The Kilted Stranger

by Margaret Pargeter

  Once filled, he put them on to a tray with a basin of sugar. ‘Open the door for me, there’s a good girl. We may as well have this now that it’s ready.’ His keen eyes flicked to her face and she felt unpredictable tears stinging her eyelids. Quickly she did as he instructed, hurrying into the other room, suddenly afraid that he should notice. The knowledge that he disturbed her she would rather keep to herself.

  She went back to her chair by the fire, scarcely aware that he had put the tray on the table until a smothered exclamation jerked her around. With dismay she saw that his eyes were fixed on the letter which she had been writing to Tim before he had arrived. Uneasily she remembered the exact wording, wishing fervently that she hadn’t left it where Meric could see it. Now it was too late! She saw the scepticism, the touch of derision at his mouth as he picked up the sheet of notepaper.

  ‘And who is Tim?’ he demanded, slanting a glance at her perturbed face, ominously quiet.

  The change in him was barely perceptible, yet it was there. Never had Sue felt more like running away, or wishing that the ground would open and swallow her up, He stood there like the day of judgement, scattering her wits when she most needed them. ‘Just a friend,’ she managed to croak at his arrogant eyebrows.

  ‘Just a friend,’ he repeated with extreme dryness, scrutinizing her closely. ‘Why write as if you’d won the pools?’

  ‘I don’t know how you come to that conclusion,’ she faltered. How could she confess, in his present mood, that she knew very well what he meant? It wasn’t what she had intended putting down, and she had been going to tear it up—

  Disparagingly he rapped out, ‘I’m afraid you don’t fool me one bit. Not now. A girl who responds as you do in a man’s arms wouldn’t be without boy-friends! ’

  In the half-light his face was grim, and Sue shrank back suddenly cold. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she gasped, through stiff lips.

  ‘I’m not gullible, nor am I a fool. What happens next? You’ll be having dear Tim along to view the promised land? Your rich inheritance?’

  ‘How dare you!’ she flung at him, rage replacing her former dismay, her face white. ‘You’re quite mistaken in your horrible assumptions. Tim was kind after the accident, that’s all.’

  He brushed this aside with a sardonic grin, his eyes sluing over her. ‘In your arms, Sue, a man might find it easy to be kind. ’

  “You’re insufferable - and forgetting your place!’ Sheer desperation hurtled the words recklessly from Sue’s lips, as her chin lifted furiously. ‘If you think I enjoyed your kisses then you’re mistaken. Against your brute strength I was forced to submit.’

  She heard him laugh ambiguously above her head and, as before, she knew that she had aroused him, if without lasting effect. ‘I shouldn’t like to call you a little liar, Sue. The next time we get together I must see you’re better pleased.’

  ‘Sometimes I hate you!’ she said clearly.

  ‘A complete waste of emotion.’ His gaze rested darkly on her hot face, her bruised mouth, but when he spoke again his voice was level and somehow remote. ‘I should advise you to wait and see the size of the estate before completing your missive. I intended asking if you would come with me tomorrow. A sort of conducted tour, if you like. ’

  "Only if I have no choice?’

  ‘If you can find a suitable explanation. John is especially keen that you should see around. I shouldn’t wish to inflict my company on anyone, but we have quite an expanse of rather wild territory which it wouldn’t be safe for you to negotiate alone. Besides, you don’t know the boundary lines.’

  ‘It’s taken you quite a while to get around to it,’ she accused sharply, because in a curious way his accusations and indifference hurt. ‘At least Tim Mason knew how to treat me like a - like a lady,’ she finished, for want of a better word.

  ‘Good for you.’ He glanced meaningfully at the note-paper, his voice sarcastic again. ‘Obviously in his case it’s paid off, but don’t you ever get tired of being handled with kid gloves?’

  Again Sue’s face flamed with her temper as her eyes locked with his. Did he really intend piling insult on injury? ‘I suppose in South Africa you had a different approach, but it might not be one that every girl appreciates.’ She longed, with a pent-up resentment, to fling Carlotte at his head along with all her secret suspicions, but suddenly she dared not. Suddenly her anger seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had come, leaving her tired, oddly drained, and she turned away. ‘I think it might be better if we both went home,’ she added simply, and with as much dignity as she could muster.

  He made no response, just shrugged his wide shoulders, his eyes empty of both amusement and anger. Smoothly he folded her letter and passed it to her before bending to switch off the fire and hustle her out of the door. ‘The next time you feel like writing to London,’ he said, 'write to your solicitor instead of Tim, and ask him to look into that lease on your flat.’

  Unavoidably, it seemed, Sue’s tour of Glenroden had to be postponed owing to the state of the weather. During the next few days immediately following her quarrel with Meric rain fell incessantly, while mist shrouded the hills. With autumn scarcely arrived, winter would seem to be following too closely behind, but John assured her that there were many fine days yet to come.

  ‘It’s all just part of Scotland, I suppose,’ he remarked, as they sat in the library one afternoon after tea, watching the rain driving hard against the window. The wind, joining forces, swept through the branches of the old pine forest on the edge of the grounds. Hurtling all before it, it scattered the first fallen leaves untidily across the rough-mown lawns, leaving than lying, fragments of crimson and gold.

  ‘The weather, you mean?’ Lazily Sue glanced slowly away from the window, idly contemplating the blazing yellow logs in the fireplace. It had been one of John’s good days in spite of the monsoon outside, and they had spent the greater part of it on his book. Today they had almost completed the rough notes on a whole chapter dealing with the history of the old Ruthven barracks, scene of the last act of the Jacobite Rising, where after the Battle of Culloden, rebel clansmen, followers of Charles Edward, had waited, only to receive the heartrending message to disperse. Sue’s typing had improved daily, as had her grasp of the whole Rising, which delighted her father, who had confessed that secretly, at one time, he had doubted ever finishing even the first part of his book.

  Now, feeling refreshed and rested again, she contemplated going for a walk. ‘Not far,’ she assured John, as he raised anxious eyebrows towards the streaming window. "I’ll never sleep if I don’t get some air. I’ll take Bruce,’ she ruffled the ears of his dog who lay stretched out at their feet. ‘He’s getting lazy, like me. A good walk will do him good. Maybe,’ she hesitated, avoiding his quiet eyes, ‘I could take Meric’s dog too? He won’t have done much today - the dog, I mean - but sit in the Land-Rover, if he’s been out at all.’

  ‘Well ...’ John nodded, only half convinced but conscious of his daughter’s pale face. ‘Run along, then. Sometimes the weather does ease up after tea. I think you’ll find Rex in the study with Meric. Remember he said he was going to sort out some accounts when he looked in before?’

  Sue nodded, not waiting a second bidding, jumping quickly to her feet. Belatedly she tried not to appear too eager, but was unable to restrain her dancing feet. She had seen very little of Meric since that night at the cottage and, in spite of what had passed between them, she found herself thinking of him continually. It was surprising, both living in the same house as they did, how little she saw of him. He usually dined out and took sandwiches and a flask for lunch, and usually had eaten his breakfast and gone long before she was up. Sometimes, stupidly, she found herself longing for winter with its dark cosy evenings, when surely he must spend more time indoors.

  ‘I’ll go now,’ she smiled lightly, calling to Bruce. ‘If you’ll be all right? Mrs. Lennox has gone, but I’ll be back in plenty of time to get dinner. Meric will be around if you ne
ed anything. ’

  Humming softly to herself, she collected her waterproof from a cupboard in the kitchen, remembering to stoke up the cooker and replace the hob before she went out.

  The oven should be nice and hot when she returned. Jamming a matching hat on her fair, fluffy hair, she left the room, running over the wide hall to knock quickly on the study door as she pushed it open.

  Startled, and not a little embarrassed, she drew back, her breath catching painfully in her throat. Carlotte was there, in Meric’s arms. Sue stopped dead and blinked. True, Meric just held the girl lightly, but he was smiling gently into her face, which was clearly that of a girl who had recently been kissed. His expression, Sue noted indignantly, didn’t change as he lifted his head and saw her standing in the doorway. Antagonism surged through her so that it took an almost physical effort to remain there looking at them, to keep a smile fixed on her own face so that neither the two of them should guess the chaotic state of her feelings.

  ‘I’m taking Bruce out,’ she stammered uncomfortably, forgetting to greet Carlotte, attempting to explain her own intrusion when no one spoke. ‘I thought Rex might like to come with us?’ She could see nothing but the inquiring tilt of Meric’s eyebrows, the sharp glint of humour in his dark eyes.

  It was Carlotte who spoke first, sleek satisfaction glowing over her face as she viewed Sue’s discomfiture. ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ she murmured. ‘I just popped in to see Meric. The dog’s over there.’

  The soft insolence in her voice must have been audible only to Sue, as Meric didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. With a regretful sigh he released the girl, his mouth quirking wryly. ‘Perhaps Miss Frazer guessed I wasn’t getting on with my work, my love. She’s been at it all day, I believe, on her typewriter. A proper little slave driver!’

  Sue, her cheeks hot, ignored his satirical remarks as she called sharply to Rex, almost grateful that Bruce was impatiently pushing her towards the door. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she retorted coolly, returning his dry smile with a blank stare. ‘I must apologize if I interrupted something.’ That it seemed impolite to depart so quickly without offering Carlotte even a cup of tea, Sue did not care. She had no wish to subject herself to an hour of Carlotte’s sharp tongue. Undoubtedly Meric would supply her with a drink - along with other things! As she hastily closed the door her eyes fell on two half-empty glasses. She need not have worried about a lack of hospitality!

  A peculiar rage churned through Sue’s heart as she swiftly ran from the house. As if countless demons were chasing her. Yet, as she slowed down on the rough grass track which led to the forest, she was forced to admit she was being slightly ridiculous. That Meric Findlay shared some sort of relationship with Carlotte seemed obvious. But it was equally obvious that it was entirely his own business.

  Unhappily Sue tried to collect her senses and keep an eye on the two golden Labradors as they ambled off into the trees. It seemed little use denying, here in the primitive forest, that she was attracted to Meric Findlay herself. Almost in love with him, she supposed wretchedly, refusing to admit the futility of that qualifying adverb. The rain stung her face; the wind tore at her clothing, but she scarcely felt it, as the wildness of the elements found an answering reaction in her own heart. Unleashed in her she felt emotions streaming, and knew a wild, uncivilized urge to rush back and accuse him of philandering. Which seemed even more ridiculous than her previous thoughts, and filled her with dismay. This, she supposed, was jealousy, plain and undiluted!

  Impatient with herself, Sue stopped and leaned against a tall fir, striving for some measure of composure, grateful that there was no one to witness her despondency. Meric Findlay had chosen to kiss her as a form of punishment, nothing else. He hadn’t liked her alluding to his status as manager. How he could be sensitive about such a small thing, she didn’t know. She had been here long enough to realize that Glenroden couldn’t be run without him. Her father was really just a figurehead, and she herself could never presume to have any real say in the matter. But, one of these, days, she must insist on knowing Meric’s exact position, and refuse to be sidetracked by one of John’s evasive replies.

  If only, she wished, not for the first time, she had known her father from childhood in the normal way. Then she might have found it easy to persist, to expect utter frankness in most things, to find it possible to rely partly on intuition, born from years of association, to be aware of many things without having to ask. It seemed dreadful still to feel so often a stranger, utterly bereft of the warmth and comfort of a deeper relationship. Feeling as she did there was really only one sensible thing to do. If nothing else it would stop her becoming completely obsessed with Glenroden and its occupants. This, she admitted with utter conviction, was the road to disaster. She knew that!

  To her surprise Carlotte was waiting in the drive when Sue returned. She had stayed out longer than she had intended, in a vain attempt to get rid of her vibrant unrest. As John had predicted, the rain had eased off, if only slightly, and the walk up through the forest was reasonably sheltered and dry. There had even been a glimpse of sunshine which, as it broke through the heavy layer of cloud, had touched the mountain tops with yellow and pink, making a sparkling tracery through branches of spruce and pine. There was something beautiful in the silence of the forest which she especially loved and as usual was loath to leave. John often talked about the forests, how they teemed with a wild life of their own, but so far Sue had seen little sign of the birds and animals he appeared to know so well. The thing was, she supposed, she didn’t know what to look for, or where to find it. Maybe, she thought wistfully, she might find the courage to ask Meric to show her some time.’

  Damp, but feeling refreshed if not enlightened, she did not particularly welcome the sight of Carlotte sitting in her car, and quickly searched her mind for an excuse not to linger. ‘It’s later than I thought,’ she smiled politely. ‘I must hurry or there won’t be any dinner!’ Then, before she could stop herself, she heard herself saying, possibly because of her earlier lack of hospitality, ‘Won’t you stay and have a meal with us? It will only be simple, but you’re very welcome. ’

  As usual Carlotte’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Meric is taking me out to dinner in Perth, so I won’t need to trouble you. He’s picking me up in an hour, so you aren’t the only one in a hurry. Right now he’s been called out for a few minutes by one of the men.’

  Sue’s face felt suddenly stiff. So this was what Carlotte had waited to tell her! She might have known that it wasn’t just a friendly gesture. ‘Don’t let me keep you, then,’ she retorted with a shrug. ‘In any case. Meric seldom dines at home.’

  Again satisfaction gleamed furtively in Carlotte’s eyes, but apparently her reason for lingering had been two-fold. She startled Sue by ignoring her note of dismissal and saying blandly, ‘Meric and I are old friends and often dine together. We have done for years. I’m not quite sure of his exact position with Cousin John, here at Glenroden, but as it’s probable that one day I get the lot, I’m not going to quibble over the balance of things.’

  Blankly Sue stared at her, knowing intuitively that Carlotte’s statement, if one could call it that, was a sort of throwing down the gauntlet. Carlotte obviously felt the time had come to let her know exactly where she stood, along with a subtle warning that it had better not be in her way. But she was also trying to find out if Sue was in possession of the true facts concerning the estate, Sue was certain of this.

  A small spate of anger rushed through Sue’s head. It seemed that Carlotte was prepared to go to any lengths to satisfy her curiosity, to get the information she was after; the information which she insisted was not important. She was quite prepared to use any devious method which she thought might work, Coolly, Sue spoke. ‘So far as I know, Carlotte, Meric Findlay is just the manager, so there isn’t really any mystery. If it’s a wealthy husband you’re after, then I’d advise you to look elsewhere.’

  There was a sharp silence as Sue stoo
d back, rigidly polite, waiting for Carlotte to go. The car engine roared abruptly into life, calming down slightly as Carlotte impatiently slammed the door and wound down the window, easing her foot from the accelerator. A faint flush stained her cheekbones, otherwise she appeared quite calm.

  ‘A word in your ear, too, Miss - er - Fraser,’ she replied. ‘ I never did like people who get in my way. It might pay you to remember! ’

  The letter from London which Sue had waited for came next morning, sooner than she had expected. She read it through quickly, and was just finishing her coffee and toast when Meric thrust his head around the door.

  ‘Not bad news, I hope?’ His glance took in the letter and her thoughtful face.

  Sue lifted her head and looked at him, surprised that he should be around at this time of the morning, her eyes quick to note the fine lines of strain about his firm mouth, a faint weariness in his dark eyes. Undoubtedly he had had a late night! ‘Since you ask,’ she answered, ‘it’s from my solicitor, but not really bad news.’

  He waited, eyebrows raised, as she hesitated before going on somewhat reluctantly, ‘He doesn’t see any difficulty in getting rid of the flat, this sort of accommodation being so much in demand, but he thinks I’ll have to return and deal with the furniture and any personal belongings myself. It’s not so much the furniture,’ she frowned more anxiously than she realized, ‘the whole lot put together

  wouldn’t be worth very much - I mean, on today’s second-hand value. We don’t have any antiques, I’m afraid. But there’s my clothing and books, and various other items which no one could sort out but myself.’

  ‘Of course not.’ He accepted her rather muddled explanation with a brief, concise nod, then stepped into the kitchen to fill a mug of coffee from the still hot pot. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve had some correspondence from London myself this morning, which necessitates my going there too.

  It might be a good idea if you travelled down with me, say in a couple of days’ time,’