The House of the Laird (6 page)

Your loving Aunt Horry.

Karen lifted her eyes from the letter and looked in bewilderment at her host.

“But—but I don’t understand,” she said.

Iain smiled.

“Well, I’ll explain,” he answered, “if you haven’t already deduced the important point about that letter. Aunt Horry—my Aunt Horatia, that is, who was named after Nelson—has been spending part of
the winter abroad, but as usual she’s returned just at the wrong time, and within a matter of days she’ll be lunching here in this house, unless I make a grave mistake. I wrote Aunt Horry in Italy—because she was already threatening a return—about you, and she seems to be quite charmed by the notion of acquiring a niece by marriage. I happen to be one of her favorite nephews, and she’s always wanted me to marry. She has a house the other side of Craigie village, and once installed there again she’ll be a frequent visitor, and you’ll certainly have to get to know her. So you can’t talk about running out on me just now, even if you were fit to do so, which you aren’t yet.”

“But—” she almost gaped at him—
“
you don’t
really
mean to tell me that you told your own relative we were engaged?”

“I do,” with amusement gleaming in his eyes.

“And who,” she asked, after drawing a deep breath, “ is Fiona?”

This time the expression on his face altered, and grew hard and cold all at once—so hard, and so cold, that for just a few moments she felt that he was almost a complete stranger to her.

“She and I were once really engaged,” he explained, in, however, an absolutely level tone, “and then she decided to drop me in fa
v
or of an old friend of mine. The marriage only lasted a couple of years, and now she’s a widow. Aunt Horry seems to have run across her in Italy a
n
d she’s bringing her back with her—for some mysterious reason known only to Aunt Horry. But
—
” looking at her with
a
mixture of cynicism and something unusually watchful in his expression, “I feel sure you’ll appreciate my anxiety to have a little protection during her visit, and what better protection could a man have from a former
fiancée
than another
fiancée
? That’s why I say you can’t run out on me!”

Karen sat absolutely still and studied him attentively for several seconds. She was not sure how
she felt about this request of his that she should act a part already distasteful to her for some while longer, under circumstances which might make it much more than distasteful, but she did know that she was secretly rather amazed within herself because of the feeling of indignation which had risen up in her when he had let her into the secret of what had happened to him not much more than two years ago.

He who had been so kind to her—who had placed her within the sanctuary of his own house, and surrounded her with every comfort, done everything he could to restore her to health—was not the sort of man to be treated in such a cruel fashion by a woman! She felt so indignant that she actually quivered a little with it, and it showed in her eyes, and her tightening lips. She felt she despised the woman, and could do nothing but loathe her.

No wonder that in spite of their enforced intimacy, all the long evenings, and the many daylight hours, they had spent together, there had always been that something about him which had baffled her. He was impervious—safely entrenched behind the armor of what had probably been the one great love of his life—to any other woman, whether young or old, beautiful or just a rather colorless slip of a girl like herself, who had fainted in his arms on a railway station platform! It wasn
’
t that she had ever wanted him to pay her any serious attention—even to notice her, apart from the ridiculous helplessness which had claimed his sympathy—but even if she had, he would
not
have noticed her! In spite of their pretended engagement, which surely didn
’
t deceive even the servants, she might have been a member of his own sex who was enjoying his hospitality, and benefiting from his undoubted kindness. A young boy in his house, someone who aroused a certain protective instinct in him, but who would never get behind the uni
n
formative mask of his face and really know him.

And he h
a
d been hurt by a woman who was now proposing to step back into his life and perhaps hurt him again
!
It was preposterous—it was unthinkable! Her quivering indignation told her that something must be done about it.

“
How long is she likely to stay?
”
she asked.
“
This—this ex-
fiancée
of yours?
”

“
I haven
’
t any idea,
”
he replied, with a return of his usual lazy smile,
“
but I wouldn
’
t demand your protection too long if you felt the situation was impossible.
”

She was silent again for perhaps another full minute, and then she said quietly:

“
I don
’
t suppose it would be all that impossible, as I
’
ve already posed as your
fiancée
for nearly a month. And I feel that I owe you something. It
’
s been worrying me that I couldn
’
t think of a way in which I could repay you for all that you
’
ve done for me. But if—if deceiving your aunt, and this—this
Fiona—would be some sort of repayment, then I
’
m
quite
willing to continue with the deception.
”

For a moment she was surprised because he did not appear to grasp at her ready compliance with all
the gratification she had expected of him, and in fact, just for a bare half-second, she thought that something in his face was an indication that he was uncertain. He looked at her, and the cool grey eyes seemed to soften in a way they had never quite done before, and she felt that he was about to say something almost impetuous.

But if he was he changed his mind, and instead he said, with just the merest touch of mockery in his smile:

“
Well, in that, case, I shall probably have cause to be g
r
ateful to you—and I am grateful to you now! But I don
’
t really think I shall seriously require any protection from Mrs. Barrington. It would be flattering myself too much if I imagined that she still had any interest in me, but she was always very fond of my aunt. However, on the principle that
there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it, the fact that you are apparently willing to consider me as a life partner will remove any impression that I
’
ve become a woman-hater, or something of the sort, all as the result of one ill-fated romance.
”

“
There
’
s just one thing,
”
Karen said diffidently, as she stared at the fire in order to avoid having to meet his eyes.
“
You don
’
t think that perhaps—that when you see her again you might wish—wish you hadn
’
t attempted to deceive her? Discover that you don
’
t need any protection
—
?
”

He shook his head, his expression bleak again.

“
Even allowing for the fact that the flesh is weak, I don
’
t think so,
”
he answered.

But Karen wondered, as she ventured to steal another look at his face.

He glanced up quickly and met her eyes, smiling
a
little mockingly as he asked:

“
Well? What is it you want to know?
”

“
Is she attractive?
”
Karen asked.

“
Fiona Barrington?
”
He lay back in his chair and studied the glowing logs in the fire.
“
She was much more than attractive and she can
’
t have altered greatly in less than three years. She is also extremely beautiful, and although beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I think most people would agree with me that she is—quite something!
”

“
I see,
”
Karen said, and her voice sounded rather flat.

CHAPTER
SIX

The next day she h
ad
a
letter from Nannie McBain, full of affection and concern for her welfare, and stating plainly that there was little likelihood of her being back at her cottage for several weeks to come. But the letter concluded on a relieve note, because she had heard all about Karen
’
s engagement to Iain
Mackenzie, and although Ellen was obviously puzzled as to how this had come about, she was also delighted. The Mackenzies were a fine family, and Craigie House was so near to her own cottage that it would be lovely when she did finally return home to know that in future she would be living practically on Karen
’
s own doorstep. Karen was a lucky girl, and she congratulated her very heartily.

Karen felt slightly appalled when she had got to the end of this letter, pleased though she was to have at last some direct contact with her old nurse, and she carried it down into the library where the master of the place was at that moment sorting his own letters, and showed it to him.

After he had read it he looked up at her with an unmistakably amused grin.

“
Amazing, isn
’
t it, the way news gets around? And to
think
we
’
ve been snowed up for the past month.
”

Karen
’
s blue eyes looked dark with apprehension as she gazed at him.

“
Are you quite sure we
’
re not storing up for ourselves a lot of trouble?
”

“
My dear child, what trouble could you store up for yourself?
”
he demanded lightly, as he carelessly ripped up a pile of envelopes and dropped them into the wastepaper basket.
“
When the time comes you
’
ve merely got to let it be known that you couldn
’
t endure the thought of marrying me after all, and just drift away out of my life! It will be simplicity itself, and in the meantime I
’
m helping you to solve your own most urgent problem.
”

He glanced out of the window at the sun, making a splendor of the lawn that had been so recently hidden beneath a mantle of snow, and he added as if he had received a sudden inspiration

“
And do you know what I
’
m going to do now? I
’
m going to get out the car and take you for a short drive, which will at least be a change for you. So pop upstairs to your room and wrap yourself up warm
l
y. We mustn
’
t risk your catching a chill, but we must let you have a little air.
”

The drive was such a successful experiment that it was repeated the following day, and although on the first day they merely drove through the village and then back home by a road which brought them to the rear of Craigie House, the second day they ventured farther afield. It was so beautifully warm on this day that spring itself might have been just around the corner, and Karen
’
s eyes were gladdened by the prospect of brown fields lying open now to the kiss of the sun, and scarlet berries in the hedgerows that told their tale of a hard winter drawing rapidly nearer to its close. There was even a faint touch of scarlet in her own cheeks when she got out of the car at the completion of that day
’
s drive, and although she was certain that heads had popped out of doorways, and faces had watched them behind curtains, as the big black Mackenzie car stole
s
ilently through the village and between the rows of Cottages, she had thoroughly enjoyed it.

Iain looked at her approvingly.

“
Tomorrow,
”
he said,
“
we
’
ll try a short walk and test the strength of those legs of yours.
”

The walk, too, was something which Karen remembered in after days as having a strange quality of magic about it, for apart from discovering that her legs were perfectly well able to support the rest of her slender body as she started on her first real bit of exercise for weeks, the path they took and the hidden corners of the grounds they visited convinced her, if she had needed any convincing, that Craigie House, in its setting of woods and distant mountains, was far more beautiful than anything she had ever known at such close quarters.

In not much more than a few weeks the gardens would be a blaze of
e
very
sort of spring flower, and already they were unfolding themselves timorously in sheltered corners. There would be wave after wave of daffodils sweeping down to the shores of the lake, where the brown reeds bent backwards from the steel-grey water, and the little island in the centre of it, which seemed to be placidly afloat, would be a film of new green leaves instead of a wilderness of bare branches.

Under the sheltered south side of the house there would be wallflowers scenting the air with their sweetness as the spring advanced, and the long grass of the orchard would be starred with white narcissi. Looking even farther ahead, into the long summer days, Karen could imagine the peace that would be like a benediction over Craigie while the hours were filled with sunshine, and the lawns would look like emerald velvet under the clear, cool blue of the northern sky. The evenings would be full of the scents of dove pinks the drawing-room cascading roses from every vase, and the sun went down at last, the mountains, that were still grim and forbidding on a day in February, would look dreamy and remote under the first light of the stars.

She could see it all so dearly that it was almost as if she had the power of second sight, but her heart felt a little heavy when she remembered that in the summer she would not be there. She would be back in London, in her microscopic flat, working for someone like her old employer, who would demand nothing more of her than that she should receive his dictation and type his letters
with a fair amount of a
a
dequacy, and then allow her to go home at night to cook her own supper over a gas ring.

But as she walked the paths of Craigie with Iain Mackenzie at her side, and everywhere the air was full of the sound of water that had started to bubble and not merely to flow free of ice once more, and birdsong that was a little premature because winter might yet have a final fling in reserve, she was conscious of feeling physically so very much stronger that future events were just then more or less unimportant, and when they arrived back at the house her host
’
s chief concern was that he had not overtired her and that she was warm after her walk.

He looked somewhat doubtfully at her tweed coat, even after she had assured him that she was beautifully warm, and, in fact, glowing after the unaccustomed exercise.

“
You don
’
t seem to me to be wrapped up as much as you should be
,”
he remarked. He felt the shoulder of the tweed coat.
“
Is this really thick enough for a winter coat?
”

She knew what he was thinking—that her clothes were none of them up to the standard he would have looked for in a reasonably well-dressed woman, and she felt herself flushing as a sudden thought attacked her
.

“
You don
’
t think your aunt and Mrs
.
Barrington, when they arrive, will think I
’
m a little—well, shabby, for your
fiancée
?
”
she asked instead of answering his question.

“
My dear girl, what a ridiculous question,
”
he answered, looking down into her upraised, sensitive face.
“
And, in any case, I wasn
’
t thinking of shabbiness.
”

“
No, perhaps you weren
’
t, but Mrs. Barrington isn
’
t in the least shabby, is she?
”

He smiled with obvious amusement.

“
She used to be very much the reverse, but perhaps widowhood has changed her in some respects.
”

“
I should hardly think so,
”
Karen remarked, as if a good deal of the enjoyment of her walk had already departed from her.
“
Smart women don
’
t generally become dowdy even as
a
result of losing their husbands.
”

Then she went away upstairs to remove the offending coat.

When she came down to dinner that night she was wearing a little cherry-red dress that was the only really expensive purchase she had made since she had started to earn her own living, and at least she was not ashamed of it. The color did something to emphasize the extreme delicacy of her appearance, and her host stared at her rather hard when they sat facing one another at the table.

For the first
time since he had brought her to Craigie he was wearing a dinner-jacket, and she thought how well it became him, and how undeniably attractive he was in the soft light of the candles. They flickered in tall, Georgian candlesticks, and the rest of the table was heavily loaded with Georgian silver, although there were only the two of them.

Iain looked along it and said suddenly and almost abruptly to the girl at the opposite end:

“
There
’
s something I want to ask you, Karen. Will you become engaged to me in earnest?
”

Karen set down the small silver spoon with which she had been coping with her sweet and looked at him in astonishment.

“
Whatever for?
”
she asked
.

Prout, the parlormaid, returned with their coffee, and when she had po
u
red it out she brought bottles of liqueur from the sideboard and set them on the table Karen shook her head when Iain offered her a brilliantly green chartreuse, and as soon as the maid had departed again she said with an odd, uncertain note in her voice,

“
Are you really asking me to marry you?
”

“
I am.
”
He was frowning at the bottles and not looking at her.
“
I think if you would consider it, it would solve quite a few of your problems, and there are other reasons why I personally feel it would be a good idea.
”

“
What other
reasons?
”

He looked at her this time, and his look was contemplative—probing.

“
Oh, there are quite a few of them, really, but the main one is that you need looking after. I
’
m a little bit concerned about you because I don
’
t quite know what you are going to do when you leave here, and
I feel very strongly that you ought not to be allowed to leave at al
l.
Also—well, Craigie can do with a
mistress, someone to run the place. And I
’
m sure you could do that quite adequately.
”

Karen stared at the green chartreuse he had poured out for himself, and she hoped he was not aware of the fact that a pulse at the base of her throat was beating like a frightened bird imprisoned in a cage, and that she was feeling a little sick inside at the same time. It was the coat, she told herself dully. The coat had caused him to make up his mind about this, and in order that she should be provided with suitable
c
oats, and alarm no more strangers by fainting in their arms at inopportune moments, he was prepared to marry her. He was also a little afraid because Fiona Barrington was coming back into his life, and he had no desire to fall a victim to her a second time. He was probably well aware that there was a very grave danger of his doing so, but if only he really was engaged to be married—or, better still, actually married!—then the danger could not touch him. He was playing for safety, and he thought she did not know it!

“
Well?
”
he asked, as she made no attempt to answer him.

She lifted grave, but otherwise slightly inscrutable, blue eyes from the liquid in his glass, and gazed at him.

“
No,
”
she answered, shaking her head,
“
no, I couldn
’
t marry you.
”

His eyes lifted slightly.

“
You
’
re quite sure about that?
”

“
Quite sure.
”

“
Very well,
”
he murmured, the tone of his voice providing her with no clue to what he was thinking.
“
We won
’
t discuss the matter again, but it struck me this afternoon that it was a good idea, that
’
s all!
”

Then he rose and pushed back his chair, and as she walked ahead of him into the drawing-room he suggested that they should play chess.

“
Or shall we try something else for a change?
”
he further suggested.
“
What about two-handed rummy, or piquet? Can you play piquet?
”

He brought out the cards, and set the little table up between them, and as he proceeded to instruct her
in
the art of a card game she had not so far attempted to play she found herself watching him and feeling curiously fascinated by the sight of his bent head and absorbed expression. He might have asked her in the dining-room just now to let him run her in to the nearest town to do some shopping, or something of the sort, and not anything as momentous as whether or not she could bring herself to marry him.