‘You’re twisting my words, Sue.’ He returned her curious glance in full measure. ‘You shouldn’t go wandering around here on your own, if that’s what you mean. You must be with someone experienced who knows what they’re doing.’
‘Is that a warning?’
‘It could be ...’His lips twitched. ‘I suspect you could be recklessly headstrong beneath that civilized veneer of yours, but just let me tell you this! If I ever catch you up here on your own, I’ll wallop you so hard you won’t sit down for a week.’
And he would, too! Colour came surging, tinting her pale skin, but it wasn’t anger which flared between them. The thought of such punishment brought a strange excitement where it should have aroused fury. There was something in their relationship which she wouldn’t understand. Again she moved away from him. He tended to talk nonsense. She wasn’t as he suspected. Right through she was sensible - Tim always said so. Very rarely did she ever act without thinking. She said primly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had so much as ruffled her feelings,
‘I don’t know why you should feel it necessary to issue such a drastic ultimatum, nor what grounds you have for jumping to such outlandish conclusions regarding my character!’
‘Just bear it in mind. You might not appreciate it, but a few well chosen words never came amiss. They could even save your life.’
‘I think you exaggerate.’ Deliberately, as a form of self defence, she forced a cool note of haughtiness, just to put him in his place. ‘I expect your patience can be too sorely tried by our clients at the hotel. But after all, that’s your job.’
Instantly his eyes smouldered as with the tilt of her chin his mood swung dangerously, and instantly Sue knew she shouldn’t have spoken in this way. It wasn’t the first time she had set out to goad him deliberately by implying that he should realize she was the rightful heir to an estate which he obviously coveted. But today he was putting himself out to see that she enjoyed herself and, if nothing else, she should learn to control her tongue and not antagonize him by way of repayment. John, she felt, would not have approved.
But before she could speak his left hand moved with lightning speed, his fingers taking hold of a thick handful of hair at her nape, jerking her neck painfully, and with each small struggle tightening his grip. ‘Another word of warning,’ he uttered softly as she cried out in pain, not attempting to relax his hold. ‘Look about you, Miss - er -Frazer. Look at the wilderness and take care not to try my temper too far. It’s supposed to be quite something when properly aroused - ask my men. So take heed.’
He growled in her burning ear before thrusting her roughly away, and she crouched beside him shaking, her eyes fixed mutinously on the track ahead. Fervently she wished she could fade out of sight, or be endowed mysteriously with larger proportions. Then she wouldn’t feel so dwarfed and defenceless against his big, powerful body.
He didn’t look at her, and she turned quickly from him so that he wouldn’t see how she tried to steady herself by gripping her hands tightly together. His rough treatment must have taken her wits away as a clever retort eluded her and she could think of nothing to say. The minutes ticked by silently while her chastised mind restored itself with youthful resilience.
The country on either side was getting wilder, and the track they were travelling seemed barely discernible in the heather. Obviously Meric knew where he was going, but they seemed to have come many miles from Glenroden. Perhaps their slow speed gave this impression? Masking her new nervousness with an air of composure, she asked coolly, ‘How much further do we have to go?’
As if aware of her uncertainty and still wishing to punish her a little, he answered smoothly, ‘Not much further, but I hope you’ve recovered sufficiently to walk. If not I’m not prepared to carry you, even supposing you make it an order.’
She looked at her fingers, so that he could only see the sheen of her downbent head. ‘I rather asked for that, didn’t I?’
‘And I didn’t intend to forgive you so easily, Miss Sue, but we’ve the rest of the day to spend together and I’m not much good at sign language.’
The touch of humour from him broke the tension and made her laugh shakily. ‘Well, you usually give as good as is sent,’ she couldn’t resist retorting. ‘All those doubtful “Miss Frazers” have the intended effect, which you know very well.’
What he might have replied was lost as they swung to an abrupt halt inside what looked to Sue like a ring of boulders, a natural car-park carved from the rock. ‘Oh, lord,’ she exclaimed, her eyes round, ‘what a place!’
‘It’s the end of the track, where we leave all vehicles,’ he explained. He looked down into her eyes for a second, searching them for panic. Finding only a lively interest, he nodded approvingly. ‘From now on we use our legs, and the going is tough.’
The going was tough, although Sue would have died rather than complained. Besides, she found she was enjoying herself. Meric walked slightly in front, the rucksack containing their lunch slung on his back, and every now and again he paused to let her catch up. The morning mist still clung to the hillsides, but the mist didn’t deter him, he knew the path well. The view as they climbed higher was beautiful - mountains, rocks, green valleys and sparkling burns. Sue, following closely, could hear the sound of running water, like music on the air. Presently the mist began to evaporate. A breeze sprang up, blowing the melting shreds of it away, and the hills stood out in bold ridges and jagged crests against the sharp blue sky.
An hour’s solid climbing brought them out of the heather on to the bare hillside. It was hot and shadeless, so Sue was glad when they turned the shoulder of the hill and she felt the wind on her face. She felt inordinately grateful when Meric paused long enough to let her get a quick drink from one of the burns. The water tasted cool and fresh and very, very clean.
‘Thirsty?’ He gazed at her consideringly, noting the dark smudge across her wide brow where she had brushed back a tendril of hair with fingers soiled by contact with the rocks. His eyebrow quirked as he put out his own hand to flick off a fragment of sandy soil. ‘At this rate,’ he grinned, ‘you’ll need a wash as well as a drink! ’
‘I don’t mind.’ Refreshed, she looked back at him, returning his smile, her former antagonism forgotten in the exhilaration of the climb. Completely alive, her mind and body possessed by a mood of complete enthrallment with the wild country, she felt happier than she had done for some time. ‘The air is marvellous. I could climb for hours without getting tired,’ she said.
‘Good.’ Sardonically his eyes still lingered on her animated face as if held there by her lively expression. ‘But we have yet some way to go. You aren’t really big or tough enough for this sort of thing. You may be congratulating yourself too soon.’
Trust him to put a damper on things! ‘So you require an Amazon?’ Her eyes sparked, the antagonism creeping back even while she strove to remain objective. It was probably women en masse he referred to, not just one inexperienced female like herself. A man like Meric Findlay would enjoy lumping everyone together. It was up to her to prove him wrong. ‘An Amazon,’ she repeated impatiently, moving beneath his fixed gaze as she waited his reply.
‘I certainly don’t require one, personally. It’s the terrain I’m talking about, not me.’ Tongue in cheek he grinned derisively as he turned away.
Exasperated, she picked up her anorak and followed. How did he always manage to have the last word!
They worked their way across the shoulder of the hill, climbing amongst rocks and scrambling down screes. The wind, which had been blowing on their faces, now swirled behind them, whistling through the narrow clefts with a strange moaning sound.
Sue shuddered, speaking to Meric’s broad back, ‘It’s a bit eerie.’
He glanced around at her, nodding soberly. ‘This is a grim sort of place. But, as you said before, the air is marvellous.’ His dark eyes flicked across the stony ridges, the black boulders, the dark, bare clefts which sunlight
never reached, gently mocking her delicate aversion.
‘Where is the forest - the deer forest, I mean?’ Unable to see even a single tree around or above them, Sue couldn’t resist asking, even if it gave him another opportunity to tease.
Meric laughed as he eased his rifle on his shoulder. ‘Didn’t anyone tell you, Sue, there are no trees in a deer forest?’
Sue bit her lip as she walked on. It seemed she couldn’t win. Up here, she felt and was totally ignorant. Small wonder he laughed at her!
‘Never mind.’ His glance took in her crestfallen face as his hand gently gripped her elbow. ‘A lot of people make the same mistake. And don’t ask me why it’s called a forest. Very few of them ever have many trees.’
Feeling strangely grateful for his few kind words, Sue scrambled on. The track was very steep and stony, but presently it went around an outcrop of rock where it was blocked by a huge fall of stone. Meric had stopped and when she caught him up she saw that he had taken out his binoculars and was scanning the hills.
‘Look, Sue,’ he murmured, putting an arm out to draw her up close, ‘there’s a stag over there. Look over to Ben Cruan - he’s at the entrance to the corrie. If we’re lucky we’ll get nearer, but first take these and see for yourself.’
Sue, too aware of his steadying arm, took the binoculars from him with hands which trembled slightly, focusing the instrument as he instructed on the wilderness in front of her. For a moment she could see nothing but bare hillside, but presently she caught sight of something brown that moved.
‘Is it a stag?’ she asked eagerly, straining to get a clearer view.
‘Yes.’ His arm tightened unconsciously, the line of his jaw taut as his eyes narrowed into the distance. ‘It’s a big one. We’re too far off to see his points, but he’s a big beast.’
‘Can’t we get nearer?’ Impatiently she lowered the glasses, her gaze following his, but unable to see the stag without them.
‘It’s difficult.’ Meric pointed out the steep decline covered with boulders and loose stones, the boggy patch in the bottom which lay between them and their quarry. ‘The wind’s in our favour,’ he added in a low voice. ‘This way it’s blowing in our faces, again so the stag can’t get our scent. Deer, if you didn’t know, have such a keen sense of smell they can scent a man from an incredibly long distance. But we’re certainly going to try. ’
With a quick, concentrating smile he put her from him, just as the warmth from his body was beginning to spread. With a pang Sue realized that his gesture had been purely impersonal. So intent was he on the deer, he had scarcely realized she was there. Hastily she suppressed a sudden longing to stay within the circle of his arm as she dropped carefully behind him down the slope of the hill. As he had said, it was a difficult approach. If they were to dislodge a stone it could start a small avalanche which would warn the stag of their presence, but Sue found it difficult to move soundlessly over the uneven surface.
To her secret delight she did manage remarkably well, her quick, light movements matching Meric’s experience, something which she sensed pleased him although he made no comment. His approval lay only in his brief smile as he turned his head to see how she was progressing. Soon they were down the slope, over the swampy patch at the bottom and climbing up the mountainside.
For a while they lost sight of the stag, but Meric told her he had marked the spot where he grazed. It was very still. In their present position they were sheltered, and nothing moved, not even a blade of grass. Sue, used as she was to city streets, had never known such silence. Then they were creeping slowly, mostly on their hands and knees, until eventually they were on a rocky ridge looking down into a narrow valley. A small burn ran down the middle of the valley, twisting amongst the stones, but there was no sign of the stag.
‘He’s moved to the upper part of the valley,’ Meric whispered in her ear. ‘Of that
I’m certain. I know the corrie well and the grass at the top is sweet. He’ll be feeding. ’ ‘Are you sure?’ Sue crawled up level with him, glancing anxiously sideways into his face. Unlike her own, his looked cool. Obviously he was hard, and in tip-top physical condition, as after the hard climb his breathing had scarcely altered. Feeling the hot perspiration on her brow, Sue glanced at him again, her eyes tinged with envy.
He was gazing straight across the incline and nodded his head to her question. ‘Yes. There’s a passage between the burn and the mountainside, before the valley widens. Once past the burn the path is blocked by fallen rock, but we can climb on to a ridge and view him from above. Not a good angle to shoot him from, but then I’m not shooting today. ’
They climbed down to the burn. It took several minutes, and as they drew nearer, Sue could see the passage between the burn and the cliff. She held her breath with excitement Never before could she remember feeling like this, keyed up and brimming over with expectancy. And not a little, she acknowledged, had these feelings to do with the man beside her.
‘Now we go up the cliff, Meric said softly, beckoning to Sue to follow closely.
The rock was warm with the sun and the crevices were filled with grass and little pools of water. On some parts it was slippery and she didn’t reject Meric’s helping hand, but clung to it tightly, pulling herself up. Hot from exertion and quite without breath, she was thankful when they reached the top. Her hair tumbled in disorder about her face, and looking back she could see the woolly hat she had been wearing hooked on the branch of a stunted tree. She would collect it on the way down.
Meric drew her nearer, making way for her in a niche beside him. From their perch half-way up the mountain they could now see the top of the valley. It was small, filled with boulders, which Sue supposed had fallen from the higher crags. Between the boulders the grass looked fresh and green, surprising for the time of year. But it wasn’t the grass which caught and held Sue’s attention. It was the animal which grazed there completely unaware of the two watching strangers. It was a beautiful, brown-coloured, antlered stag.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In her excitement Sue clutched Meric’s arm, only just remembering to keep her voice down. ‘What a beautiful beast!’ she gasped, her eyes widening with admiration and something like awe. It was the first time in her life she had ever seen a stag apart from films and photographs, and she watched spellbound from her high perch on the. rock. The animal was about a hundred yards away, grazing towards them head on, and even from that distance, she thought she could count ten points to his antlers.
She was right - as Meric confirmed. ‘It’s not a Royal stag. A Royal has twelve points to its antlers. But this one is very nice, about nine years old, I should think. You won’t see anything much better.’
To let her have a better view he spread out his legs and settled his rifle against a piece of old turf. Sue lay down beside him, her eyes fixed on the corrie. The stag went on grazing. It was so still and sheltered in the corrie that she could hear the noise of the creature’s hoof against the stones. He was coming nearer very slowly, seeking out the tender young grass between the boulders, still unaware of their presence.
‘There may be more,’ Meric whispered, easing himself more comfortably in the confined space. He was so near that glancing at him Sue saw herself reflected momentarily in the dark depth of his eyes. For a minute she was afraid to move or speak, to do anything to disturb her feelings of unreality. The length of his strongly muscled leg was pressed against her own, and when he spoke his breath came warm on her cheek. She stirred as a flicker of fire shot through her, distracting her attention from the animal in front of them.
Taking a deep breath, she said quickly, ‘I suppose the stags look more or less alike? Like
sheep.’
He smiled at that. ‘Don’t make a remark like that near the shepherd - or our head keeper! He knows most of the stags by sight. We try to collect their horns and mark their development. They cast their horns every year, you see, and grow new ones. Once Donald and I had a set of horns from the same beas
t three years running. It was about eight years old. The horns showed a distinct improvement, although the number of points remained the same.’
Somehow it warmed Sue’s heart to know that Meric wasn’t just interested in the shooting, yet she couldn’t stop herself asking, a hint of censoriousness in her voice, ‘How do you choose which stags to kill?’
He grinned again, without rancour. ‘Usually those with deformed horns, bad points. These are usually shot as they’re not good to breed from. People sometimes refer to them as switches. Then there’s another which we call a hummel - a beast without horns at all. Just hard, bony knobs where the horns should be, but he’s usually big and heavy. All the same, we don’t like the look of him.’
‘I thought it was always a Royal stag that people went after?’
‘Not always,’ Meric shook his head. ‘We don’t shoot very many of those, but a chap the other day got one, a perfect twelve-pointer, well worth mounting. It’s gone to the taxidermist in Dundee. But there again, the guests from the hotel don’t always want to shoot. Like you, many of them just want to look and learn.’
Sue’s eyes wavered and returned to the stag in the corrie. ‘It wasn’t until we came out,’ she said, ‘that I knew I was to be given the opportunity, Mr. Findlay.’
‘Well, it’s all part of the service,’ he mocked smoothly. The tone of his voice aroused resentment, and she turned sharply, not thinking, and dislodged a small stone. The sound of it falling was barely audible to the human ear, yet the stag below them stopped
suddenly and raised its head,
listening. His shining brown body turned sideways as he sniffed the air. Then before they could move he gave one bound towards the burn, springing across it with one incredible leap to disappear in seconds around the bottom of the valley. The swiftness of his leaving was almost unbelievable, and left Sue gasping.
The Kilted Stranger Page 13