While she had seen little of Meric in London, in retrospect his rigorous supervision of her affairs was obvious. His tight schedule, his insistence that every aspect of her life in Kensington be neatly packaged, tied up and disposed of in as short as possible time, had been achieved almost it might seem by remote control. Never once had it occurred to her to quarrel with his authority, or to question the fact that he allowed her little leeway of her own. Having always guarded her independence, Sue knew a moment of disquiet, a sneaking premonition that unless she was careful there could be worse to come.
Yet, in spite of an uneasy apprehension, she sighed, murmuring impulsively, ‘It’s good to be home. Scotland is all I ever dreamed it would be. In two days I’ve missed it.’
His head half-turned, ‘Dreams,’ he declared, ‘can be dangerous things.’
Hadn’t things worked out as he’d planned in London - in his life? ‘Do you resent me coming back with you like this?’ she asked.
One eyebrow rose. ‘Why should I? You have every right,’ he declared. ‘And your father needs you.’
‘But you don’t,’ she felt like adding, only it would seem an odd question for her to ask. Her mind wandered unhappily to the occasions he had made love to her, then on tenaciously to his friendship with Carlotte. Was it possible he was just playing with them both until he found out who was to inherit Glenroden? Did he hope to be able to choose? John could live for years, but then again he might not. Frightened by her own thoughts, Sue tried hot to look into the future. If she had never loved her mother very deeply she still missed her, and in finding her father it seemed she might just as suddenly lose him too. What was the use of loving people if they could be snatched away without warning to leave only an aching void? Even beginning to care for Meric Findlay could only be inviting heartache.
Swiftly as they went down Princes Street she glanced at him, the knowledge of her own foolishness bringing her sharply upright. She was letting a too vivid imagination play tricks! Her eyes turned impatiently to gaze at the fine shops, the cosmopolitan crowds thronging the pavements. Why should she allow a few kisses, the crazy reactions of her impressionable heart, to cause her such torment? Meric must look elsewhere for amusement, and she herself must learn to acquire a thicker skin than the one she had now. ‘The capital has a highly dramatic appearance, don’t you think?’ Meric glanced at her lightly as they left the car, apparently not at all disturbed by her sudden silence.
Sue nodded as she looked up and her eager gaze fell on the silhouette of the thousand-year-old Castle on its rock and the Old Town stretched against the windy October sky. Across the gardens of Princes Street it was an eye-catching sight.
‘The next time we can spare you for a couple of days, you can spend them here and have a good look around.’ With a slight smile Meric guided her through the slow moving traffic towards a hotel, his hand firm beneath her elbow. ‘It seems a shame we can’t stay longer this afternoon, but I’m afraid we’d better push on.’
The drive home was accomplished in record time, or so it seemed to Sue, as she remembered her first lone journey in August. For the main part Meric appeared preoccupied and she found herself dozing off at regular intervals, her tired body subduing her restless mind. It wasn’t until they were nearly there that she roused herself sufficiently to ask when Carlotte would be returning. She had tried to ask on the plane, but it was only now, by great effort, she found herself able to phrase the necessary sentence. ‘Father enjoys her visits, I think,’ she tacked on carefully.
He answered shortly, leaving her strangely unsatisfied, ‘She didn’t say, and I’m afraid I forgot to ask. No doubt you’ll be able to survive without her for a few days.’
She said, ‘You don’t need to be sarcastic. I just thought you would think it funny that I hadn’t asked!’
He replied quietly, ‘Forget it. It didn’t cross my mind. Usually she doesn’t stay away for any length of time. ’
His broad shoulders lifted with seeming indifference as he glanced at her sideways. They were silent, aware of each other, but neither willing to say anything more. Sue turned her head away, deploring the tension between them, yet unable to understand it. Her eyes turned towards the moors, looking out through the window to where they lay drenched and bleak from the recent rains. The solitude seemed to reach out and touch her, bringing comfort in the gathering darkness. It was of little use denying that Meric Findlay didn’t want her, nor did Carlotte Craig. But Glenroden was fast becoming home to her and no matter what the opposition she intended to stay..
Now that the days were getting shorter, Mrs. Lennox decided she would live in until spring. Doctor McRoberts was still uneasy about John, who seemed to grow frailer each day, and Sue was daily more grateful that the woman was prepared to help look after him. During winter the road between Glenroden and the village was often impassable when the river was in flood and, as Mrs. Lennox pointed out, she could be marooned in the village for days.
Before, she could come, however, she had various things to see to, and Sue cooperated by doing more around the house as well as continuing to help John with his book.
‘Sometimes, dear, I wonder who’s writing it, you or him,’ Mrs. Lennox smiled. ‘I don’t think he would ever have managed it without you.’
‘It keeps my mind occupied, and off other things,’ Sue returned the friendly smile enigmatically. In spite of Mrs. Lennox’s inquiring look she didn’t explain that ‘other things’ mostly constituted Meric Findlay.
Clearly, for all her secret opinion that he was a ruthless adventurer, intent on furthering his own interests, Meric continued to plague her heart. As well as contempt he aroused other emotions which she would rather be without. Whenever she saw him she remembered guiltily that in London she had been on the point of asking her solicitor if he could be properly investigated without arousing suspicion. Yet somehow she had found herself unable to parade all her doubts and fears before the detached legal mind of the law. In the solicitor’s office it had suddenly seemed impertinent even to think of broaching the subject, but once back at Glenroden she reproached herself for being a fool. The opportunity might not come again. If only she had had some idea what such a procedure would involve! Cowardly, she had shrunk from the consequences of wrongly placed judgment. The chance that Meric might be quite innocent of all she suspected, apart from a more or less normal inclination to feather one’s own nest. And if she were to mortally offend him without reasonable justification he might leave. Which, she told herself unhappily, would only leave her father in dire straits, and do no one any good.
Time passed. Meric still took out shooting parties, but with the end of October in sight the caravan park was to close for the season. Or so Carlotte said when she returned from London.
‘Next year,’ Carlotte said smoothly, ‘we intend to develop another few acres beside the loch. Subject to planning permission, of course. And, if we get it, I might even be prepared to spend most of the summer here at Glenroden. Meric seems to think I’m indispensable. You probably won’t be here, but I thought you might like to know.’
Sue could have retorted that she would rather not have known, that she found the information curiously unpalatable. But there was no denying that, whatever happened, she might not be here. So she remained silent, listening politely as Carlotte chattered on, trying to give the impression that she was completely indifferent as to what happened next year or any time in this part of the world.
According to Carlotte, Meric was taking her out again to dinner, and it added to Sue’s increasing bitterness that he had never once asked her. In fact, if anything, he seemed to make a point of keeping out of her way. When, on departing, Carlotte mentioned that she thought a young teacher would be needed in a small school near where she lived, after Christmas, Sue jumped at the idea.
‘Let me know as soon as you hear anything definite,’ she said, as she waved Carlotte good-bye.
One day towards the end of the month, Meric actually took her aroun
d the estate. He surprised her one evening by asking if she would go, and Sue, disregarding her half formed intention to refuse, accepted with alacrity.
She was ready soon after breakfast on a fine, if windy October morning. Meric had told her to dress warmly, without regard for fashion as the going would be rough, and the weather unpredictable.
‘Don’t come dressed in a skirt and thin blouse,’ he had said. ‘Or I’ll send you back to put on something different. ’
His slightly threatening tone had been enough to send Sue searching through her wardrobe for a pair of thick slacks, and a heavy sweater which she wore on top of her shirt. She hoped he would consider these suitable.
Mrs. Lennox had also contributed her share towards making their day a success by packing a light rucksack with sandwiches and flasks which she gave to Sue as she came downstairs. ‘Enjoy yourself,’ she said kindly.
Sue smiled as she ran out to where Meric was waiting. He had the Range-Rover at the door and as she climbed in beside him he released the brake impatiently and they were away. Even now Sue could scarcely believe it.
He glanced at her sideways as they went down the drive. ‘You’re looking very bright this morning,’ he grinned, his impatience forgotten.
She flushed, her smile deepening to laughter as she felt his eyes slide over her miscellaneous attire, right down to her thick stockings and nailed boots. ‘You can’t complain that I haven’t followed your instructions to the letter. I’m prepared for anything, to quote your exact words.’
‘Hum ... well,’ his eyes still lingered speculatively, ‘maybe that wasn’t altogether what I had in mind, but as we’re going stalking lighter clothing wouldn’t do.’
‘Stalking?’ She stared, her gaze jerking away from the scenery to his dark face. ‘You mean - really stalking, after stags and deers?’
He laughed again at that, his eyes glinting as momentarily they met her own. ‘Deer is the plural, nitwit, as you should know.’
‘Clever Dick!’ she laughed back, greatly daring. ‘We had a name for such as you at school.’
‘I’ve known women call me nicer names than that,’ he taunted with matching humour. ‘My name happens to be Meric. Once or twice I’ve heard you use it yourself.’
Sue’s gaze fled back to the distant mountains. She took a deep breath. ‘You’re very nice when you’re friendly,’ she said primly, ‘but there are times when only Mr. Findlay will do.’
His mouth quirked at the faint note of indignation. He remarked with a touch of mischief, ‘Well, for my sins, it’s nice to know I arouse positive reactions on occasion. Would you not be prepared to agree with me, sweet Sue?’
She would ... but wild horses couldn’t have dragged from her so much as a nod. Nor a plea that he wouldn’t refer to her as sweet Sue when he didn’t mean it. Instead, she suggested tartly, ‘Suppose we stick to the deer?’
‘Oh, yes, the deer.’ His smile mocked. ‘Women are past masters of evasion - if that makes sense. One thing you might learn one day, Sue. You can’t run for ever. But for the moment, as you say, we’ll stick to the deer.’
‘Well?’ Her colour heightened, her rather tense query prompted by a sudden jerking of her heart.
He replied smoothly as he swung the large vehicle out on to the major road, ‘I hope to show you a stag, several perhaps, and you might see some hinds.’
Intrigued, Sue forgot to be defensive, and turned to him eagerly, her face alight. ‘Will we see them on Glenroden? I mean,’ she went on cautiously, ‘right now I don’t know much about Glenroden. Is it a large property?’
Nervously she clutched the edge of her seat, her hands slightly damp with apprehension, hating to admit how little she knew, yet willing to subdue her pride if only to find out more about a place she was beginning to love.
Meric, however, didn’t seem at all surprised by what she asked. ‘Yes, to both questions,’ he said. ‘Glenroden is big by some standards, but don’t confuse size with profitability. We have a deer forest, some grouse moors, a loch which you’ve seen. Then lower down we have pine woods, lower hills with sheep, and a few rather poor fields of cereals and root crops. These last fields are improving with care, but the ground remains very stony.’
She found herself frowning, not wholly convinced. There seemed an awful lot of it. ‘You say it isn’t profitable. Why not? Surely, considering the size, it ought to be?’
For once he must have thought her curiosity pertinent as he appeared quite willing to explain. ‘You don’t make an awful lot of money on this sort of property. If you own a deer forest you must look after it properly, but it costs quite a lot of money and doesn’t pay. Ours does now, now that we have an agreement with the hotel. Some owners let theirs for a season, but you never know what people will do. Sometimes it’s all right, but it can be a disaster. This way, the way we do it, the head keeper and myself supervise everything. ’
‘You mean you let people kill the deer?’
‘This way we cull them.’
‘By shooting them? That sounds cruel.’ As soon as she spoke she knew Carlotte wouldn’t have made such a remark.
Meric said, smiling faintly, ‘A certain number must be killed every year to prevent the herd increasing.’
Which didn’t make sense. Not to Sue, to whom a deer forest was about as familiar as the wilds of Siberia. She considered the information doubtfully. About them there lay plenty of territory, high ground, low ground, miles and miles of it, stretching as far as the eye could see, and not a creature in sight. Surely enough space for hundreds of deer.
‘Why can’t you let the herd increase?’ she asked, bewildered, shifting a little on her seat.
‘Because,’ he explained quietly, ‘there’s only a limited food supply. Our deer forest is high and wild. This means that the herd must be kept down to certain numbers, otherwise the beasts would starve before the grass begins to grow in the spring.’
‘I see ...’ Considering the bareness of the higher slopes, this seemed logical. Far more logical than the fact that she had been here several weeks and knew so little. Certainly she had never stopped to wonder what all these wild creatures lived on.
They had reached the river by this time, where it ran over the road on its way to the loch. Once across the ford Meric turned right, up a hard but narrow track, running against the river but alongside it, following its rocky bed up through a wood of birch trees, clinging tightly to its twisting path. ‘Hang on!’ he shouted, as the Range-Rover lurched through a bad dip, throwing Sue against him, hard against his shoulder.
He grinned, and threw an arm around her, steadying her briefly until she regained her balance, after which he needed two hands to control the spinning wheels.
Sue jerked upright and away from him, shrinking into her corner, to obliterate the feel of his hard muscles, the steely grip of his arm. Rather than think about it she hustled her thoughts back to the deer. ‘Can’t you feed them artificially,’ she asked, ‘like farmers feed cattle?’
He didn’t answer immediately, not until the line of his jaw relaxed to its usual sardonic angle, and his eyes recovered their indifferent dryness. ‘Suppose you start at the beginning,’ he said, as the track smoothed out and his grip on the wheel eased slightly. ‘A deer forest looks enormous on a map, but there are only certain places where there’s food, so you can only support a certain number of deer. We know the exact number of deer, that is stags and hinds, which can live comfortably here.’
‘So you don’t need to feed them?’
‘Oh yes. We feed rock salt, beans and potatoes, early in the morning. But it’s only in a very hard winter that we might do this. It costs money, and we couldn’t do it every year if we didn’t have some sort of recompense. Usually the deer forage very well for themselves.’
‘You say usually?’ Sue’s voice quickened with interest.
He nodded, his eyes warmer on her eager face. ‘It’s the long, hard winter which causes the trouble. The winter when snow lies deep in the corries. C
orries, if you don’t know, are places where the grass grows, the places where the stags find their food. If the snow lies deep it takes a long time to melt. This is the dangerous time. Once, in such a year, John and I found deer dying of starvation, so weak they couldn’t run away, too weak to move when eagles attacked them.’
Sue’s breath caught. ‘What did you do?’
‘Do? We had to shoot them. Put them out of their misery.’
Tightly she closed her eyes, refusing to allow even mental vision. ‘Poor things ... Why don’t you always feed them?’
‘Well, as I said, or rather implied, it would be too expensive. And if you fed them all the time they would become tame, and there’d be no stalking, and then the forest would get overcrowded.’
‘Would that be a bad thing?’ Sue’s frown returned. ‘What would happen if it did?’ ‘Well, use your imagination, girl. It stands to reason. The deer would come down from the hills, eat the farmers’ crops, and the farmers would shoot them. So you see we must cull them. They must be shot by people who know what they’re doing. A clean shot is an easy death compared with starvation or bad wounds from a shotgun instead of a rifle.’
The tone of Meric’s voice hinted that his patience was not unlimited, but his eyes were still kind, giving her courage to say tritely, ‘I shouldn’t like to shoot a stag myself, even supposing I knew how to go about it.’
‘Fair enough,’ his eyes mocked slightly her nervous tremor, ‘but you can get quite a lot of fun out of stalking, without shooting or knowing a great deal about it.’
Sue sighed, lapsing momentarily into silence, watching the sun rise higher above the mountains, its beams creeping down the hillside into the valley. It was going to be a fine day. She turned her head to look at him in the closeness of the car. ‘You say that any novice can enjoy this sort of thing?’ Her hand flicked towards the wildness about them.
The Kilted Stranger Page 12