The House on the Shore

by Victoria Howard

  “No, but I’d like it better if I didn’t make you nervous.”

  Anna lost her grip on a plate. It clattered onto the table. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You see what just happened. I do something that shakes you up.”

  “You do not!”

  “I do, and I’d like you to feel more comfortable. Just think of me as a neighbour.”

  Comfortable? Slippers are comfortable, thought Anna. Being around this man was anything but. As casually as she could manage, she asked, “Why?”

  “Because I’ll be stuck here for a while. Accept it. It can’t hurt us to become friends.”

  She put the salad bowl on the table. “I suppose not.”

  “How about if we start over?” He took his place at the table and poured her a glass of wine.

  Anna scooped up a forkful of fish and thought about her answer. Friendship? She could handle that, couldn’t she? She was an adult, after all. Men and women worked together all the time; being neighbourly was no different. It wasn’t as if he was asking her to leap into bed with him. Yet she felt uneasy, and found his presence in the small room disturbing. There was no denying she was attracted to him, but it went deeper. Every time he looked at her she felt a frisson of desire. Dropping her guard and trusting this man would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

  “I’ll even take you sailing,” he offered, turning his smile up a notch. “Please don’t say no.”

  “There’s no need for bribery.”

  “But it’s working, isn’t it?” He let out a peal of laughter.

  In spite of her doubts, Anna chuckled and clinked her glass against his. “Here’s to friendship.”

  “Good. Now that we’ve drawn a truce, what do you want to talk about?”

  She smiled. “Is this your first visit to Scotland?”

  “Yeah. And I like what I’ve seen of it.” He gave her a killer smile, leaving her in no doubt that he wasn’t only referring to the scenery.

  Anna swallowed the last of her wine.

  “Can I refill your glass?”

  She shook her head. “No thanks. I have to be up early in the morning. What happens when the part for the autopilot arrives? Will you stay a little longer or sail home?”

  “I’m not sure. I’d like to see more of your country, but I guess I should head back to Boston. I’ve been away for nearly two months. For a working artist, that’s half a lifetime.”

  “And there’s your lady friend. You must miss her, of course.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Now, Anna. I told you it’s not serious. Actually, I thought it was going to be serious, but I was wrong. I’m not good at judging those kind of things.”

  “Things being?”

  “Relationships.”

  “I see.” She looked down at her plate. “There’s a lot more to Scotland, than Loch Hourn. You could always see about hiring a car from the garage in the village and do some exploring. Perthshire is very beautiful, then there’s Edinburgh, and of course, every tourist has to see Loch Ness.”

  “I might do that if I have to wait any longer for the part.” He rose from his chair. “Well, well, will you look at the time? As you have to get up early, I’d better say goodnight.”

  “Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay for coffee.”

  “Thanks, but no. I need to check a few things before I turn in.” He walked into the hallway and paused by the door. “Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed it.”

  “I should be thanking you. You cooked it.”

  “No problem. It was worth it for the company.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment. Then Luke caught her hands, backed her against the wall, and kissed her hard. Her hands went to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, they locked round his neck. A moan escaped her lips.

  He let her go and stepped back. “For the first time since I met you,” he said, “I’m not going to apologize.”

  By the time Anna regained her breath, he was out the door, whistling into the night.

  Chapter Ten

  A fine mist hung in the air as Anna drove the twelve miles down the glen to the village. It was the evening of the tenant’s meeting, and although Anna hadn’t been invited, she had decided to attend. Any plans Alistair had for the estate could easily affect her.

  The car park adjacent to the village hall was packed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, including, she noted, a tractor. Rather than struggle to find a space, she left her Land Rover outside Mrs. McCloud’s shop and walked the short distance to the hall.

  Leaving her umbrella in the porch, she pushed open the huge wooden door, and slipped inside. About seventy people were crowded into the low-raftered building. Any gathering in the glen was always well attended as it was a change from routine, and every crofter and tenant made the most of it.

  Just inside the door, a group of older women were busily handing out cups of tea and biscuits. Anna took the proffered cup, but declined the shortbread biscuit. Every chair was taken, and rather than look for Morag, who she knew would be sat at the front somewhere near the stage, she leaned against the rear wall for support. At least she could slip away unnoticed if the meeting became too heated or protracted.

  Alistair Grant sat at a table in the centre of the stage. Dressed in tweeds, check shirt and yellow waistcoat, he looked very much the part of laird. A thin, bald headed man, whom Anna did not recognize, sat on his left. Reverend Cameron, the local minister, sat on his right.

  The sound of voices filled the air as people settled themselves in their seats. Anna could hear snatches of conversation, but as some of it was in Gaelic, she could only guess at what was being said.

  The bald man stood, banged his fist on the table, and called the meeting to order. “Quiet! Quiet, please!” he shouted. “Let the Laird speak!”

  A hush went round the room.

  Alistair cleared his throat and got to his feet. “Thank you for coming here this evening, ladies and gentlemen. I shall try to be brief. As you know, my father is no longer able to perform his duties, and as his only son that task now falls to me. Sadly, as a result of his illness, management of the estate has not been what it should be. I plan to rectify that.”

  “Aye, the old Laird was a good man,” shouted MacIver, the estate carpenter.

  “He was,” added Mrs. McCloud, adjusting her hat. “We’ll not see his like again!”

  Alistair nodded in acknowledgement. “In the past, Killilan Estate was one of, if not the finest, sporting estate on the west coast of Scotland. Under my management it will become so again. However, there will need to be changes. I’ve already spoken to Ewan about opening the hotel all year round. I plan to turn the dowager house into an adventure centre, offering among other things, mountaineering holidays for school children.”

  “Is that so?” called a sour voice from the back of the hall. “Ye’ll get all the money and we’ll get all the hooligans. None of us will be safe in our beds!”

  “Hush your noise, Malcolm Fraser. You can talk! Weren’t your twins a right pair of scallywags, always causing havoc in the village when they were young? Why, I boxed their ears more than once.”

  “Aye, that you did Morag McInnes, and I’m grateful to you. No doubt the experience you gained will stand you in good stead when the Laird opens his doors to these delinquents!”

  The gathered throng erupted into laughter. Alistair held up his hand for silence.

  “I shall also be working closely with the Highland Council to see what businesses we can attract to the area. There are grants available from both the English Government and European Union that will assist us in making this village the thriving community it once was. I assure you these changes will benefit you all.” He waved a bunch of papers in the air.

  “What businesses?” Mrs. McCloud shouted. “I don’t want some foreigner coming in and stealing my trade and profit. There’s no room for another shop, I’m telling you.”

  Muted protestations from all around the hall rose to a small
uproar.

  Alistair thought quickly. “I wasn’t talking about another shop, Mrs. McCloud. I was thinking in terms of something more enterprising and productive.”

  Morag got to her feet. “Such as what, Mr. Alistair?”

  “Well, there’s forestry. In the past, my father limited the amount of land put into forestry. That could be extended. Timber products, such as wood floors, are in great demand. I don’t see why the estate couldn’t produce these. The women could start a weaving enterprise, and we could develop the loch…for…for…salmon farming. Many communities such as ours have profitable salmon farms.”

  A ruddy-faced young man Anna recognized by sight, but not by name, leapt up in protest.

  “That’s as may be. The market is awash with farmed salmon, and then there’s the problem with sea lice infestation. The papers are full of articles about farms having to destroy their stock. Besides, fish farms only employ two or three men at most. What about the rest of us?”

  “Hear, hear!” yelled MacIver.

  Anna was about to point out that the estate didn’t own the loch or the land around it when Charles Downie, one of the tenant sheep farmers, spoke.

  “Get away with you, man. We don’t want folk coming in and spoiling the glen. Think of all the extra traffic through the village. Who would pay to improve the road? Not the estate, that’s for sure. That would be the responsibility of the local council, which would mean higher taxes for us all. It’s not fair Mr. Alistair, and we want none of your grand plans. Go back to France and let us be!”

  Angus Murray, the owner of the garage, stood, and pointed at the man standing next to Anna. “Hold your tongue man! It will be your turn to speak once the Laird has finished telling us his plans. Have the grace to listen to what he says.”

  A murmur of voices went round the hall. Alistair banged his hand on the table.

  “If I may be allowed to continue,” he shouted above the noise. “I also plan to increase the number of shooting parties on the estate, both for stags and game birds. That will not only mean more trade for the hotel, it will also bring further employment opportunities for the rest of you, at least during the shooting season. I’ve only mentioned a few of the possibilities, all of which will improve your standard of living and bring new life into the glen.”

  Anna felt a reluctant approval for Alistair. His voice had depth and authority. He was calm, articulate, but more importantly, was prepared to dispel his tenant’s reservations. She thought about leaving, but he started speaking once more.

  “However, unless the estate can be put back into profit, I’ll have no choice but to make some of my employees redundant, and possibly consider selling some of the cottages. The estate will not, and cannot afford to continue as it did under my father’s control.” He sat down and took a sip of water from the glass in front of him.

  Old Dougal stood and took off his cap. “With respect, Mr. Alistair, do I understand you to say that the estate has financial difficulties? If so, how to you propose to pay for all these changes?”

  Alistair flinched. “The financial stability of the estate has nothing to do with my plans. I am, however, proposing a rent increase of ten per cent to take effect immediately.”

  The room erupted. Mrs. McPherson looked ready to faint. Old Dougal fanned her with his cap.

  “But our rents were increased only six months ago,” a grudging voice barked from the middle of the room.

  “Your father would not be doing that,” shouted Fraser. “He’d find another way.”

  “The only person who benefits from these wild plans, is you Alistair Grant! Not us!” Morag screamed, pointing an accusing finger.

  The Reverend Cameron stood. “Quiet, please. Mr. Alistair, would you care to respond to your tenant’s concerns?”

  Alistair ran a hand through his hair. “The truth of the matter is that my father let things slip. The nature of his illness is such, that most the time he is unaware of what he is doing. I know for a fact that until six months ago, there had been no rent increase for five years. I’m assured by my factor,” Alistair nodded to the little man on his right, “that the new rent proposed for the crofts and cottages is still well below the market value.”

  “Aye, but we only have your word for that!” they shouted as one.

  Alistair held up both his hands. He shouted over the protests. “If…if you are unhappy with the increases, there is provision in your leases for arbitration. But be warned, if you decided to invoke that clause, and the rent on your property is subsequently found to be less than it should be, then the estate not only has the right to charge the correct amount, but also claim any costs incurred in the arbitration hearing.”

  “Well, I’ll no pay you anymore,” a woman near the front yelled.

  Alistair stared at the woman. “Mrs. Stewart, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, grey curls bouncing in anger. “Aye. I’ve lived in the village since you were in your pram, and like many other folk here tonight, I’ve only my pension to live on since my man died. Hamish worked for your family all his life. Your father and his father before him always looked after the folk who served them, unlike you, you…upstart…with your extravagant ways and expensive tastes!”

  Alistair rested his hands on the table and glared at the woman. “That’s not quite true, is it, Mrs. Stewart? You’re forgetting the estate provides you with all your winter fuel free of charge.”

  “A few loads of logs and a bag of peat! How generous you are, Alistair Grant! I’m telling you, if you put the rent up again, your tenants will not stand for it. They will move elsewhere. The village will become deserted like others in the Highlands. Then what will you do with your fancy ideas?”

  Exasperated, Alistair sat down. His factor shouted over the heads of the villagers in an attempt to regain control, but it was pointless. Annoyed that the meeting had fallen into bedlam, Alistair stood. Accompanied by his factor, he climbed down off the stage, and left the hall.

  Anna slipped out of the door. She’d heard enough. The villagers would stay and argue for hours. Alistair might think he could develop the estate, but without considerable aid and the approval of the local council, his plans were likely nothing more than empty dreams.

  She was about to unlock the Land Rover when someone took her arm and spun her round.

  “Oh, Alistair, you surprised me.”

  “I thought I saw you at the meeting,” he said, smiling.

  Her cheeks burned. “I know I’m not a tenant, but I didn’t think you would object if I came along, seeing as Tigh na Cladach land shares a boundary with your land. Any plans you have might affect me.”

  “Why should I object? You’re as much a part of this community as everyone else. Why don’t you come across to the hotel and have a drink with me, and you can tell me how you thought the meeting went.”

  She hesitated. “I should be getting back, but…all right. Just a quick one as I’m driving.”

  Alistair touched her elbow, urging yet protective. “Come on; if we hurry, we can get there before everyone else.” They turned and walked the short distance to the hotel bar.

  “There’s a table in the corner free. Go and sit down and I’ll bring the drinks over. What would you like?”

  “A glass of white wine, please.”

  While Anna waited for her drink she looked around the crowded bar. Malcolm Fraser and Charles Downie sat at a table opposite. Their heads bent together, no doubt discussing Alistair’s plans.

  Then she saw him, the mysterious guest from room thirteen. His hooded eyes studied her with a curious intensity as he perched on a stool at the end of the bar. Anna shuddered involuntarily. Relief washed over her a second later when Alistair returned with two glasses. He placed one on the table in front of her.

  “Thank you.” She struggled to focus on him. Do not look at the ugly man, she told herself, even though he’s looking at you. Don’t turn around.

  “Are you all right?” Alistair asked.

  “I’m fi
ne. But the tenants don’t seem very happy about your plans, Alistair.”

  “I expected some resistance. Things have changed since my father inherited. Sheep farming and forestry no longer bring in the income they once did. The estate needs to diversify, Anna, if it’s going to survive for another fifty years.”

  “I understand that, but do you really think turning the dowager house into an adventure school for children is a good idea? You will need specialist staff, and that means there won’t be many well-paid jobs for the villagers.” Anna watched a frown settle into his features.

  “Perhaps not. Most estates have other sources of income. These were only suggestions, Anna. I’m still discussing my options with the accountants and solicitors. I just wanted the tenants to understand that they can’t expect things to remain the same now that I’m in charge.”

  Anna rested a hand on his arm. “I see that, Alistair, but you have to admit that two rent rises in six months is a bit unfair. This isn’t Mayfair, you know.” She forced a smile.

  “I appreciate what you’re saying. Father just didn’t keep up the land.” He held up his hand when she tried to interrupt. “I know that isn’t entirely his fault, and that I should have shown more interest, but there’s no getting away from the fact that the tenants have had an easy time of it for the last few years.”

  Anna picked up her glass and played with the stem. She felt irked by his cool, aloof manner in dealing with such an emotive subject, and could understand Morag’s and the other tenants’ hostility to his proposed changes.

  “I know it’s none of my business, but will you take some advice?”

  “I’m always happy to listen to you, Anna, dear.”

  “In that case, don’t rush into making changes without considering all of your options. Whatever you decide will affect everyone in the glen. You could try to involve as many people as possible before committing yourself to one scheme or another. Otherwise you may find yourself fighting the very people you need to implement them.”