The House of the Laird (3 page)

Karen gave a sigh of exquisite relief when she found herself lying back against the silvery-grey upholstery, and the comfort of the superbly sprung seat was beneath her weary body. To be a
b
le to rest her head against yielding cushions was almost too much for her just then, and as Iain Mackenzie got in beside her and tucked a rug over her knees and closed the door she shut her eyes tightly, because of the rush of relieved tears under her too-white eyelids.

It was quite dark by the time they sped through Craigie, and there were scarcely any lights in the windows of the cottages fringing the main street. The simple front of El
l
en McBain
’
s cottage, with its small windows
heavily
festooned with lace curtaining, and shining brass knocker on the front door, was in absolute blackness, and the car did not even hesitate for a moment as it swept on its way up the slight incline at the summit of which the open country began once more. But as she was by this time sunk in entirely peaceful sleep, Karen had no idea of what was happening around her.

And she had only a confused impression, when she was later carried from the car and handed over to someone else, of bright lights which hurt her eyes and voices which, murmured without her understanding in the least what they were murmuring about. And as the sleep which drugged her was too deep and too persistent to be thrown off for more than a moment, even those lights and those voices were quickly lost to her, and the blissful moment when something like a floating cloud received her, and a delicious warmth stole all about her, brought nothing more than the faintest of smiles to her lips, she sighed—a long, shuddering sigh of relief. And then she went on sleeping.

CHAPTER THREE

Outside it was o
ne of those days when the very air sparkled, and the sky was a dear, cold blue. There was a resinous smell in the air, too, from the forests of larch and juniper which clothed the gaunt hillsides, and the sunlight picked out all the colors in the distant mountain tops. At one moment they were a tawny gold, and then they were emerald overlaid with violent patches of purple. When the sun retreated behind a cloud for a moment the purple predominated, and they looked sullen and brooding peaks, thrusting their shoulders against that hard backcloth of sky. But the instant the sun reappeared all the little half-frozen cascades finding their way down into the valleys stared to gleam like silver ribbons, and the constant gurgle of running water echoed amongst the leafless woods that surrounded Craigie House.

From her large four-poster bed, Karen could see out of the big bay window and away across the tops of trees to that superb view of Scottish mountains. They awed her because she had never seen mountains more impressive, and their brooding beauty on such a morning as this was something that did strange things to her internally, and filled her with a queer kind of humility, because by comparison she was so completely inadequate and, as she felt at that moment, colorless.

It was true that about her shoulders there was a fleecy pink bed-jacket that lent just a touch of color to her cheeks, and her short-curling hair had a ribbon looped through it that kept it out of her eyes, and the ribbon was pink, also. Mrs.
Burns
, who had been housekeeper at Craigie House for more years than she cared to remember sometimes, had discovered the ribbon amongst the contents of Karen
’
s suitcase
,
and
because she thought the girl needed something to brighten up her appearance she had fastened it into the fair hair.

Mrs. Burns was an extraordinarily comfortable person to have about one, and although she was extremely efficient, it was the kind of efficiency, that was kept well hidden by a soothing manner. She never bustled int
o
a room, or appeared to have little time to spare, or disdained gossip. She always seized the opportunity to sink into a chair by Karen
’
s bed and discuss the shortcomings of the various maids without any rancor or serious disapproval in her voice. She also told Karen bluntly that she had a long way to go before she was completely fit, and that she would have to take great care of herself in the future. Dr. Robert Moffat, from the village, had uttered strongly disapproving noises after he had been afforded an opportunity to examine Karen
’
s chest, and the warning he had passed on to Mrs. Burns was that unless the girl was looked after and kept warm and snug in bed for several days, and watched closely after that, he would prefer not to be the one who was responsible for her.

So Mrs. Burns kept enormous fires going in Karen
’
s room, and they blazed half-way up the chimney, looking immensely attractive framed in the white garlanded fireplace. At night, the flames leapt and played on the pastel-tinted walls of the room, and the white paintwork glistened and shone in the mellow
glow of lamplight which streamed, from the bedside table. The deep pink eiderdown on the enormous bed looked fat and opulent, the bed-curtains, although they were drawn back, were cosily pink also, and the carpet which covered every inch of the floor was a kind of warm claret color which turned to cardinal red when the embers blazed at their hottest.

Karen had hot-water bottles at her feet, and on each side of her, so that she sometimes felt she was being a little bit smothered by over-kindness, but rather than let Mrs. Burns guess this she endured the
discomfort with fortified special meals were prepared for her in the kitchen of Craigie House that would have set her
mouthwatering
under normal conditions, but with very little appetite she had to struggle to do justice to them because Mrs. Burns was bent on building her up. To keep her company Mrs. Bur
n
s brought her knitting and sat with her in the evenings, while the wind sometimes howled about the house in the frozen night outside, and the threat of snow came close, and then receded—for as yet, apparently, there had been none.

“
But we
’
ll get it before long now—you mark my words!
”
Mrs. Burns voiced it as her opinion, as she rocked herself lazily in the old-fashioned rocking chair which was her favorite, and seemed to rejoice in the direness of her own predictions.
“
And when it comes it
’
l
l
no
’
be leaving us very soon! We
’
re like to be snowed up here for a month and more, and like as not we
’
ll be cut off from the village. I
’
ve known that happen many a time in the past, and that
’
s why I never let my store cupboard get low. If the worst comes to the worst the one thing we
’
ll not do is starve.
”

Karen watched her fascinated as her busy knitting needles clicked away, and a look of the utmost complacency came over her face; and when she started to talk more thankfully about the master being safely at home for once, and not wandering about the world as he had been strangely tempted to do for the past year and more, Karen pricked up her ears a little because although she had been at Craigie House now for nearly a week, she had not once set eyes on her host since that night when she had fainted in his arms at Inverlochie.

When she had first discovered where she was she had been utterly confused and bewildered.

“
But why am I here and not at Nannie McBain
’
s?
”
she had asked Mrs. Bur
n
s.

“
If you mean Ellen McBain,
”
the housekeeper had answered,
“
she
’
s away to look after her brother who
’
s sick, and as he
’
s sick in Aberdeen she could scarcely be looking after you at the same time. No, you
’
re far better here at Craigie House, believe me, and here you
’
ll have to make up your mind to stop until you
’
re a great deal stronger than you are at present.
”

“
But—but that
’
s taking too t great an advantage of your kindness!
”
Karen looked, and .was, very much concerned, feeling that she had no right to be where she was.
“
It
’
s inflicting myself on you.
”

Mrs. Burns gave her rather an odd look, but she exclaimed at once:

“
What rubbish you
’
re talking, my dear, and it
’
s no trouble at all to look after you. You
’
re as easy a patient as ever I
’
ve dealt with, and if yo
u
think that Mr. Mackenzie would be wishing you to go elsewhere
—”

“
But I came up to stay with Nannie, and as she isn
’
t here I ought to go home!
”

“
And where,
”
Mrs. Burns enquired, looking slightly ominous and sitting down beside her,
“
is home?
”

Karen looked vaguely uncomfortable, and much less vaguely, disturbed.

“It’s a little—a little flat I have in London—”

“And who, may I ask, would be looking after you there?”

“No one,” Karen admitted. “But,” she added stubbornly, “I could look after myself.”

“
Oh, aye,
”
Mrs. Burns agreed with her there, in a tone of heavy sarcasm,
“
we
’
ve seen something of your looking after yourself, and what it resulted in. One dose of pneumonia, and you were heading straight for another, if Mr. Iain hadn
’
t had the sound commonsense to bring you straight here, and not even to waste any time knocking up Ellen McBain! And a waste of tim
e
it would have been, for she
’
s been gone from her house for nearly a fortnight.
”

“
Then she never even got my telegram,
”
Karen murmured, wondering a little wistfully whether Ellen ever would receive that telegram, and if she did whether she would get in touch with her. For, kind as Mrs. Burns was, and luxurious as were her present surroundings, there is a feeling of security in having someone in connection with whom one can claim some sort of belonging, and Ellen had never failed her before. In addition to which there was a natural shrinking in Karen
’
s breast from accepting anything in the nature of charity from anyone, especially complete strangers.

“
Oh, as to the telegram,
”
Mrs. Burns replied to that,
“
‘
tis more than likely it
’
ll be waiting for Ellen
o
n her front door mat when she returns, and by that time you
’
ll be feeling more like your old self. So I wouldn
’
t worry about that.
”

But Karen did worry, while accepting with apparent meekness the ministrations of people about her, and feeling at the same time whole-heartedly grateful for so much unstinted kindness. If only she could get rid of the feeling that somewhere in the house Iain Mackenzie, with his penetrating grey eyes and quiet speech, and that unostentatiously capable way of his of dealing with an emergency, was looking with annoyance upon this invasion of his home.

However humane he was, however much she had succeeded in arousing his pity, at least there were limits to the amount of consideration one should display towards a stranger. And if she had chosen any other moment to collapse in a dead faint than the one when he was checking his luggage as it was carried off the train at Inverlochie, their paths would never have become entwined like this.

As a result of discreet enquiries she had already elicited the information that he was a bachelor, and that this was
a
bachelor
’
s household. And a sick girl thrown upon the kind-heartedness of a bachelor could become a serious embarrassment to him.

The odd part about it was that Mrs. Burns did not seem to look upon it in that way. She persisted in regarding Karen as more or less a normal guest who had had the misfortune to be taken ill in the house, and negatived every protest made by Karen that she was causing trouble.

“
Mr. Mackenzie would be the last to admit that you
’
re any trouble, my dear,
”
she said to her more than once. And then added, somewhat surprisingly:
“
But you know that, don
’
t you?
”

One morning, when Karen had occupied her delightful bedroom for about a week, and the doctor had cut down his daily visits to every other day, Mrs. Burns came bustling into the room, and told Karen that she was to be permitted to get up for a short while.

“
Just in your dressing-gown, and to sit beside the window for a wee while, if you
’
d like to, she told her. She took Karen
’
s dressing-gown out of the commodious wardrobe and helped her into it, fastening the girdle securely about her waist, and placing a camel-hair rug over her knees when she was ensconced in her chair by the window. The dressing-gown was a faded blue, and it had the effect of heightening Karen
’
s fragile appearance almost alarmingly, but her fair hair caught all the sunshine, and looked like a nimbus framing her face. She watched in faint surprise as the housekeeper made a few rapid movements about the room tidying this and straightening that, and when a knock came on the door and Mrs. Burns flew to open it her surprise increased. And then her heart did a most peculiar bound under the faded dressing-gown, and she found herself gripping the arms of her chair. Color rushed up over her face, and for a few seconds after that she looked as if there was nothing very much wrong with her, for outside in the thickly carpeted corridor stood the tall figure of her host, looking as if he had just come in from a brisk walk in the invigorating air
outside,
with a bright, alert gleam in his eyes, and a healthy, rugged color under his deeply tanned
skin.

Not only did he look as if he had been recently taking exercise in that attractive, half-frozen world beyond the windows, but he brought that faintly resinous smell of the woods with him. As he stepped inside the room, after hesitating for only a moment while Mrs. Burns openly beamed at him, he looked about him for a moment in slight curiosity, as if he was unfamiliar with this particular wing of his house, sent a quick glance towards Karen who was still clutching the arms of her chair, and then looked inquiringly at Mrs. Burns.

“
I haven
’
t arrived at an inconvenient moment? You haven
’
t been putting the patient into a flutter getting her ready, to receive me?
”

His tone was jocular, but his eyes were keen as they bored their way into the housekeeper
’
s face. She answered at once, as she prepared to slip past him and out into the corridor.

“
Of course not, Mr. Iain! And, as a matter of fact, I think it
’
s high time Miss March saw someone apart from myself to cheer her up a bit.
”
Her smiling look roved between the two of them.
“
But remember this is the first time she
’
s been out of bed for a week, and I can
’
t allow you more than a quarter of an hour or so.
”

With this injunction she left the room, and the door closed behind her. Karen supposed it was because she was so ridiculously weak, but every pulse in her body seemed to be fluttering nervously, and her confusion showed in her eyes. This morning they were very blue, but they were also unnaturally large, and the pupils themselves looked dark and distended. Heir long eyelashes seemed to be lightly dusted with gold dust at the tips, and they wavered uncertainly as he moved across the room and stood beside her.