The Kilted Stranger

by Margaret Pargeter

Almost choking, yet disconcertingly aware of his dominating authority, Sue did as she was told.. She had been about to refuse, then changed her mind. Perhaps if she obeyed he would explain and go. The exploratory inventory of his eyes affected her strangely. Panic was hidden beneath her cool reply. ‘I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time, but why should you hold me responsible for my father? His ankle, I believe, was hurt before I arrived.’ ‘It’s not his ankle. It’s his heart.’ He spoke abruptly, without expression, but leaving her in no doubt as to the authenticity of what he said, ‘The doctor came last night, after you’d gone to bed.’

  ‘You should have told me!’

  ‘Why?’ Scornfully he dismissed her exclamation. ‘What good would it have done? I’m used to John’s attacks, and you’d had about all you could take!’

  So he had noticed? Somehow his noticing removed a little of the chill from around her heart. Not that he was sparing her now! Half desperately Sue’s hands tightened around her cup as she gazed at him, mute inquiry in her eyes. ‘He might have died!’

  ‘One of these days he might.’ He refused to give her the reassurance she unconsciously sought. ‘Some things are occasionally beyond the power of human administration, as Doctor McRoberts will no doubt explain. And if it’s explanations you’re after you might be interested to hear that apparently the good doctor has known all about you from the beginning.’

  ‘From the beginning?’

  His eyes narrowed with bewildering inconsistency on her breathlessly parted lips. ‘If you’re always going to repeat what I say it might go to my head. Especially if you continue to look at me as you’re doing now.’

  ‘Oh, please ...’ Colour splashed her pale cheeks as she became aware of the subtle punishment which her constant interruptions inflicted. The sudden glint in his eye reminded her that he was very much a man who, if tried too far, would not allow their short acquaintance to deter him from seeking greater penalties.

  But then he shrugged, and she went cold again as he said, ‘It appears that your mother consulted McRoberts years ago, before she left Glenroden for good. John, I’m afraid, doesn’t seem to appreciate that, bound by medical ethics, McRoberts was unable to tell him about his own child, but maybe you can make him see reason.’

  ‘Mrs. Lennox said ...’ Totally disorganized, Sue stopped half-way, completely incapable of digesting what he told her, her mind swinging inexplicably back to the evening before.

  ‘Well, what did Mrs. Lennox say?’ he prompted smoothly, as she made no attempt to finish, but sat staring at him like a bewildered child.

  Uncertainly Sue blinked, her eyes unseeing on his hard, handsome face. ‘Something about having wondered how I would turn out. How could it have been possible for her to have known? I thought I must have heard her incorrectly.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Mrs. Lennox used to be the doctor’s receptionist and nurse, before she married and moved away, I believe. The information would be down in the surgery files.’

  ‘Now she’s back?’

  ‘Yes, but not with McRoberts. He’s had someone else for a long time. Besides, she’s a widow now, and not so young as she used to be. She has a cottage and helps here. Her nursing experience is useful when John isn’t well.’

  There was a short, tense silence as Sue’s mind sifted and tangled with the information. Nothing seemed crystal-clear, but one fact seemed to stand out as her clouded vision sought for clarity. ‘It seems beyond doubt that I am Susan Granger-Frazer?’

  He smiled thinly. ‘Quite conclusively. I’d drop the Granger bit, if I were you. It’s not relevant any more.’

  She said unevenly, ‘I’m not quite sure yet what I’ll do. You knew who I was at the hotel?’

  His eyes were suddenly guarded. ‘Let’s just say that I knew you were a Frazer, and knowing about John’s heart I was alarmed. And I think for the time being we’ll leave it at that, Miss Susan. Right now I’m going to

  suggest you get out of that bed.’

  The hardness was back, arousing her resentment, making her aware that Meric Findlay could be more of an enemy than a friend. The brief and obviously senseless but dangerous attraction she had felt for him in the hotel was gone, and she knew a flash of relief. He might have relieved her mind about certain things, but she refused to let even a flicker of gratitude show through. Rebelliously, her chin lifted slightly. ‘As soon as you’re out of the room,’ she said softly, ‘I shall do as you suggest with pleasure.’

  It seemed to Sue to be hours later before she had time to draw another breath. As she washed and dressed quickly her thoughts veered inconsistently from her father to Meric Findlay. Meric Findlay, she decided, was someone whom it would be wiser not to trust, and whom, in her father’s interests, it might be better to investigate. It might seem impertinent as well as mercenary to seem too curious about her father’s affairs straight away, but it was something to bear in mind. A little bit of private sleuthing as she went along couldn’t do any harm. Since her father’s health had broken down he had probably left everything in this man’s hands, which wasn’t a good thing. Well, now he would have someone of his own to help. Mr. Findlay might be a sort of partner, but woe betide him if he took so much as one step out of place! If she hadn’t found it possible to love her father yet, then there were other ways of proving herself a dutiful daughter.

  Bolstered a little by her brave if highly impractical thoughts, Sue scrambled into a cotton dress, brushed her hair haphazardly with one or two sweeping strokes, then ran downstairs.

  There was no one about and she was glad that she knew where to find the kitchen. But with one hand on the door she hesitated, her eyes going to the huge grandfather clock in the hall. It was after eight. Perhaps she should go and see how her father was - if he needed anything? Undoubtedly Meric Findlay with his sweeping efficiency would have taken him a cup of tea, but that might have been some time ago.

  Still nervous, she almost tiptoed back along the hall, counted two doors and knocked gently on the third, remembering what Meric Findlay had told her. When there was no reply she carefully turned the knob and looked in, almost ashamed of her relief at finding John Frazer fast asleep. The room had obviously been turned into a bedroom. It was comfortable, and warm from the small fire which burnt in the hearth. Her eyes returned to the man in the bed. He looked exhausted, and had probably had a bad night. She felt an unusual stir of pity in her heart as she studied his worn face, and vowed

  again to help him all she could.

  A tray with the remains of a light breakfast was on the table by his bed. Maybe Mrs. Lennox had popped in for an hour or two after all? Swiftly Sue picked up the tray, closing the door softly behind her as she went back to the kitchen.

  As soon as she opened the kitchen door Sue knew there was someone inside, but her eyes widened to see Carlotte Craig sitting by the window, very much at home, drinking coffee! Since she had never expected to see Carlotte again, or quite so soon, surprise held her silent while the girl looked her coolly up and down.

  ‘I shouldn’t just stand there if I were you,’ Carlotte drawled above the rim of her cup. ‘Come in and close the door. You seem capable of worming your way into most places.’

  Her voice was insolent, her eyes as unfriendly as they had been in Edinburgh, and her choice of words clearly reflected her frame of mind. Sue was hungry and didn’t feel particularly friendly herself, but a flicker of curiosity controlled an equally sharp reply. How had Carlotte known she was here? And why was she here herself? She must surely live somewhere in the neighbourhood to be here so early. Obviously, as on their previous meeting, Carlotte resented her. But why? Was she already engaged to Meric Findlay, and considered Sue an interloper?

  Slowly Sue placed the tray she was carrying on the wide scrubbed table, wishing fervently that she was more familiar with the general layout of the kitchen. She couldn’t very well start searching for things while Carlotte sat surveying her with such a cool, calculating stare.

  ‘Were you seeking Mr.
Findlay, or did you come to see my father?’ she asked, a hostile urge to make Carlotte aware of her own position warring with her usual leaning towards politeness, so that she tempered the impact of her words with a slight smile.

  But if she had hoped to startle Carlotte then she was to be disappointed. As if she had seen quite dearly through Sue’s subterfuge, her thin lips curled contemptuously. ‘I met Meric on the glen road, and he was telling me you’re claiming to be John’s daughter. I simply couldn’t resist the temptation to come and see for myself. I am, by the way, John’s cousin.’

  ‘John’s cousin?’

  ‘Yes. People do have cousins, you know. And my claim might be much more authentic than yours.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ As she met the animosity in Carlotte’s eyes, Sue’s voice was little above a whisper.

  ‘I mean ... ’ there was a furious clatter as Carlotte jumped to her feet, leaving her cup on the window-sill, ‘that in spite of what John or McRoberts say - or what ever Meric chooses to think - I intend to expose you, even if it takes months!’

  Sue sat down abruptly, feeling the strength drain from her legs as Carlotte slammed out without a backward glance. She knew a growing desire to follow Carlotte, to pack her case and never come back. If this house had been so full of intrigues when her mother lived here, then no wonder she had run away. With unseeing eyes Sue stumbled to the window, resting her hot forehead against the cool pane, immediately regretting her hasty thoughts but unable to control them.

  Then, lifting her head a little, she looked down the glen. Before her it spread into the blue distance, barely touched yet by the first warm tints of autumn, but full of promise of the vivid colouring which would surely come. Already the heather was purple where it covered the rough, undulating ground against the bare mountains. Last night in the dusk there had been mist on the hills, but this morning the contours stood out, clearly defined against the skyline. Water glinted, catching the sunlight where it ran through rock, and over the lower slopes came the dark green frosting of forest.

  A land enticingly beautiful. Sue’s breath caught in her throat and, for a minute, she forgot Carlotte’s threatening words. The willow trees against the low stone wall outside bent gently to the warm west wind, beckoning her to come and explore. Suddenly she longed to be out, flying through the heather, up into the woodlands, into the world she could glimpse at through the trees.

  But of course she could not, though how her mother could have left such a place she could not think. With a sigh she turned from the window and, as she did so, her eyes fell upon a note propped between a teapot and a jug of milk. Slowly she walked across to the cabinet where the teapot stood. The note was addressed simply - Susan, and nervously she picked it up. The handwriting was masculine and before she opened it she guessed it was from Meric Findlay. It was, and he wrote,

  ‘I wouldn’t advise you to disturb John. He’ll probably sleep until lunch time when Mrs. Lennox could be back. Just look in now and then to see if he’s O.K. I won’t be in for lunch, so don’t start preparing anything for me.’ The note terminated abruptly and, equally, abruptly was signed Findlay. Thankfully Sue put it down, unable to suppress a flicker of relief that she wouldn’t see him again for at least a few hours. It would give her time to rally her defences, and, she thought wryly, to try to find some food for herself. He talked of lunch while she hadn’t even had breakfast yet! With an indignant hand she swept the remains of his from the kitchen table, carrying the empty dishes to the sink.

  When at last she did find something to eat Carlotte’s strange behaviour kept spinning through her head, and suddenly she wasn’t hungry any more. With a frown she pushed aside her last piece of toast. If Carlotte was really John’s cousin and expected to marry Meric Findlay, then she might also expect to inherit the whole of Glenroden, and if the size of the house was anything to go by then the estate itself must be quite large. By coming here Carlotte probably saw her as a threat to all her plans, and, if she was entirely mercenary, no wonder she was bitter.

  Sue sighed worriedly, losing interest in her breakfast as she jumped to her feet and started to tidy the kitchen. Anything was better than sitting bothering herself with things which must have happened before she came here. There must be plenty to do. The intrigues of Meric Findlay and his girl-friend would have to wait until she had more time to consider them. But, unaccountably, as she worked her heart ached with a peculiar pain as she pictured Meric on the glen road that morning telling Carlotte all about her.

  To her relief Mrs. Lennox arrived back before twelve, earlier than Sue had expected. ‘I managed to postpone my second appointment, dear,’ she smiled. ‘I thought it best, as everything here will be strange to you, and Mr. Findlay would be too busy to show you around.’

  Gratefully Sue returned her smile. John hadn’t woken up, but he had been restless, and Sue had felt a guilty apprehension each time she had peeped into his room.

  ‘Sometimes he sleeps for hours,’ Mrs. Lennox assured her, ‘when he’s ill like this. I’ll look after him now that I’m back. I know exactly how to go on. But that isn’t to say, dear,’ she added, ‘that he won’t want to see you when he does wake up. In fact it might be better to stay near at hand, as I’m sure you’ll be the first person he asks for.’

  Sue nodded, and helped Mrs. Lennox to prepare a light lunch before

  accompanying her on a tour of the house.

  ‘I don’t rightly know if it’s my business to do this,’ she confessed, as they progressed from room to room. ‘The trouble is I’m never quite sure where the Major really lives. Whether it’s here or down at the cottage.’

  ‘The Major?’ Puzzled, Sue looked away from the wide precincts of the drawing-room to gaze inquiringly on the nurse’s bright face.

  ‘Your father, of course. Didn’t you know he was in the Army? The regulars, that is.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Understanding dawned as Sue turned her head. ‘I didn’t know his rank.’

  ‘Never mind.’ Quietly Mrs. Lennox closed another door and beckoned Sue back to the kitchen. ‘It doesn’t really matter. You can’t find everything out at once. How do you like the house?’ She changed the subject abruptly.

  ‘It’s nice ...’ Then, because that sounded insipid, Sue smiled warmly, her small even teeth gleaming white. ‘I didn’t want to say, but it’s just the sort of house I’ve always dreamt of. Big, but not too big. Comfortable without being dreary. Full of antiques which manage to look beautiful as well as old. The whole atmosphere is somehow nice.’

  Mrs. Lennox nodded approvingly as she stoked up the boiler. ‘I’ve felt it myself. It’s a pleasant house. Mr. Findlay thinks so, too. He’s bought some of the nicest antiques himself, over the years. Perhaps he’ll show you some time when he’s not too busy.’

  ‘Mr. Findlay would appear to be a very busy man.’ Unaware of the hardness of her tone, Sue avoided Mrs. Lennox’s inquiring gaze, her mouth set mutinously. ‘I suppose,’ she conceded, when Mrs. Lennox didn’t reply, ‘that when my father is ill he has everything to do himself. ’

  Which wasn’t exactly what she’d meant in the first place, and she knew that Mrs. Lennox knew it!

  To Sue’s dismay John Frazer’s attack turned out to be a bad one, and it was several days before they were able to have much of a conversation. During this time she hadn’t ventured far from the house, but could find nothing to verify her own suspicions. Although Carlotte was around quite a bit, fussing over-loudly about her cousin, Sue didn’t notice that Meric was over-attentive, but then he wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He could be spending quite a lot of time with Carlotte for all she knew. Somehow she had a feeling that Mr. Findlay, in spite of his enigmatic exterior, was no hermit. There was something about his mouth which made her suspect that he enjoyed a little dalliance with the opposite sex, even though she herself did not arouse his interest. Nor, she assured herself emphatically, did she want to.

  She couldn’t deny, however, that even if he seem
ed generally unaware of her existence she was very much aware of him as a man. She saw little of him. During the day he was seldom in for meals, and in the evening he often went out for dinner, apparently not eager to share a simple repast at the kitchen table. But something about him, each time she saw him, drew the same response which she had been vividly conscious of in Edinburgh. It was probably just those ridiculous kilts which he wore, she decided wryly. In them he looked like some wild Highlander from one of her father’s books. Reason enough for any girl’s heart to miss a beat, but no grounds whatsoever for imagining that she was irrevocably attracted.

  But her heart continued to annoy her by behaving unpredictably one evening when he did come home early. Mrs. Lennox usually went back to the village for an hour or two each night before returning to sleep in case she should be needed. It was quiet, and after dinner Sue sat for an hour with her father, then left him happily studying a huge military tome which Carlotte had brought. She always seemed to be bringing him something, and not always, Sue thought privately, were her gifts very suitable. Not that she ever openly objected as John seemed to welcome the girl, and her gifts gave him much pleasure. Indeed, Sue sometimes thought herself that she might have misjudged Carlotte if it hadn’t been for the occasional glances she intercepted. Secretly Sue suspected that her frequent calls had as much to do with Meric Findlay as her father, but it would have been unkind to say so.

  On this particular evening a peculiar restlessness made it impossible for Sue to sit still any longer, and after assuring herself that John’s bell was within reach, she gently closed the door and wandered into the drawing room. She was standing gazing at a painting of her grandmother when Meric Findlay walked in.

  He didn’t surprise her as she had heard him moving in the hall, but her eyes swung, startled, as she saw who it was, silently berating her sixth sense for not warning her. At this point she had known there could be no escape. Not that this mattered, she told herself stoutly, yet somehow wishing that he hadn’t caught her staring at a family portrait.