Lucy by M.C. Beaton Read Free Book Online Page A

could make a fortune.”
    “It’s the moral point of view that worries me,” said Lucy.
    The schoolteacher pushed her glasses back on her head and surveyed her former pupil. “To my mind, what you’re doing at the moment is not particularly moral. I was anxious for your mother to send you to the university but I suppose she didn’t tell you anything about that? No. I thought she wouldn’t. Had her mind set on this lady’s maid business. I called her a snob and she wasn’t half mad. So there you are, waiting on some silly little girl hand and foot and here we are looking at the beginnings of a fortune.
    “It may seem hard, my dear, but there’s no way for a young girl like yourself to make her way in the world without some sort of an income.
    “Forget MacGregor’s wild ideas about a Season. But do as he says. Go to the casinos and get yourself a little nest egg. Hamish MacGregor is all right you know. A bit wild for an old man and more than often a bit drunk, but he’s a decent body for all that.”
    Lucy began to feel the stirrings of heady excitement. “I told Mr. MacGregor that, if you decided in favor of his plan, we would leave tonight.”
    “It’s as good a time as any,” said Miss Johnstone. “How are you both going to find the money for your travels?”
    “Mr. MacGregor says he’s got his life’s savings put by,” said Lucy.
    “Well, it’s fitting the auld devil should pay for something. I don’t think you should leave together. You take the steamer to Glasgow and I’ll send Hamish by road to meet you. Speak of the devil!”
    The bony figure of the butler loomed in the doorway, his eyes sparkling. “It’s ‘yes’” he cried. “I can read it in your faces!”
    “Calm down, man,” said Miss Johnstone, pouring an extra cup. “Have you thought about changing your appearances?”
    “Aye,” said the butler. “Nobody will recognize miss, here, once she’s all togged out. As for me—a bit of a beard, a bit of a wig and nobody will be a bit the wiser.”
    “Finish your tea and be off with you, Mr. MacGregor,” said the schoolteacher, “while me and Lucy sit here and write a letter to her mother. She’ll grieve a bit, Lucy. It’s only to be expected. But she’ll be glad to know that you’re safe. I’ll tell her that you’ve gone to Glasgow to find work so that you can pay for your studies at the university. Send me regular letters and I’ll get them posted to her from Glasgow. I can use a friend’s address. There’s no danger of her going to see you?”
    Lucy shook her head. “She thinks that everything outside of Marysburgh is foreign country.”
    “Then you had better go home and pack up what you need. Have courage, Lucy. If worse comes to worst and your luck fails, you can always come back here to me.”
    After she and Miss Johnstone had composed a suitable letter for Mrs. Balfour, Lucy walked slowly back into the town and turned down the lane that was marked Glebe Road. She had only been a little over four weeks away from home and already the house looked smaller.
    How quiet and dark it was in the kitchen! Everything was scrubbed and somehow lifeless. She climbed the narrow stairs to her room. She had very few belongings; some books, a school photograph, a lucky penny, school certificates. Lucy sighed. There was really nothing that was worth packing.
    She slowly went downstairs and placed her farewell letter on the kitchen table. Then she opened the kitchen door and stepped out into a blaze of sunshine. The weather had changed in its usual mercurial fashion, a frisky breeze sending the wisps of mist up to the mountain tops.
    Lucy began the long walk to the tradesmen’s entrance of the castle, which was a good three miles from the town. Suddenly she saw a bush of white heather growing among the rocks beside the road. She bent down and tore off a small spray and put it into her handbag. At least she would have one reminder of home.
    That evening she waited nervously at the