The Kilted Stranger

by Margaret Pargeter

  ‘You’re quite, quite horrible!’ Her face scarlet with temper, Sue felt she was stifling beneath the force of her indignation.

  His hands left her so suddenly she almost fell. He spoke with soft violence. ‘So - in your estimation I’m quite without virtue?’

  ‘You could say that!’ she retorted recklessly, her only desire to hurt with primitive intensity as she backed away from him. She swallowed something hard in her throat, moved again as the expression in his eyes changed darkly. She felt herself beginning to shake and knew that for the rest of her life she would remember this moment. There was a peculiar tenseness in the air between them, then no air at all, just an inexorable sensation of disaster as Meric advanced, his arms reaching out, this time not asking for explanations.

  He came straight on, not stopping, taking hold of her, hauling her to him, ignoring her brief, futile struggles with a hard laugh. ‘You must allow the devil to live up to his name,’ he demanded, as with unleashed savageness he pulled her softly sensitive body into his arms.

  Desperately she tried to fight, to escape, but he scornfully stilled her protests with brute strength, one hand hard on her throat, forcing her chin upwards, his lips hurting as they crushed heavily down on her own. Wildly the blood seemed to thunder through her veins, coursing like fire. It wasn’t exactly like the time in the cottage, or on the mountain. He wasn’t playing with her now, but neither was he loving her as his lips held her quivering mouth with a cruelty she had had no idea he possessed. Flame leapt through her body as weakly she tried to resist him, to hang on to one last shred of saneness. But her ineffectual movements he curbed with the strength of his arms, caressing her slight body until she slumped helplessly against the hard muscles of his chest.

  Sensitively, driven by a surge of feeling, her arms lifted, locking behind his neck, her fingers moving unconsciously across his face, losing herself entirely in the violence of emotion which swept through her.

  Only once did he lift his head, and only so his hand could explore the soft curve of her shoulder, linger on the bare, soft skin before sweeping the warm, silken hair back from her neck and burying his lips in the white pulsing hollow of her throat. His hands held her, allowing no protest, inflicting punishment, taking a cruel revenge for her rebelliousness. But, inadvertently, as his lips returned to hers, his love-making aroused a response which she had never known was possible, a shattering sensation of nerves and impulses, dissolving any self-control she might have left. Deliberately, it seemed, he set out to demonstrate how ineffectual was her resistance, what he could do to her if he wished. So that, when he stopped kissing her, her arms pulled his mouth down to hers again, uncaring whether he thought her wanton or not.

  She had no idea how long afterwards she was aware that he lifted her in his arms and walked out of the office, back up the stairs in the moonlight, her soft, fluid body held close against him, her hair floating cloud-like through the cool, scented darkness. As he thrust open the bedroom door she heard him murmur inaudibly against her cheek, his lips soft on her hot skin, his tone speaking of a fast dwindling restraint. Then, so suddenly that the shock of his rejection shattered, he dropped her unmercifully back on to her bed,

  His voice, as it came to her dazed bereft ears, was coolly sardonic, full of total mockery as he moved away. ‘There comes a time, Sue, when the truth has to be forced upon us. A girl like yourself who’s too blind to see otherwise... ’

  There came a sharp click of the door and he was gone, leaving her bruised body and mind to try, with hopeless incompetence, to grasp the implications of what he had said.

  The next day being Sunday, Meric took Carlotte back to Perth after lunch and didn’t return until late evening. On Monday Tim departed for London, and on the Tuesday afternoon John Frazer died. He died quietly in his sleep while having his afternoon rest. In spite of the fact that it wasn’t unexpected, Sue was stunned by the suddenness of his going, when Mrs.

  Lennox broke the news.

  Sue had been out walking, exercising the dogs, trying to rid herself of a measure of heartache. She hadn’t seen Meric all day, nor, she assured herself, did she want to. Not until her mind came to terms with her problem and found a solution. Failing this, she knew she couldn’t remain any longer at Glenroden. If she hadn’t been aware of this before, she knew it now, definitely. To stay could mean utter humiliation. After what had happened in the office she couldn’t trust herself where Meric was concerned. How could she place herself in a position where her precarious self-control might slip any time when he disliked her so strongly?

  Before going to Perth, to the station with Tim to see him off, Carlotte rang. ‘It’s about this temporary job, darling.’ Her voice had been warm and friendly, as if they’d parted on the best of terms. ‘I believe,’ she continued, ‘it’s yours if you want it. You would have to see the Head, of course, and if you’re really keen, it might lead to better things.’

  Sue had called at the school and been accepted - just, she believed, because of availability. With one or two minor details to be complied with, she could start the following week. She could either stay in digs and return to Glenroden each week-end or, if John was not agreeable, she would travel in each day. Either way it would give her the breathing space she so desperately needed.

  But before she could find an opportunity to even tentatively broach the subject, her father wasn’t there any more to confide in. Sue could scarcely believe shock could affect her so greatly. Perhaps it was the culmination of several things, but she seemed to feel much worse this time than when she had lost her mother. Meric and Mrs. Lennox took everything off her hands, seeming to understand her grief without explanation. Carlotte sent a brief note of condolence, but didn’t appear at all.

  ‘She doesn’t care for this sort of thing,’ Mrs. Lennox explained dryly. ‘No doubt she’ll turn up for the funeral!’

  Meric was friendly but completely detached, dealing with everything with sober competence. Always he seemed there to see callers and answer the telephone, unobtrusively in the background, yet proving a veritable tower of strength, his own sense of loss only apparent in the faint lines of strain about his firm mouth, the sombre darkness in the direct gaze of his eyes.

  The next few days, Sue found, passed in a sort of daze. If ever she thought of the future it was only with her teaching post in view. About Glenroden she didn’t think at all. It seemed the natural sequence of things that the estate should go to Meric, although how this should be dealt with she had no idea. To her surprise she could muster up no interest.

  But the day after the funeral she decided to go to Perth, to see John’s solicitor and ask his advice. It had been arranged that he should come to Glenroden the following Monday, but on Monday, Sue knew, she wouldn’t be here. Guiltily she realized Meric should have known this. In fact she had been going to tell him, but hadn’t got round to it. During the week-end she must find the courage to approach him, but before this it seemed imperative that she saw this solicitor in Perth.

  She left on Friday after an early lunch, having managed to get an appointment for two o’clock. To her relief Meric was out. In spite of the difference her journey to Perth seemed strangely reminiscent of that day in summer when she had seen her mother’s solicitor about the letter which had brought her all the way north to Scotland in the first place. She remembered she had lunched beforehand with Tim. Erratically her thoughts roved as she drove swiftly towards the city. Maybe she ought to have let Tim know about her father? It would have been polite, only she had forgotten all about him since he had returned to London. He had simply faded from her mind since she had seen him off at the station. He didn’t seem real any more. Only Meric Findlay occupied her heart and thoughts, but, after the unhappiness of losing John, not even Meric could dissolve the encompassing numbness.

  Parking the car, she wandered along Marshall Place, to find the solicitor eventually some way further on, in a very ancient-looking building of no architectural distinction but which was pr
obably known as a rare relic because of its obvious age. It was hemmed in by warehouses, public houses, and factories, with nothing to recommend it to the eye, but Sue was so relieved to find it she didn’t notice these things. Inside, the dim interior managed to give an air of surprising comfort even though it was a trifle austere, but there was nothing comforting in what the solicitor had to say.

  ‘You know, of course,’ he began, ‘that your father didn’t own Glenroden? Not since he sold it ten years ago. He was indeed fortunate in finding a buyer like Meric Findlay, But there, that’s water under the bridge, long since past.’

  Aghast, Sue stared at him, unduly grateful that in his concentration with some papers he hadn’t seemed to notice her start of surprise. So Meric owned Glenroden, not her father! And this man took it for granted she had known. Despair surged as she wondered desperately why John hadn’t told her. Why he had kept such a thing from her. And, without the humiliation of confessing she knew nothing, how was she to acquire all the facts? She didn’t even feel able to ask why her father had been forced to sell in the first place, as the solicitor would expect her to know this, too.

  The man talked on. It was apparent he had known her father for years, her mother, too, after John married, although, true to his calling, he was studiously discreet.

  ‘You’re very like your grandmother, my dear. She was a fine woman,’ he observed shrewdly, some time later as he personally saw Sue out.

  When the door closed gently behind her, Sue realized that, apart from the one devastating piece of news, she was not much wiser than when she had come in. There had been something, she couldn’t seem to remember the exact details, about a small legacy, but that was all.

  Afterwards she had no clear recollection as to how she spent the remainder of the afternoon. For a while she just wandered. In a small cafe she ordered tea, but could not remember eating it, nor leaving after she had paid the bill. It had long been dark before she found her way back to Glenroden, and it was only as she crossed the ford that she decided to say nothing to Meric of what she knew until she left again on Monday morning. Then it would necessarily have to be brief. A short apology - a word of farewell and thanks before a quick departure. It would all be over in a few minutes, saving a lot of embarrassment. Meric would probably be grateful. Explanations, should he choose to ask or give any, would be almost impossible because of time. At all costs, Sue argued with herself, she must keep everything down to a bare minimum, otherwise, in her present highly emotional state, she might say things which she would later regret.

  This evening Meric would be out when she returned. Thankfully she recalled that he had an appointment which he had said couldn’t be put off. Deliberately she had tarried in Perth until she knew he would be gone, not realizing she was getting cold. As she walked aimlessly around the streets, the air had been chill, and she hadn’t remembered that the heater in the car had developed a fault during summer which hadn’t been put right. Now she was indeed frozen, and longed suddenly for a hot cup of tea.

  Her headlights swept the short drive brightly as she drove up to the front of the house, and she switched them off swiftly so that she might no longer see the old stone facade of a house which could be home to her no more. Quickly she jumped out on to the gravel, leaving the car where it was, and ran with stumbling feet in through the main front entrance.

  With numbed fingers she caught and slammed the door behind her, only then becoming aware that, in spite of all her precautions, Meric was there, striding down the hall towards her, his shabby old working kilt swinging, his hard face grim. He was almost on top of her before she could think of a means of escape.

  ‘Sue!’ His terse exclamation jolted her to a stop as his glance took in her white face, the wide, shadowed eyes, the nervous tremor which ran through her slight figure, oddly attired in a thin summer coat ‘Sue, for God’s sake, where have you been!’ Impatiently he grabbed her shoulders and shook her, the force of his emotions transferring through his hands, so that all her newly made resolutions crumpled and tears started streaming in torrents down her cheeks.’

  ‘Sue!’ For the third time he uttered her name, but this time his voice held more than a hint of desperation. ‘Please tell me what’s wrong, what’s happened?’

  When she made no reply because she couldn’t, he caught her shaking body to him, one hand behind her head, holding her against his shoulder, cradling her in his arms until the force of her pent-up misery exhausted itself. And all the time he kept repeating, ‘Sue darling, I love you.’

  From somewhere, it seemed a great distance, eventually she heard, yet was unable to take in the full implication of what he was saying. Stupidly her mind clung to what she had learnt that afternoon, as helplessly she tried to free her hand, to scrub away her tears with a clenched fist.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered brokenly.

  His body went instantly rigid against her own, and the hand which had been stroking her hair stopped suddenly as he withdrew fractionally. He went on holding her, but his eyes were inscrutable, his mouth tightening grimly as he realized her question was quite divorced from what he had been murmuring. ‘Just where the devil have you been this afternoon?’ he insisted curtly.

  This time there was no possible evasion, yet she hesitated, guilt that she hadn’t trusted Meric sweeping through her, mingling with despair. ‘You didn’t guess?’ she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

  ‘Sue, how could I?’ His eyes lingered with attempted patience, a growing anxiety, on her tear-wet cheeks. 'Mrs. Lennox thought you’d gone to Perth, but when you didn’t come back I began to worry. I’ve been nearly out of my mind!’

  ‘You were going out to dinner.’ There was still a sob in her voice which she couldn’t control.

  ‘It wasn’t important.’ He dismissed his engagement with a terse shrug of his shoulders. ‘You are! I took Mrs. Lennox to the village, expecting to find you home when I returned. But that doesn’t answer my question.’

  There could be no escape. Apprehensively she forced her head up to meet his eyes, ‘I went to see Father’s solicitor in Perth,’ she said,

  'Ferguson?’

  She nodded mutely, feeling faintness. What had she done? Meric’s face swayed strangely, She cried out as his grip tightened, but before she could speak he picked her up, and, with the dampness of her cheek against his jacket, strode with her to the library. With a resounding thud he closed the door.

  Through a haze Sue sank willingly into the strength of his arms, conscious that here was great joy. Yet also she was aware of a growing consternation when she thought of all which must be said, all of which she had hoped to avoid. Vaguely, as Meric held her, sat down with her on the great leather settee, she recalled some whispered words of endearment. He might only have intended bringing comfort? Whatever - he certainly wouldn’t care for her any more when he learned how she had gone behind his back!

  Nervously weak, she forced herself to speak. ‘I was only trying to find out about the estate. I had a horrible feeling that things were not as they should be. Sometimes I thought you were only a domineering manager, but, at others, I had a frightening conviction that Father and I were living on charity.’

  ‘Poor Sue - so mixed up.’ Above her head his warm voice deepened to tenderness. ‘Suppose,’ he suggested firmly, ‘we start at the beginning, you and I? Something we should have done long ago.’

  She looked up, meeting the stern concern in his eyes, and felt the grip of his hands tighten. ‘ This solicitor, he told me you own Glenroden, not Father, but I didn’t ask him anything else. He seemed to take it for granted I should know. I could scarcely tell him I knew nothing. Besides, it didn’t

  seem important any more.’

  His eyes held hers, not condemning but full of regret as he regarded her pinched, colourless face. ‘If only I’d known where you were going, Sue! I could have saved you all this heartache. I intended explaining everything over the weekend. I was only giving you a breathi
ng space which I thought you needed. I was definitely going to tell you before Ferguson came on Monday.’

  ‘I see,’ she said, but she didn’t, and waited silently for him to go on. He still held her and her heart fluttered in her throat, threatening to choke her. She dared not move for fear he left her and, if nothing else, she must have this moment to hold for ever.

  ‘When I bought Glenroden ten years ago,’ he told her, ‘I was a callow youth of twenty-five who didn’t know the first thing about farming in the Highlands. Glenroden was on the market and I bought it.’

  ‘Just like that! ’

  'Just like that, sweet Sue. Haven’t you discovered that when I see something I want I must have it?’ Her pulse jerked again as he punished her small interruption. He went on, ‘The estate wasn’t entailed and John’s brother - your uncle, I suppose - had sold off most of the farms. From what I gather he lived very much beyond his means. There had only been Glenroden left, and this was heavily mortgaged. John fought against losing odds for years. He had no family - he didn’t then know about you. But having to part with Glenroden hurt him a lot.’

  Sue flinched, asking as he paused, ‘You let him stay?’

  His mouth quirked ruefully. ‘Not then from any feeling of benevolence, I’m afraid. To me it made sense. John knew everything there was to know about the running of a Highland estate. I had no knowledge whatsoever. We came to an arrangement.’

  ‘You mean ... he was the manager?’

  Meric shook his head. ‘No, Sue, not that. I liked to manage my own affairs, even then. But he taught me all I had to know and lived with me here at Glenroden. In fact, very few people knew the true position.’

  ‘But surely, when you bought it ...’

  ‘It suited me, Sue, for reasons of my own. Remember I once told you my father died in South Africa? Well, my mother married again and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with my stepfather. At twenty-five one is young enough and often crazy enough for anything. I took my share, pulled out and came here. But I didn’t want my family following on my heels, which, if they’d known about Glenroden, they might have done. My mother is Scottish born too, you see. ’