Katherine heard the sound of the wind, then, sweeping down the glen, and the rush of it through the broken panes of the window, and she listened to it with regret and a vague, hopeless longing in her heart.
‘Time to go,’ said Charles, damping down the remains of the fire. ‘We should be able to see the road quite clearly now.’
The rising wind had banished the mist, driving it down the glen before them and a furtive moon lit their way. They reached Glassary before midnight, to be greeted by Fergus and Mrs. Stevas in the doorway, both deeply concerned for their welfare.
‘Thank goodness you’re back!’ Fergus exclaimed. ‘We were beginning to get nervous.’
‘You’ll have had nothing to eat,’ Mrs. Stevas said practically, ‘but I’ve a meal ready in the kitchen.’
Charles helped Katherine down from the mare’s back.
‘What happened?’ Fergus asked. ‘Are you hurt?’
He was looking at Katherine, his dark eyes searching her face, and Charles turned abruptly away.
‘We were trapped by the mist for a while,’ he said brusquely. ‘Katherine had sheltered in MacNiven’s old croft and we had to stay there till it lifted a bit.’
‘You’ll be hungry,’ said Fergus, putting a hand on Katherine’s arm. ‘If I know Mrs. Stevas there’ll be plenty to eat in the kitchen.’
‘It’s all ready,’ the housekeeper assured them. ‘Hot soup and an omelette when you’re ready.’
Fergus was still looking keenly at Katherine.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked anxiously. ‘You look ghastly. Better get off all those wet clothes and get into bed. Mrs. Stevas can bring you a tray.’
‘I don’t want to cause any more trouble.’ Katherine was gazing at Charles’s unresponsive back view. ‘There’s been enough for one night.’
‘Don’t think of it as trouble,’ said Fergus. ‘We’ve been worried about you, but now everything is in focus again. When Charles came back with the Cessna we were still at the hotel and we had his car, but a horse is often the best mode of propulsion under the circumstances.’
Charles had ridden the mare hard, galloping where he could in his attempt to find her, and once again she tried to thank him.
‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come,’ she said. ‘I was almost at my wits’ end.’
His mouth hardened.
‘You would have survived,’ he said as Fergus hovered in the background waiting to offer her sympathy and understanding.
Why was there so much difference in Charles now that they had returned to Glassary? All the tenderness, all the concern he had shown when he had first found her out there on the moor was gone and the glimpse he had allowed her of another side to his character had faded, making her wonder if it had been no more than wishful thinking on her part when he had seemed so tender. It had seemed very real at the time. She could still remember the touch of his hand as he helped her back along the path to the deserted croft and the concern in his voice as he had assured her that all was well. That was why she had been able to sleep so fearlessly with her head cradled on his shoulder.
Because it was difficult to see everything in its true perspective, she accepted Fergus’s suggestion that she should go to bed, but she still hadn’t adjusted her thoughts when the two men followed her up the stairs an hour later. The tray Mrs. Stevas had brought her was still across her knees and she was wide awake.
The brothers paused at the head of the stairs, obviously finishing a conversation they had begun in the kitchen over their shared meal, and then, in the silence which followed the closing of a door farther along the corridor, there was a light tap at her door.
Her heart bounded at the thought of Charles, but it was Fergus who came in.
‘I wondered if you were asleep,’ he said, ‘but you look a lot better, I must say. You’ll have forgotten about everything in the morning.’
It would be difficult to forget, Katherine thought, smiling at him as he hobbled across the room.
‘I missed you,’ he said, his dark eyes sincerely concerned. ‘I wish I’d been able to help.’
‘Charles did everything he possibly could.’ Her tone was unconsciously harsh. ‘There was no point in everyone being upset, and I’m quite sure he was angry.’
He stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at her as he sensed the drama of her return.
‘Why bother to fight Charles?’ he said. ‘He won’t keep you here any longer than he needs to. You see, he’s got to be sure you won’t spirit Sandy away on Coralie’s behalf a second time. You know I have the legal right to my son, don’t you? One day I may be able to adjust my thoughts and learn to live without Coralie, but at present the fact remains that I’m still in love with her in a kind of a way. She’s Sandy’s mother and I can’t really expect anyone to take her place quite so soon. I’m completely handicapped in many ways, Kate,’ he sighed.
‘You’re a brilliant artist,’ she protested, defending him against himself. ‘That ought to count for something.’
‘It helps,’ he admitted. ‘I sell some of my pictures and it makes me feel independent up to a point, but I can never really deny the debt I owe to Charles.’
‘He believes it’s the other way round,’ she said huskily. ‘You saved his life once.’
‘Oh, that!’ He brushed the fact aside. ‘It was one brother for another. It shouldn’t involve a debt.’
‘I can imagine Charles being determined to pay it, all the same,’ said Katherine.
‘You know he’s settled a good deal of money on my son?’
‘Yes. I knew that in the beginning.’
Fergus paused.
‘Charles considers Sandy his heir, but that’s a great mistake,’ he said. ‘He could marry and have children of his own. Coralie was a bad example, I’m afraid, and he’s the determined type.’
The fact that Charles was merely using her to further his own ends struck coldly against Katherine’s heart. He imagined that Fergus was attracted to her, but how could he be on so short an acquaintance? Three days was no time at all to reverse a man’s conception of love, and Fergus had already told her that he hadn’t quite got Coralie out of his system.
‘Goodnight, Fergus,’ she said quietly, holding out her hand to him.
He crushed her fingers in his.
‘Thank you for looking after Sandy,’ he said gratefully.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT was two days before she spoke to Charles again. The cattle mart at Dalmally had taken up a good deal of his time, but he also seemed to be avoiding her when he was at Glassary. They met at meals, but Sandy and Fergus and Mrs. Stevas were there, too, so they had no opportunity of discussing anything of a personal nature until they came face to face on the second evening.
The day had been warm and sunny, a perfect spring day with the promise of more to come, and Katherine had lingered outside on the terrace as long as she could. Charles drove up as she was about to go in.
‘Have you had a good day at the mart?’ she asked.
‘Excellent. Prices were good and everyone was in a jovial mood. Farmers are either broke or happy with their success. I sold all the sheep we took down and bought several ewes with followers. Lambs,’ he amended when she looked slightly puzzled.
‘I’ve a lot to learn.’ She smiled as he got out of the Range Rover to stand beside her. ‘I like the word “followers”, because that’s just what lambs do!’
He looked up the glen to where the sun was shining on the hills.
‘What did you expect to achieve by running away?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Quite apart from your car being out of action for another week till the parts come from Glasgow, I need you here at Glassary. In a new role,’ he added reflectively. ‘I think you could help Fergus to recover completely.’
She gazed at him for a moment as if she hadn’t quite heard what he had said, her heart beating fast against her side, her thoughts in turmoil.
‘What are you t
rying to say?’ she asked at last. ‘Your brother has no wish to start another love affair.’
‘I was thinking of a new start,’ he said.
‘Meaning?’
‘He needs to regain his confidence. He needs to acknowledge the fact that there are other people in the world apart from Coralie.’
Her pulses racing, Katherine turned to face him.
‘Are you suggesting that I might pick up the pieces of his broken life?’ she demanded. ‘Are you really asking me to—to compensate Fergus for all he’s suffered through Coralie? Do you expect me to do it because I helped Coralie and deceived you in the first place?’
‘I’m making a suggestion, nothing more,’ Charles answered, moving towards the house.
‘I don’t think Fergus needs me.’ She walked beside him, determined to have her say. ‘He’ll make his own decision in the end. He’s your brother,’ she pointed out with a wry smile as they reached the foot of the stairs.
Sandy came sliding down the broad banister-rail and he caught him in his arms.
‘That’s enough of that!’ he reprimanded. ‘Particularly when you’re alone.’
Sandy looked at Katherine.
‘Is it dangerous?’ he asked, hoping for her support.
‘I think you ought to do as you’re told,’ she said. ‘If your Uncle Charles says it isn’t safe, I think he knows best.’
The wide blue eyes studied her for a moment while her advice sank in.
‘I’ve had my supper,’ Sandy said, dismissing the incident of his joyous descent from the floor above to the back of his fertile little mind. ‘It was chicken soup an’ cabbage.’
‘What? No meat?’ Charles laughed. ‘That’s no way to treat a hungry man!’
‘Did you buy some new lambs?’ Sandy wanted to know since he was now properly forgiven.
Charles nodded.
‘Several. They came with the ewes.’
‘I’ll see them in the morning,’ said Sandy, climbing the stairs again as Fergus made his appearance at the dining room door.
‘Had a good day?’ he asked, looking at his brother. ‘Did you sell what you took to Dalmally?’
‘The lot,’ said Charles, turning to mount the stairs after his nephew. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get a wash and change while you amuse each other.’
He seemed bent on throwing them together, although Katherine had done her best to explain that she wasn’t attracted to Fergus in the way he hoped she might be. Perhaps she hadn’t been firm enough, but she hadn’t wanted to argue with Charles again.
‘Emma is pressing on with the exhibition,’ Fergus told her as they walked through to the drawing-room. ‘She’s quite determined to include my pictures, so I expect I ought to go along with it.’ He paused to look at her speculatively. ‘If you’re not going back to London immediately we thought you might be willing to help.’
‘I’d like nothing better,’ Katherine began, ‘but—’
‘But?’ he prompted.
‘I don’t know the first thing about art,’ she excused herself, because she seemed to be walking into a trap of Charles’s making.
‘That wouldn’t matter one bit,’ Fergus declared. ‘We wouldn’t expect you to discuss my pictures—perspective and sensitivity and all that rot. You’d be on the selling side and Emma or I would be there for reference if a critic did get you into a corner. You really don’t need to go back to London, I gather, so won’t you consider it?’
‘I wish I could.’ She sat down on the settee where he had settled himself. ‘But you know how Charles feels about me. He can’t trust me, and all this is—sort of family, isn’t it?’
‘That’s rubbish!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve known you for almost a week now and it stands out a mile that you’re perfectly honest.’
Tears of gratitude for his trust welled in her eyes.
‘It’s kind of you,’ she said, ‘but this is Charles’s home. I can’t stay for ever.’
‘You can’t leave, either, until your car is repaired,’ he pointed out, ‘so you’ve at least got a day or two to make up your mind about the exhibition. Emma can’t be in Edinburgh for more than a week because of the hotel and I’d like to be with Sandy as much as possible, so you see how essential your help would be. We’d fix you up in Edinburgh in Charles’s flat.’
‘No! I’d rather not do that.’ She sat looking down at her clasped hands. ‘I’d rather be completely independent,’ she added.
‘Which sounds as if you might consider my idea?’ he suggested happily. ‘It would help a lot, believe me, and you needn’t worry about Charles. He seems to be leaning over backwards to please me at the moment, which probably has something to do with that debt of gratitude you spoke about.’
He was not entirely blind, Katherine thought. He had seen the trend of his brother’s reasoning and was half amused by it.
‘Can I think about the exhibition?’ she asked. ‘There must be plenty of other people you could get to help out.’
‘Not as many as you might think for so short a time,’ said Fergus. ‘If it was a local showing it would be easy enough, but people aren’t prepared to go so far afield as Edinburgh for just a couple of weeks. It would mean staying over there, for one thing, and farmers’ wives are far too busy in the spring to leave home, however arty-crafty they may be during the winter months.’
‘It was just a thought,’ Katherine said, already warming to the idea. ‘How long would it be for?’
‘Three weeks in all. We’d need the extra week for packing everything and bringing most of it back! We won’t get the gallery for longer than that,’ he explained. ‘They’re in big demand, especially in the summer and leading up to the Festival. You’ll love Edinburgh,’ he added, as if she had already accepted his offer. ‘It’s a magic city at any time of the year, but it comes into its own in the spring—like Paris.’
This new enthusiasm in him was what Charles had been waiting for and Katherine realised that she could not ignore it. For the first time since the accident Fergus was turning his face to the sun, giving himself a second chance, and his brother would do everything in his power to further it.
‘You make it sound tempting,’ she heard herself saying. ‘What does Emma think?’
He looked at her, perplexed by the question.
‘Emma? Oh, she’d be all for it,’ he declared. ‘She knows she couldn’t be in Edinburgh all the time herself because Morag needs her at the hotel and she’ll be as grateful as I am if you take it on. Well—nearly!’ he laughed when Katherine looked doubtful. ‘Emma doesn’t enthuse very much and neither do I, but this means quite a lot to her, I guess. Neither of us have ever been part of a professional exhibition before and this will be breaking new ground for us both. Maybe it won’t be such a howling success this first time,’ he added, ‘but at least we’ve tried.’
Katherine got up to look out of the window.
‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Trying. I know it’s all going to work out for you,’ she added almost passionately. ‘It has to!’
‘It will,’ he said, getting up to stand beside her, ‘with your help.’
It looked as if she had made her final decision as far as Edinburgh was concerned, and Charles would probably be pleased with the effort she had made. For one thing, it would mean the end of her sojourn at Glassary, and that was something he must surely want.
Thinking about the events which had led up to their meeting and the conflict which had existed between them ever since, she decided to phone London again in another effort to contact Coralie, who had been the instigator of it all. The number rang out, but there was no immediate response, and she was about to put the receiver down when someone spoke from the far end. It was a man’s voice, high-pitched and effeminate, and for a moment Katherine wondered if she had dialled the wrong number.
‘Coralie?’ he said when she asked. ‘Oh, my dear—yes! Coralie Edgar, of course. You know she went to New York?’
‘Yes, I know,’ sai
d Katherine. ‘I’m phoning to ask if she’s come back.’
‘Not yet, dear,’ the voice said. ‘She may be staying over there for some time, you know. For a week or two, anyway. She has this marvellous assignment which ought to put her on her feet for a long time. It’s decor, you know, dear. Quite a feather in her cap, I would say, and it could lead to greater things. She’s always wanted to get to the top and she’s on her way.’
Katherine stood holding the receiver with a sense of shock.
‘Does that mean she won’t be coming back at all?’ she asked.
‘Oh, dear me, no! If she can get a chance of work in London she’ll be right back, I would think. New York is a wicked place, dear—so full of disappointments and broken promises. Nobody cares, really. It’s all a great big melting-pot of talent without a soul. Coralie knows that one job has to be backed up by another and she would be better nearer home for a while. Can I say who called?’
‘It doesn’t really matter,’ said Katherine. ‘I’ll ring again.’
She turned from the telephone to find Charles waiting in the hall.
‘I was trying to contact Coralie,’ she told him.
‘And?’ His mouth was grim.
‘She’s still in New York.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Charles, I don’t really know what to say about all this,’ she confessed, ‘but if you did want to get rid of Coralie it seems that it’s all worked out to your satisfaction.’
‘You think she won’t come back?’
‘I can’t be absolutely sure, but you’ve got Sandy now, and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it? He’s back at Glassary where he belongs, with his father and you.’ There was a sudden forlorn note in her voice. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll ever forgive me for helping Coralie,’ she added, ‘but please remember that she tricked me, too. When I first met you in London I believed in her.’
‘You weren’t the only one to be taken in,’ he said grimly. ‘We all were, but I think Fergus is getting over her now. He’s far more relaxed and looking to the future. One day he’ll marry again, I hope.’
Moreton's Kingdom Page 11
