M.C. Beaton: Death of a Gentle Lady

Elspeth felt miserable. Hamish hadn’t married her, but the consolation was always that he hadn’t married anyone else.

♦

Colonel Halburton-Smythe phoned his daughter Priscilla, who was working in London. “Hamish Macbeth is getting married in a couple of weeks, and to some foreigner.”

Priscilla held the receiver so tightly that her knuckles stood out white. “Who is this female?”

“Some Turk who was working as a maid for one of the locals. Stunning-looking girl.”

He went on to talk about the running of the hotel while Priscilla barely listened. Hamish! To be married!

∨ Death of a Gentle Lady ∧

2

Marriage is a desperate thing .

—John Selden

Hamish Macbeth was thoroughly miserable. After all the red tape had been gone through and he had permission to marry Ayesha and had returned triumphantly to tell her the news, it was to find that Mrs. Gentle had taken over.

He raged at Ayesha, who had just informed him that Mrs. Gentle had not only promised Ayesha a generous gift of money and said the reception should be held in her home, but even paid up for the church roof. She was restored in the eyes of the Highlanders to local saint.

Hamish, hearing all this horrible news from Ayesha at the police station, said grimly, “Then the wedding is off.”

Ayesha looked at him with cold eyes. “If you cancel this wedding, I will tell everyone you got my visa forged.”

“Then you’d be deported.”

“If you don’t marry me, I’ll be deported anyway.”

Hamish, normally easy-going, could feel himself in the grip of a blind rage. The news of his forthcoming marriage had made his bosses relent and promise that he could keep his police station. If he cancelled it, his station would be under threat again.

♦

Mrs. Gentle was sitting over her accounts, scowling at them. She was regretting her generosity. She had guessed Hamish Macbeth was behind her recent fall from grace and, knowing that he would be furious with her for taking over the wedding arrangements, had done just that. She had supplied Ayesha with a wedding outfit. But now she had learned that a highland wedding reception was a free-for-all. Everyone from around the Highlands, from gamekeepers to fishermen and forestry workers, would be cramming into her elegant home. She tapped her pen against her still-perfect teeth. Then there was that ridiculous sum of money she had promised Ayesha. Something about the girl had made her uneasy. What had she overheard when the family had been in the castle for that reunion?

She rang the little silver bell on her desk. When Ayesha appeared, Mrs. Gentle said with her sweetest smile, “I am doing a lot for you.”

“And I am so grateful,” said Ayesha.

“The fact is, it is all more than I can really afford. I am afraid I won’t be able to give you the ten thousand pounds I promised you.”

“I need that money!” exclaimed Ayesha.

“My dear girl, you are to be married.”

“A policeman does not earn much.”

“Then get a job!”

Ayesha looked down at her and said in carefully measured tones, “If you do not give me the money, I will tell everyone about you. I will tell them everything I overheard at that family party of yours.”

Mrs. Gentle turned in her chair and looked up at her. For one moment, Ayesha felt frightened. Mrs. Gentle’s eyes were full of hate and venom. But then she turned away and said quietly, “I’ll see what I can do, Ayesha.”

♦

Hamish Macbeth’s wedding day. Only a few villagers were going to attend the ceremony in Inverness: the rest would congregate at Mrs. Gentle’s for the reception.

Jimmy Anderson was to act as best man. Ayesha had arrived the evening before and left two large suitcases at the police station. Hamish realised he would need to let her have his bedroom while he slept in the cell. His dog, Lugs, and his wild cat, Sonsie, had sensed their master’s misery. Whenever Ayesha appeared, Lugs growled and Sonsie glared at the girl with baleful eyes.

Jimmy found Hamish sitting at his kitchen table in his dressing gown. “Come on, man,” he cried. “Get a move on.”

Hamish sighed and uncoiled himself from his chair. “What’s up, laddie?” asked Jimmy. “You’re going to marry the most smashing-looking girl.”

“Wedding nerves,” said Hamish bleakly.

Urged by Jimmy, he dressed quickly in his best suit. Jimmy was to drive him to Inverness.

“The super’s going to be there,” said Jimmy. “He’s organised a guard of coppers, crossed truncheons when you leave as a married man.”

Hamish grunted by way of reply. He thought a large noose hanging outside the registry office would be more appropriate. How could he have been such a fool? He admitted to himself that had he done it not only to keep his beloved police station and his cat and dog, but out of his malicious highland streak which wanted to imagine what Priscilla and Elspeth would both think when they heard the news.

His mother and father were delighted. He could hardly let them know of the mistake he had made. They were travelling to Inverness from Rogart for the ceremony and had forgiven him for not having introduced them to his fiancée.

When Hamish arrived at the registry office, he was only dimly aware of a sea of faces. Then he saw his mother looking at him with anxious eyes and went and hugged her.

The horrible Mrs. Gentle had promised to be Ayesha’s bridesmaid. Hamish went into the entrance hall of the registry and waited for his bride-to-be with hatred in his heart.

And waited.

Superintendent Daviot approached. “Time’s getting on, Hamish, and the registrar has another wedding to perform this morning.”

“I’ll phone her and see what’s keeping her.” Hamish dialled Ayesha’s mobile. It rang and rang and then switched over to the answering service.

“No good,” he said.

“Phone Mrs. Gentle,” said Jimmy. “She’s supposed to be bringing her.”

“I don’t have her number.”

“I’ll get it from directory enquiries,” said Jimmy. He moved off.

After five minutes, he came back. “I’m right sorry, Hamish. Mrs. Gentle says she can’t find her. She said she went out for a walk very early and never came back.”

Blair’s face loomed up, a fat grin on it. “She’s stood you up,” he said.

Somewhere inside Hamish was the beginning of a little warm glow of relief.

♦

Mrs. Gentle’s home was crammed with villagers. She had tried to turn them away, but they had retaliated by saying it was a shame to let good food and drink go to waste and simply walked in. Not only that, but they had found the wedding presents laid out for display in the morning room and begun to take them back.

A band had turned up and had begun to play, and the house echoed to the sound of accordion, fiddle, and drums.

♦

Hamish returned to the police station after having assured his family that he would be all right. There was a hysterical message on the answering machine from Mrs. Gentle, demanding that he come to her house immediately and tell everyone to go home. He had told Jimmy to go to the reception, adding that he would be along as soon as he could.

When Jimmy had left, he went into the bedroom and flung the first of Ayesha’s suitcases onto the bed. It was not locked. He opened it and rummaged around. Then he opened the other one. In the flap at the back of the suitcase, he found a wallet. It contained ten thousand pounds in crisp notes and Ayesha’s passport. He put the money back in the wallet and took the passport with him into the kitchen. He took the lid off his unlit wood-burning stove and dropped it in. It could stay there, he thought grimly, until he found out where she had gone. Then he set out for the castle.