A Stranger Light

by Gloria Cook

  'I'm Fergus Blair. Laird of Glenladen. Does that explain who I am?’

  Tristan nodded and sighed heavily. Blair’s timing couldn’t be worse. He saw no reason not to reveal his identity to Susan. ‘Susan, this is Simon’s father.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Faye was shaking so badly she had trouble clipping on her pearl earrings. She smoothed her hair, which she’d pinned back in a chignon, then smoothed her linen, square-shouldered, panelled dress over her hips, her hands trembling like an old woman’s. Make-up. How on earth was she going to put it on? Why bother anyway? It wasn’t as if her expected visitor meant anything to her.

  ‘Why did you have to come now?’ She aimed the question at the last image of Fergus Blair in her mind. Outside his highland castle, Glenladen, with the tranquil waters of the loch below. Handsome, dark and powerful, concerned and sorry for what he had done. ‘I shouldn’t have been so irresponsible,’ he’d said. ‘I hate it that you have to go away. Mrs McPherson will look after you. She and her husband have farmed on this land all their lives. I don’t want you to go without anything. I’ve paid two thousand into your account, and I shall add three hundred each year on the child’s birthday. Mrs McPherson will keep me informed. I wish you well, Faye. I’ll never forget you, I swear.’

  Was that why he had turned up at Tremore this morning? Had she been imprinted on his mind these last four years, and in the end he’d had to come to her? Fergus would probably know from Mrs McPherson that she had not met anyone else – she kept in touch with the woman who had been so kind and motherly during her confinement. Although she had been hurt and rejected by Fergus’s refusal to divorce his wife, a part of her, in quiet, contented moments, had thought it would be nice to see him again one day. They had enjoyed an impassioned, happy relationship, and despite the terrible let-down, she couldn’t hate him. His timing to come here could not have been worse. While her emotions were in turmoil, while she was considering whether to go ahead with the decision she had made in Hennaford’s school playground. While she was feeling guilty for deserting Mark before he was completely well, and for shunning him and Susan. Then there was the hurt she had caused Lottie. Lottie was considered the most selfish one of the family, but she had done nothing as terrible as she had, throwing her a magnificent gesture only to destroy it hours later, leaving Lottie bereft and humiliated. She wouldn’t blame Lottie if she never forgave her.

  Since the phone call from her uncle telling her of Fergus’s arrival in Cornwall, she’d forced away all thought that he might still mean something to her. No doubt, Fergus only wanted to see Simon, and as she was accepting his financial support for their son, it gave Fergus the right to see him. From the start she had made up her mind to never refuse him access. The time she had spent with Fergus had been wonderful, and she realized she had not fully left him behind. Now she was determined to. His arrival might just be the catalyst she needed to tidy up all the loose ends in her heart and go forward in the right direction, to move on successfully with her life, for her own and Simon’s sake.

  While getting ready to see him, memories had filtered into her mind, so real and alive some of them seemed to have happened only yesterday. From the start there had been a reciprocal liking. Fergus was strong and fun, with an old- world charm that was enticing. He knew he held a potent appeal to women and he’d used it and laughed at it. Faye had found it hard to understand why his wife, the mother of his three children, all away on war service, had forsaken him years before, running off to Florence – with a younger, brittle lover, according to accounts from the staff. Fergus had explained that she had become restless, wanting to travel and socialize, but the estate and his duty to it and love for it, and the slow, traditional, sometimes hard way of life it demanded, was all he wanted.

  They had spent many hours alone, sharing their deepest thoughts on long walks through the glens, fishing on the loch and over his ancient banqueting table. They had slipped into taking a nightcap together, climbing the vast worn stairs at the same time, and one cold winter’s night, instead of separating on the wide draughty landing, he had slipped an arm round her waist.

  He had drawn her to him and she had gone into his arms, seeking his lips as instantly as he had sought hers. ‘That wasn’t a mistake, Faye,’ he had said, letting her go. ‘You’re so lovely. So perfect.’ She had thought him perfect.

  The next night, in the same place, after exchanging lingering glances and warm touches all day, they had kissed for ages. When he had finally drawn away, Faye was sure that it must already be morning, and she had spent the long hours of the night with him in blissful contact. Then the clocks had chimed midnight, the magical hour of a fairy tale. But she had not wanted the night to end. Fergus had taken her hand. ‘Will you come with me?’

  She had squeezed his hand and nodded.

  It was cold in his room with the wartime restrictions on fuel, but she had not felt herself shivering as he’d quickly undressed her. Fergus had nearly scalded his bare legs on the old porcelain hot water bottle the housekeeper had put in the large ancestral bed. How they had laughed. And loved. And it had been like that every day for months until the horror of the moment she had realized she was pregnant.

  The fairy tale had come to an end. She had known it would. Fergus had never said he loved her, he had never promised her anything. It had not occurred to Faye a baby would part them, as Fergus had said he’d ‘take care of that sort of thing’. He had slipped up, and it had been a terrible wrench for her to leave Glenladen, a place of inestimable beauty. Of pine forests, wild deer, shaggy-coated cattle and clean air, where she had felt valued and cherished. After her initial fear and regret, she was glad to be having a child, someone she could share a lasting love with. Simon mattered more to her than anyone in the world. He loved her without question, and she would always put him first. It would be hard for her to face Fergus, but it was right that he had come for Simon’s sake. She didn’t want her beloved son to feel rejected by his father, like she had by hers. She saw Fergus’s timing now as a sign. It would soon be revealed why he had come, and she would put up a shield and stay wary of his intentions.

  * * *

  The attractive young woman with Tristan Harvey had gone on into Tremore House, and he had put himself in Fergus’s way, frosty and determined. ‘Faye’s not here. She has gone away for a while. I suggest you write to her and ask if she’ll consider seeing you. I’ll pass on your letter when she gets back.’

  ‘Has she gone far?’ Fergus was just as determined. He would not be put off easily.

  ‘That’s really none of your business.’

  ‘I take it that she hasn’t. Look, Mr Harvey, I’m pleased you feel you should protect Faye, but let me assure you that I’m not here to upset her in any way. I’d very much like to see her and our son. I know Faye. She won’t thank you for treating her like a child. I think she would like the opportunity to speak for herself.’

  Reluctantly, Tristan Harvey had invited him inside Tremore, keeping him in the hall, and agreed to ring her. He had returned from the library, grim and sighing. ‘She’s agreed you may go to her, Blair. I wanted to go too, but she feels strong enough to face you alone. Let her down or hurt her and I’ll come after you. The last thing she needs is more complications.’

  Fergus wasn’t given to nervousness, but he was anxious about the reception Faye would give him. He should have got in touch from Glenladen, but he was afraid the distance would make it easy for her to feel it unwise to see him. He heard her coming down the stairs, then her light steps heading his way. He felt as goosey as a boy braving his very first date.

  ‘Hello Fergus.’ She was there in the doorway, as gorgeous as ever but presenting herself with pride and sophistication. He had thought about her every lonely day since she had left his castle. He had been drawn to her from the first instant, and that sweet attraction had grown into something beautiful, which he’d kept in his heart. Seeing her now, so lovely, so wonderful, part of her back to the melancho
ly girl she had first been, that beauty inside him burst into life and nearly overwhelmed him. He knew he had loved her in all the years since their parting, and he so wanted to tell her this, but he must be careful and sensitive with her. To his shame, he was responsible, partly as least, for the reason why she wasn’t happy and content as she deserved to be. He cursed himself for being a weak fool in letting her go.

  As if they had a will of their own his hands stretched out to her. ‘Hello Faye. It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful, just as I expected. I hope you don’t mind me coming down unannounced. I was afraid you might put me off.’

  With him actually here in front of her, Faye wasn’t sure what her reaction would have been if he had got in contact first. He had not changed a bit. He exuded the same enticing masculinity and he searched her face as he talked, letting nothing distract him, focused totally on her, just as before. An easy smile lit up his gorgeous dark features and his vivid green eyes hinted of mysterious depths, as deep and as exciting as the loch on his home shores. He had the same powerful persona, looking much younger than his years. He seemed less comfortable not being on his own ground, but she didn’t put that down to anything to do with her. She clasped her hands together formally. ‘I presume you at last want to see your son?’

  ‘And you too, Faye,’ he said, hoping he was conveying his sincerity. ‘It was a devil of a job to wear your uncle down and get him to agree to ask you to see me. He warned me very thoroughly not to upset you. As if I would, Faye. I suppose he’s a really decent sort.’

  ‘Uncle Tris is one of the best.’

  ‘Um, I hope you don’t mind, I’ve managed to get a room at the local hotel even though the holiday season’s in full swing. I must say I enjoyed the journey through the maze of lanes and little villages. And when I got my first glimpse of the ocean, why, I was completely bowled over. It’s astonishing, magnificent. I hope to see lots more of it, and to see more of you, Faye. How are you? I got the feeling from your uncle that you’re not too good. And how’s Simon? Can I see him?’

  She felt no threat from what Fergus said. He was hesitant and seemed not to have come sweeping back into her life with arrogance. But she wasn’t about to give away anything personal. ‘Simon’s fine. He’s taking a nap. He should wake soon.’ She indicated they should sit down. She perched on the end of a sofa.

  He took a seat across the spacious room, not wanting to crowd her. ‘It’s all rather simple, Faye. My wife Sheila is dead. She and her lover were drowned three weeks ago in a boating accident on the canals. The instant I heard, when I knew I was free, my thoughts went straight to you. What you had meant to me. What we had was so much more than an affair to me, I hope you always knew that. I’ve thought of you a lot since you left Glenladen. There’s been times I became quite determined to seek you out, but I felt it wouldn’t have been fair to you, so I always talked myself out of it. I arranged for Sheila’s body to be flown back for burial, as her will requested, in her family kirk at Fort William. The next day, Donald, Isabel and Jamie came to me in force and urged me to make a life of my own, to find someone. Isabel, in particular, stressed that I’d been married to the estate for far too long. Did I really want to be a lonely old man? Then she mentioned you. She took to you that one time you met. She realized we were closer than boss and secretary, and she’d told her brothers about us at their mother’s wake. Then I found myself telling them about the real reason why you’d left and about Simon. Isabel suggested, as you were, apparently, on your own too, that I look you up. Faye, my three children would really like to meet their little brother. I dithered for a while, concerned how you would take all this, then I got on the next train. So, here I am, to see you and our son. I’m hoping that I can persuade you to come to Glenladen at some time. Faye, I want Simon to know me as his father, to know his brothers and sisters, and his little niece. Donald’s married now, and has just presented me with my first grandchild. Please think about it.’

  Faced with her best hopes for Simon, to be fully accepted by the man who had fathered him, to get to know the other branch of his family, Faye felt some relief, but there were still concerns. ‘What about the people on the estate? I wouldn’t countenance pretending Simon was another man’s.’

  ‘No need for that, Faye. It’s got around, everyone knows. I think Isabel told Mrs McIntyre, the housekeeper, and after that human nature took its course. There will be little or no prejudice, no moralizing. Now I’m free, people are expecting me to do the right thing by you. I’ve been told to by many in no uncertain terms, including the minister. I should have done that over three years ago. I was a coward. I’ve been told that too.’

  Faye’s jaw was sagging. ‘Fergus, what exactly are you saying?’ She feared she was about to be placed in an impossible situation.

  ‘I’ve not come to play games with you, Faye, so I’ll be straight with you. You know it’s my way. There seems to be no one else in your life, so,’ he took a mighty breath, ‘if you’d have me, I’d so very much like for us to marry. Please don’t feel you have to say anything. I don’t want you to feel under any pressure. If you want me to go away I will, but I’m hoping you’ll see if anything could be recovered between us.’

  She had to force herself to take it in. Was this really happening? The offer of what she had once longed to receive. It would solve everything. She wouldn’t have to go to some strange place and pretend to be married. She could live in the wild beauty of a place where she had known some of the happiest moments of her life, fully accepted, married to Simon’s father, making Simon legitimate. ‘This is all such a surprise. I’ve no idea what to say.’

  She got up and paced about the room, knowing his eyes were on her every move. Her feelings for Mark were still strong, but even if he changed his view of her, Simon must come first. There couldn’t be anyone better for him than Fergus. He had been honest with her, admitting his faults, the mark of a good man, but allowing him to stay on in the bay could be a terrible mistake, and she had made so many of them in her life.

  Fergus was sinking by fathoms. Her expression was grave. Was she angry, offended? ‘I hope you won’t send me away.’

  ‘Mummy.’ A little voice was heard outside in the passage. In the intensity of their discussion, they hadn’t heard Simon padding down the stairs. He appeared in cotton dungarees, bare-foot and pink-faced and rubbing his eye. Trailing a large teddy bear from one hand.

  ‘Oh, my word,’ Fergus gasped. ‘He’s just… he’s beautiful. And he’s mine.’ Gulping back his emotion he got up and fell down on his knees in front of the little black-haired boy. ‘How could I have missed all this until now?’

  Simon took his fingers from his eye, saw the man, blinked, and gazed at Faye for reassurance.

  Faye went to them, and Fergus gazed up at her with desperate appeal. She couldn’t send him away, it wouldn’t be right. She caressed Simon’s tousled hair. ‘It’s all right, darling. This is your daddy.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mark was out riding. It was years since he had straddled a horse, but allowing for his aching legs and seat, he was enjoying the experience, with Addi jogging at his side in between shooting off to sniff new territory. He recalled Maureen’s pleas at the stables to go with him.

  With the other three children, she had watched him saddle up. ‘I can sit up in front of you, Mr Fuller.’ She had clung to the bridle while he’d mounted the dark bay hunter. ‘I won’t be any trouble, I promise. Please can I go?’

  He had looked down on the scrap of a girl in a grubby cotton frock, with wayward socks and unruly hair. ‘I’d rather go alone, Maureen.’

  ‘I won’t make a fuss, promise. Mr Tris is teaching me to ride, and I’ve ridden the ponies in the paddock bareback.’

  ‘You shouldn’t mess about with the ponies or horses, Maureen,’ he’d frowned. ‘You mustn’t annoy them. You could get hurt.’

  ‘I won’t.’ She had tried charm, putting her hands together prayer fashion. ‘I want to go with you now.
Please, please, please.’

  ‘Sorry, Maureen. I’ve said no.’

  ‘Stop it, Maureen, or I’ll tell your mum you’re playing up again,’ Bob had muttered darkly. Len had nodded agreement. Maureen was undermining their leadership, as boys and the elders of their gang – the Fearless Four – and they were increasingly turning to Susan or Tristan to settle matters. While Pearl didn’t mind, impressed by Maureen’s devil-may-care ways, the twins were jealous of the attention she drew, especially from their Uncle Tristan, and they had made attempts for her to fall out of his favour. Her punishment for taking and breaking the stop watch had had no effect on her. The twins had complained to Mark that she’d been naughty in the fish and chip shop after the pictures, showing them up by singing ‘The Good Ship Lollipop’ loudly and tapping out the tune with her knife and fork. She had fidgeted and cracked jokes that had included bad words – learned, to her mother’s anger, from her Uncle Kenny. Other diners had tutted. Then she had gone up to the counter and demanded more bread and butter. The proprietor had pointed at her crossly, ‘Sit down young lady and be a good girl for your mummy and daddy.’ The twins said it had made Mrs Dowling turn a funny colour, but that their Uncle Tristan had ‘for some strange reason’ actually seemed pleased. It was all very puzzling to the boys.

  ‘Do you think Uncle Tris and Mrs Dowling are stepping out?’ Bob had asked him. ‘It’s what people in the village are hinting at. Pearl went with her and Maureen to the shop yesterday and when Mrs Eathorne was weighing out our sweet ration, she said to Mrs Dowling, “I hear things are getting cosy for you at Tremore now Miss Faye’s away. You couldn’t do better, if I may say so.”’

  ‘“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs Dowling had said back, and Pearl said her face went as red as a beetroot.’