon the shore in the moonlight."

"I do not believe you. But it is of no matter. You may not go. Smith is a stranger to us, and he is not a gentleman."

"He is an officer, Mother."

"All manner of hoi polloi have been made officers in this past struggle."

"If that is so, Mother - I deny it, but if it is so - it is because your generation have sent mine to the slaughter. There are few enough young men left at any station in society, and fewest of all among those whom you call 'gentlemen'. Am I to die an old maid because those men who have through blessed fortune survived do not meet your apprehension of the word 'gentleman'?

Andrew slipped back out of the front door, and, coming in again, shut it firmly. He strode briskly across to the dining room door, and rapped on it.

Lady Campbell's voice came: "Enter!"

Andrew entered. Lady Campbell remained in her seat at the head of the table; Fiona was on her feet, by the unlit fireplace.

"Lady Campbell, Miss Campbell, I fear I have outstayed my welcome here. I shall take my leave of you. Would it be convenient with you if I should keep this shirt until I am able to replace it?"

"The shirt is of no matter," said Lady Campbell.

"Commander Smith," said Fiona, "might I have a word with you apart?"

Andrew looked to Lady Campbell, but she made no move. He looked back at Fiona. "By all means."

-----

"Come in here," said Fiona. "It is my father's study; we shall not be disturbed."

Andrew followed her in. A dark room, with bookshelves up the walls and a stags head over the fireplace; two comfortable chairs stood there. Behind the large leather-topped desk was a fine, upholstered desk chair: facing it, another chair which looked hard, upright and uncomfortable. Fiona shut the door carefully, and turned the key in the lock.

"Miss Campbell..."

"Andrew, please, be gentle. This has been a most trying morning, and all my hopes are in ruins. I do not wish to plead. I do not wish to abase myself. I fear to fly into a childish tantrum. Please be gentle."

"I beg your pardon, Fiona. You may certainly count on me to be your friend, in all matters at your service."

"Then as my friend, dear Andrew - as my friend if nothing more - please would you delay your departure until tomorrow?"

"You truly wish this?"

"Do not make me beg. Please, dear Andrew, do not make me beg."

Andrew crossed to her, and, raising her hand to his lips, kissed it.

"My own affections - and desires, too - are in as turbulent a state as I believe yours to be," he said. "But if there is a hope that by staying I may serve your needs, then it is sure that there is hope that by staying I may serve mine."

Again she folded bonelessly against his chest. Again, he held her.

At last she freed herself with a sniffing giggle.

"And now I have spoiled another shirt with my tears," she said. "I should have them bring you another."

"Not at all," said Andrew, adjusting his jacket. "I shall wear it with pride."

She laughed.

"I must tell Mother that I have prevailed upon you to stay. And then I should re-dress your burns."

-----

They took luncheon in the dining room; again, there was little conversation. But as the meal was ending, Lady Campbell spoke.

"Fiona, Baxter tells me that your cousin Hugh's yacht was in the loch last evening. Did you know of this?"

"I did, Mother."

"Did you have speech with him?"

"I did, Mother. I met him on the shore. I gave him the family christening robe."

"That was not yours to give, Fiona."

"But Mother, she is your grandchild!"

Lady Campbell got up. "We will continue this conversation later."

She swept out. The door closed, firmly, behind her.

Andrew and Fiona looked at one another over the table for a long moment. At last Fiona moved.

"We should speak."

"Of course," said Andrew. "Should we retire again to the study?"

"No!" she said. "Not there. The rain seems to have blown through; let us go out."