Katherine Wentworth (The Marriage of Katherine Book 1)

by D. E. Stevenson

  To anyone else it might have seemed strange that I should be setting out for a walk at such an hour, but to Mr. MacRam it seemed the most natural thing in the world. He greeted me in his usual dignified manner.

  ‘It iss a grand morning for a walk,’ he declared.

  ‘Yes. I woke early. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.’

  ‘Och, it would be a pity to hurry,’ he said. ‘Mistress MacRam can see to the chiltren.’

  This was kind and thoughtful, but quite unnecessary—I intended to be back long before eight—however I thanked him and agreed that it was a grand morning and hurried on through the wood.

  All this time there was only one idea in my head: I must see Alec. It had become a vital necessity to see him. I never thought of what I was going to say to him or how I should explain my visit at this early hour. I must see him—that was all.

  When I came out of the wood the sun had risen from behind the mountains and the dewdrops on the heather were sparkling like diamonds in his rays. I took the path which led to the village. It was not far now. When I got there Alec’s car would be standing in its usual place—and Alec would be having an early breakfast at the inn.

  At this hour the village was deserted, all the little houses had their windows tightly shut and curtained. I turned the corner and saw that the inn was shut—the outer door firmly closed, the windows fastened securely with green shutters—and there was no car standing beneath the chestnut tree.

  The inn was shut—and there was no car—so Alec was not here!

  The disappointment was so bitter that I felt quite stunned. I stood for a moment or two gazing at the empty place beneath the tree—and wondered what to do next.

  Gradually I began to recover from the shock and to realise what a fool I had been. Alec had been here—he had come to the cottage—I had seen him standing on the path. Why hadn’t I called to him?

  Looking back and thinking about it, I couldn’t understand myself at all. Why hadn’t I called and waved and welcomed him? It had been crazy to watch him from my window and make no sign. It had been unkind. Now it was too late; he had come—and gone.

  Friendship was what I had wanted—or thought I wanted—and Alec had given it to me generously; he had served me and helped me in every way he could. He had said he could read my thoughts—but I had never even tried to understand him. I had been utterly selfish and blind. I had taken all he offered and given nothing in return. By this time my ‘solid and sensible’ knight of romance was on his way back to Edinburgh. He was tired—yes, of course he was tired—and probably he was unhappy. He was in no mood to be careful. I could see him speeding along those narrow twisting Highland roads in his powerful car. . . .

  The sound of footsteps roused me from my miserable thoughts and I turned to see Alec striding towards me down the empty street.

  ‘Alec!’ I cried—and ran to him and put my arms round his neck.

  *

  3

  Time seemed to have gone adrift that morning so I can’t tell how long it was before Alec and I came to our senses. We had sat on the bench beneath the tree for a bit and then we had started to walk back to the cottage. When we were half-way through the wood we had seen a fallen tree and had sat down upon the trunk. It was warm and pleasant sitting there with Alec’s arm round my waist.

  So far we had had no sensible conversation at all and I was still feeling slightly dazed by the suddenness of everything.

  ‘You haven’t told me why you were wandering about the village at that unseemly hour,’ said Alec.

  ‘I was looking for Clara.’

  ‘Clara?’ asked Alec in bewilderment. ‘Do you mean the barmaid at the inn?’

  I laughed. ‘Not that Clara. It was your car I was looking for. When I didn’t see her standing there I thought you had gone.’

  ‘I left her with Mr. Buchanan. He’s giving her a check-up and changing the oil.’

  How simple it was—when you knew.

  ‘He’s very good,’ explained Alec. ‘He does it all himself, of course, and he’s careful and conscientious, so I always . . . but, Katherine, how did you know I was here?’

  ‘A little bird told me. Look, Alec, there he is! Isn’t he a pet?’

  There he was. It was the same chaffinch that Daisy and I had seen—or else his twin brother. He sat on the top rail of the fence preening his feathers and chirping to himself in a contented sort of way.

  ‘Yes, he’s very sweet,’ agreed Alec. ‘But you haven’t told me——’

  ‘And you haven’t told me how you managed to come. You said you wouldn’t be able to get away.’

  ‘Oh, this was just a flying visit. I meant to look in at the cottage when you were all having breakfast, and give you a surprise, and then go straight back to Edinburgh.’

  ‘You can’t!’ I cried. ‘Alec, you can’t leave me like that!’

  ‘No, I don’t think I can,’ he admitted. ‘I had better phone to Andrew directly after breakfast and explain what has happened.’

  ‘Your partner?’

  ‘Yes, Andrew Forth. I’m sure he’ll agree to stand in for me. He’s the kindest fellow in the world. As a matter of fact he can’t very well object because he and Anna have been telling me that I ought to get married. They were married, themselves, about three years ago and they’re blissfully happy, so they think everybody——’

  ‘Alec! Are you sure you want to marry me? I mean, we had better be sure before we go any further.’

  Apparently Alec was quite sure.

  When that was settled I suggested that Alec should come and have breakfast at Craig-an-Ron. I knew there would be plenty of food; there was always more than enough for everybody.

  ‘Yes, later,’ he agreed. ‘It’s only just after seven so we can sit here a bit longer and get things settled. There are all sorts of things to arrange. I must phone to Ellen—after breakfast.’

  ‘Why Ellen?’

  ‘To tell her about it. Ellen thought those two small rooms at the end of the passage would be nice for the twins, but they’ll have to be done up, of course.’

  ‘Ellen thought? What do you mean?’ I asked in bewilderment.

  ‘Oh, well,’ said Alec apologetically. ‘Ellen has been with us for years and years. She chats to me a lot, especially when Zilla isn’t there. She thought it would be nice if I married you—that’s all.’

  I laughed. ‘Well, that’s one person who will be pleased.’

  ‘She’ll be delighted . . . and of course she loves the children.’

  ‘She only saw them for a few moments—in the hall.’

  ‘Well, anyway, she thought they were “little dears.” That’s why she decided that they must have those two rooms. What a good thing The Cedars is so large! There will be plenty of room for us all.’

  The Cedars! It was an amazing idea to me. ‘Alec, are you sure——’ I began.

  ‘Sure about what?’

  ‘About having us all to live at The Cedars.’

  ‘Don’t you like the house?’ he asked in surprise. ‘I thought you liked it. Would you rather live somewhere else?’

  ‘No, of course not. The Cedars is a perfectly lovely house. I was just—just feeling a bit bewildered. Have you thought about it seriously? Do you really want to—to take on the whole family?’

  ‘I’ve thought about it seriously ever since the first moment when I saw you in the garden having tea with Zilla.’

  ‘Not really?’

  ‘Yes, really and truly. Do you remember you left your scarf? Well, I pushed it down behind the cushion in the swing-seat, hoping that you’d forget about it and leave it behind. I wanted an excuse to go and see you. It worked out splendidly,’ added Alec with a little chuckle.

  ‘It was very wicked of you,’ I told him.

  ‘Yes, frightfully wicked. But it was the only way to get your address. If I had asked Zilla for your address she wouldn’t have given it to me. However, don’t let’s bother about that now. We were talking about The Cedars.
You must have Zilla’s room, of course; it’s a lovely big room looking out on to the garden and there’s a dressing-room next door. Simon can have my room, and——’

  ‘Your room? But what about you?’

  Alec looked at me in alarm.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I said. ‘Yes, of course. It’s all right, Alec, I’m—I’m—sort of dazed this morning.’

  ‘You aren’t feeling ill, are you?’ asked Alec anxiously.

  ‘No, just dazed, that’s all. Tell me more about your plans. Zilla showed me over The Cedars but I don’t remember it very well.’

  ‘There are several other rooms—besides the ones I’ve mentioned—they aren’t furnished of course, because Zilla and I didn’t need them, but it would be quite easy to furnish them if necessary.’

  ‘I love babies,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘The twins were terribly sweet and cuddly.’

  There was a short silence. Then Alec said, ‘You can do exactly as you like—always.’

  ‘That’s a bit reckless, isn’t it? Perhaps I shall remind you of your promise some day when you least expect it.’

  He took my hand and put it gently against his cheek. ‘We must be married soon,’ he said.

  ‘We can’t be married all in a hurry.’

  ‘We can and we will. We shall be married as soon as possible—at Inverquill. It’s a dear little church and I know the rector. I shall ring him up this morning and ask him how soon——’

  ‘Alec, we can’t!’

  ‘We can,’ declared Alec. ‘We’ll be married at Inverquill and all go back to Edinburgh together.’

  ‘Alec, you’re going too fast! I must have time to—to think. Really, Alec, we can’t——’

  ‘Listen, darling,’ said Alec earnestly. ‘My plan is best. You don’t want an Edinburgh wedding with hundreds of guests and a lot of fuss, do you?’

  ‘No, of course not. It would be frightful.’

  ‘Frightful,’ agreed Alec. ‘Much nicer to be married quietly at Inverquill. Besides, there’s Zilla.’

  ‘Zilla? She isn’t coming back to live at The Cedars?’

  ‘No, definitely not. I told you that before. But she’ll have to come back to pack up all her belongings. If we’re safely married she can’t do anything to—to upset things.’

  ‘You’re frightened of Zilla?’

  ‘A little bit frightened,’ he admitted. ‘Ever since I found out . . . I mean, you can’t tell what she’s going to do next.’

  I, too, was afraid of what Zilla might do—and say. She would be furiously angry, of course. I was afraid, not so much for myself as for Alec. He had been under her thumb for years—and she was unscrupulous. A woman like that can be very dangerous indeed.

  ‘If we’re safely married she can’t do anything,’ repeated Alec.

  ‘Yes, I see what you mean. Let’s be married before we go back to Edinburgh—only I shall have to tell Aunt Liz. She will want to come.’

  ‘Of course she must come,’ said Alec joyfully. He tightened his arm round my waist and I leant my head against his shoulder.

  For a little while we were silent.

  There was something I wanted to tell Alec—something important—but for a moment or two I couldn’t think what it was. Then I remembered. ‘Did you know that Zilla is trying to sell Craig-an-Ron?’

  ‘No! How did you hear that?’

  ‘Mrs. MacRam told me. She’s very sad about it, poor thing. It’s a dear little house—I’ve been very happy there—so I hope somebody very nice will buy it.’

  ‘I shall buy it and give it to you as a wedding present—unless you’d rather have something else.’

  I laughed hysterically. ‘Yes, I’d rather have a diamond tiara, please. I’ve often thought it would be nice to have one to wear when I was cooking dinner.’

  ‘Have that as well,’ suggested Alec, smiling. ‘As a matter of fact a small car would be more useful. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Oh dear, I’d forgotten you were so rich! Everyone will say I’m marrying you for your money. All your friends will be sorry for you—have you thought of that, Alec?—they’ll say you’ve been caught by a designing widow with three——’

  ‘Let them say! I don’t care a tinker’s curse what anybody says—besides we’ll be married before “they” know anything at all about it. You don’t mind what people say, do you?’

  ‘I think I do—a little.’

  ‘Silly,’ said Alec, giving me a gentle squeeze.

  ‘Not silly,’ I told him. ‘I wish I had a little more money of my own. You’re marrying a beggar-woman, Alec.’

  ‘When we’re married I shall endow you “with all my worldly goods,” so you’ll be reasonably well off.’

  ‘I wish I had money of my own—now. For one thing I should like to be able to give you a really nice wedding present.’

  ‘You can,’ said Alec. ‘I want a half share in the children.’

  There were tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I couldn’t speak.

  ‘I hope they’ll be pleased,’ continued Alec in doubtful tones. ‘It’s bound to be a bit of a shock to them—we must be prepared for that. You’ll have to watch them carefully; don’t let them brood about it and get all sorts of wrong ideas into their heads. Daisy and Denis will get used to it, if we give them plenty of time, but I’m worried about Simon.’

  ‘Simon thinks you’re marvellous.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps, as a friend and a cricket coach, but I have a feeling he may be a bit jealous. He has had you all to himself, for so long. We shall have to go warily, Katherine. We mustn’t spring it on him suddenly.’

  Perhaps Alec was right. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘I’ll get him alone and—and try to explain.’

  ‘Good. That’s settled then. We won’t say anything about it this morning. To tell you the truth, I’ve been dreading it—feeling a bit shy,’ said Alec with an apologetic smile. ‘You must choose the right time to tell them. By the way, it’s twenty to eight. Is it too early to stir up Mrs. MacRam and ask for breakfast?’

  ‘Not a bit. We always have breakfast at eight.’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ he explained. ‘Perhaps it isn’t the right thing to feel hungry, on an occasion like this, but I’m an ordinary sort of bloke. I’m “solid and sensible”—not romantic.’

  ‘Are you sure you aren’t just a little bit romantic?’

  ‘“Solid and sensible,”’ said Alec. ‘Let’s go and eat porridge and bacon and eggs at Craig-an-Ron.’

  Alec took out his handkerchief and made a knot in the corner. ‘That’s to remind me to tell Andrew to buy your wedding present,’ he explained. ‘I shall ask him to do it at once in case somebody else takes a fancy to Craig-an-Ron. You’d like it, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I should love it. We could use it for holidays—and for your fishing. Mrs. MacRam will be delighted. Oh, Alec, what a lovely present!’

  We rose and walked on.

  I slipped my arm through Alec’s. ‘You said you wanted a half share in the children,’ I reminded him. ‘Which do you want? Simon, I suppose. You know him best, don’t you?’

  ‘Half of all three. They’re all good value. If I had to choose between them it would be Denis.’

  I was surprised—and pleased. Den was a quiet little boy and often was overlooked and put in the shade by the others, so it was good to find that Alec appreciated him. I had noticed that Alec always called him Denis; perhaps I should try to give him his proper name.

  ‘There’s a lot of you in Denis,’ continued Alec thoughtfully. ‘He’s a whole person and made of the right stuff. Some day we’re both going to be very proud of Denis.’

  ‘What’s his line?’ I asked, half smiling.

  ‘Medicine. We must find out all about it and make sure that he has the best possible training. You knew he wanted to be a doctor, didn’t you?’

  I had known it, vaguely, but I hadn’t paid much attention to Den’s aspirations; to me he seemed little more than a baby.

  ‘Isn’t it fun!�
�� exclaimed Alec.

  ‘Fun?’

  ‘Yes, to have a ready-made family, all so different from each other and so interesting. We mustn’t let Simon go to Limbourne. We shall have to——’

  ‘It’s off. He decided not to go.’

  ‘Good!’ exclaimed Alec. ‘That saves a lot of trouble. Has he quarrelled with his grandfather—irrevocably?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Good,’ repeated Alec. ‘Nothing could be better—you must tell me all about it some time. Let’s hope the old man will live to a ripe old age.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked in surprise.

  ‘Because if he dies before Simon can cope with it himself we shall have the property on our hands. It would be a bit difficult.’

  ‘It would be frightful! I never thought of that.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Alec cheerfully. ‘It’s a mistake to worry about future problems. The baronet will probably live to be ninety. When Simon leaves school he must go to Cambridge; that’s the place for him. I shall go and see him and watch him make a century for his college.’

  ‘Alec, you’re dreaming!’

  ‘Nice dreams, Katherine. Don’t grudge them to me.’

  ‘Of course not!’ I cried. ‘I feel so grateful to you for—for everything. I can’t begin to tell you——’

  ‘Listen!’ he exclaimed, stopping and looking at me seriously. ‘Let’s get this straight. My father built up a very fine business and left me shares in it, which bring in a considerable amount of money. I’m making quite a good income myself—so I’ve got much more than I need. (I give away a good deal but that’s not the point.) Sometimes I’ve felt the money to be a burden; it’s doing no good—if you see what I mean. Now, it’s going to be useful. I’m going to be able to use it in the best possible way.’

  ‘Yes, but I still feel——’

  ‘That’s why I’m happy, Katherine; that’s why I’m dreaming dreams; that’s why you must never feel grateful. You understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. There was nothing more I could say. It would be difficult not to feel grateful, but at least I could refrain from expressing my gratitude—if that was what he wanted.