If Love Be Love

by Flora Kidd

  ‘Yes, he is. He gets cross with Mummy. Yesterday he was rude to her.’

  ‘I can’t believe that. Your uncle is always very polite.’

  ‘I know he was rude because Mummy told him not to be,’ replied the child stubbornly.

  Logan angry enough to be rude. Logan shaken out of his cool manner. Logan expressing violent emotion with violent words. Anya was capable of rousing him, as Nancy had seen, by his reaction to her spiteful words about accidents when Neil was lost in Skye. And why could she rouse him? Nancy could find only one answer. It was because he was in love with Anya that she could hurt him.

  Nancy’s spirits plummeted suddenly, causing her to be silent as they came to the end of their voyage. Silently she obeyed Logan’s instruction and she went up to the bow with the boathook to pick up the mooring buoy.

  Sitting in the dinghy opposite Logan as they went ashore she stared over his shoulder at Lanmore Lodge, at the two figures which waited at the water’s edge. While she had been on Vagabond she had been happy because she had been with the person she wanted to be with most. As soon as they touched land again they would be parted by people, by problems. With her usual honesty in facing up to reality Nancy faced the truth squarely, but for the first time in her life her courage wavered, causing her to bite her lip and to frown.

  The oars stopped their rhythmical movement. A hand was closed over hers where they rested on her knees and she heard Neil say from the bow of the dinghy,

  ‘Why have you stopped, Uncle? I can see Mummy. She’s waving to me.’

  Then Logan’s deeper voice said quietly,

  ‘Don’t be worrying, Nancy. I shall do all the explaining.’

  She looked at him. His eyes were bright and intent. They stared at each other and once again time stood still as it had when they had met the previous day at the Games. And in that timeless moment Nancy realised that h was possible she was in love with Logan and not in love with Rod. Realisation came as a shock and her first reaction was to reject the idea as ridiculous. That sort of thing did not happen to practical, realistic people like herself. Annoyed with herself for behaving no better than Linda, she pulled her hands from under his in a gesture of rejection and said coolly,

  ‘I’m not worried. I have nothing to worry about. I can explain for myself. Rod will understand. You’ll have enough explaining to do to your sister-in-law.’

  Her words did the trick. They broke the spell. He began to row again, and the timeless moment of wonder was over. Logan’s face wore its customary closed polite expression. He said lightly with an indifferent shrug,

  ‘As you wish.’

  At once Nancy felt painful stirrings of remorse. Thinking that she was very concerned about Rod’s reaction to her nocturnal escapade, Logan had offered to shoulder the full responsibility for the explanation. He wanted to shield her from blame and she had rejected his offer curtly in her effort to hide her confusion. Again she looked at the bulky blue ramparts of the familiar mountains on the other side of Loch Arg and tried to pretend that their clear outline was not blurred by unexpected tears.

  Within minutes the dinghy was beached and she was being helped to step ashore by Stan Black. Anya greeted her son effusively, kneeling on the sand to embrace him, crooning over him in her deep guttural voice.

  ‘Don’t overdo the anxious mother act, Anya,’ jibed Logan nastily. ‘He’s been perfectly all right.’

  Anya, who was as lovely in the early morning as she had been in the rain of the previous afternoon, released Neil and kneeling back on her heels looked up.

  ‘But I have been anxious, darling ... about you too.’ She scrambled to her feet and added with a winning smile, ‘Oh, is that why you’re sour? I did not say so ... and you are jealous.’

  Going up to Logan, she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him. ‘I was very anxious,’ she repeated in a low voice, then turning to look and Nancy she said, ‘About you too, Nancy. You have come to no harm, I hope?’

  Nancy smiled. Her face felt stiff and she had never felt less like smiling.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you. We had a very peaceful night in a perfect anchorage.’

  ‘A very peaceful night,’ repeated Anya with irony. ‘That is more than we can say, isn’t it, Stan?’

  ‘I can’t say I lost much sleep,’ grinned Stan. ‘I had a feeling Logan would turn up sooner or later. He always does.’

  ‘Were you really anxious, Anya?’ Logan’s voice was still sharp. Anya’s embrace did not seem to have pacified him.

  ‘Of course. I was thinking of my little Neil.’ She fondled the child’s blond hair.

  Neil immediately spoiled the effect by acting perfectly naturally, jerking his head away from her caress and saying, ‘I’m hungry. I want my breakfast. Can I go and fee Aunt Mary? She had lovely cereal for breakfast. Can I, Mummy, can I?’

  ‘It’s a pity you didn’t show more anxiety yesterday, then, when he was lost. Why didn’t you stay in Portree until we had found him? asked Logan in that same caustic way.

  Anya pouted at him and linked an arm through his in a manner which Nancy found familiar. Anya had behaved in the same way towards Rod the previous day. Perhaps she hoped by physical contact to allay Logan’s anger.

  ‘You are in a foul mood, darling. Maybe, unlike Nancy, you did not have a peaceful night. Come and have breakfast and you will feel better and then I shall explain.’

  ‘You can tell me now why you didn’t wait in Portree for Neil and Nancy.’

  Anya’s smile had a seraphic quality very reminiscent of Neil’s.

  ‘I believe you are really jealous this time. I forget why we did not wait. Do you know, Stan?’

  Stan looked rather troubled and muttered,

  ‘Someone had said something about the hotel at Sligachan, so we went on there.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Anya as if she found it a satisfactory explanation. ‘We thought you’d send Neil and Nancy to Lanmore in a taxi. We didn’t think you’d take them on Vagabond. Poor Rod, he has been terribly worried about Nancy.’

  ‘Why?’ Logan’s voice was ominously quiet.

  ‘Well, you have to admit it was rather disconcerting for him. His fiancée walked off, then disappeared into the blue with another man and didn’t turn up all night. Don’t you think so?’

  Anya’s gaze roved over Nancy’s crumpled skirt and sweater and in spite of her efforts to remain calm and unconcerned Nancy could feel her temper rising. Anya’s description of what had happened was insinuating and it was quite obvious that she wanted to lay the blame for the whole episode on Nancy.

  ‘If you had remained in Portree until we had found Neil or had even offered to help me find him the situation would not have arisen,’ replied Logan. ‘It seems to me that you’re playing a strange game.’

  Anya’s glance wavered under his direct stare, but not for long. Her smile was bland and beautiful as she retaliated, ‘But not as strange as yours, darling. Were you hoping to make me jealous too?’

  Exasperation with this comment darkened Logan’s face. Without a word he flung off Anya’s hand and turned and walked away as he had the day before. Pleased that someone had at last shown an interest in moving towards the house and food, Neil ran after him shouting,

  ‘Wait for me, wait for me!’

  ‘You will excuse me, Nancy, Stan, while I go and see if I can placate Logan. He is difficult to manage, that one, and always I say the wrong thing.’

  She went off, running lightly and gracefully. Side by side Nancy and Stan began to walk after her.

  ‘For a person who’s been at sea all night you’re looking remarkably none the worse for wear, which is more than can be said for Logan,’ remarked Stan affably. ‘What happened out there?’

  Nancy explained briefly and he nodded.

  ‘Quite feasible. Logan wouldn’t have so much of that trouble if he installed a diesel engine on that tub, as I was telling him yesterday. Anyway, your reason for not turning up is a much better one than ours for
having deserted you and for having left you to Logan’s tender mercies. We’re all to blame, but Anya more than the rest of us. She fairly dazzled your fiancé so that he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. I can’t make out what she hoped to achieve, unless it was to make Logan jealous as she suggested. She’s hoping he’ll propose marriage while she’s staying here.’

  ‘Do you think he will?’ asked Nancy.

  ‘I’m hoping he won’t. But Anya has a big pull with him in the person of Neil.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘The child needs a father, and Logan knows that. The fact that Neil is Angus’s only son weighs very heavily with him.’

  ‘Yes, I realise that. Why are you hoping he won’t propose marriage? If he married Anya the problem will be solved,’ asked Nancy, who was puzzled by his offhand statements.

  ‘Because Anya and I have an arrangement which I don’t want spoiling.’

  Nancy blinked.

  ‘Then why don’t you marry her?’

  ‘I don’t want to be a father ... not even a stepfather,’ he replied with a rueful grin. ‘I’m not cut out for it any more than Anya is to be a mother. I’m far too selfish and engrossed in my career. Anya and I make a good couple because neither of us expects too much of the other. It would suit me very well if Logan took over the upbringing of Neil, and left me with the task of looking after Anya.’

  Feeling bewildered by his unusual attitude to life and by his frank admissions, Nancy asked another question.

  ‘Mr. Black, I wonder if you could tell me something about Logan. You must have known him for a long time.’

  ‘Ten years. I’ll try. And the name is Stan, Nancy.’

  ‘Do you think he was responsible for the accident which killed his brother?’

  Stan took his time. They were close to the house and he stopped walking and turned to look back at the view. Nancy stood beside him waiting.

  ‘I guessed that it had been on his mind,’ he said at last. ‘I take it that he told you that was the way of it, did he?’ Nancy nodded.

  ‘And I suppose that’s the way most people looked at it at the time, especially when he decided to give up racing all together,’ continued Stan. ‘But those of us who knew both brothers well knew that Logan was the better driver of the two and the one least likely to make a mistake. He’s always been calm and extremely disciplined. He never did anything which might cloud his judgement when he was racing. He didn’t marry because he felt that not only would it be unfair to his wife when his way of life was so dangerous but also because he felt that the emotional involvement might affect his driving. While racing was his love no woman stood a chance with him, although that’s not to say that he didn’t like the opposite sex.’

  Stan wrinkled his brow as if wondering how to go. Nancy prompted him,

  ‘And Angus?’

  ‘Very different. Brilliant and unstable and as jealous as hell of Logan. Used to take unnecessary risks. We were always warning him. His greatest mistake was in marrying Anya. He was never sure of her and I suppose you could say that it was she who was responsible for his death. He was suspicious of her and in a bad state just before that race. Wild enough to take chances when he shouldn’t ... and he was determined to beat Logan because he had had a series of poor races while Logan had been successful.’

  ‘Then he could have made a mistake by cutting in too sharply,’ said Nancy.

  ‘That’s exactly what he did. A grave error of judgement. No one driving behind him could have missed hitting him. But it had to be Logan.’

  ‘Yes, it had to be Logan,’ repeated Nancy sadly, as she thought of Logan’s version of the accident and the way in which it had affected his attitude to life.

  ‘Have I told you what you wanted to know?’ asked Stan, glancing at her shrewdly.

  ‘Yes, thank you. It’s a pity that Logan still thinks he was entirely to blame.’

  ‘I suppose it is, but I think he’s recovering. This place has helped.’ He waved an arm towards the house and the land surrounding it. ‘It’s absorbing his interest now. And that reminds me ... there’s just one flaw in Anya’s plan to marry him. He wants to live here and she doesn’t. She prefers London ... quite naturally. That’s all. Think about it. And now you’d better go in and have some breakfast.’

  There was no time to think immediately about Stan’s suggestion, because as soon as they entered the house Mary Maclaine appeared.

  ‘Now, my dear,’ she said to Nancy, ‘you must be longing to have a wash and something to eat. Let me show you where the bathroom is and then you must come to the morning room. Logan has phoned your brother. Don said he would come round straightaway with your fiancé.’

  In the well appointed bathroom Nancy washed her hands and face and brushed her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror it seemed to her that her face was thinner, its expression was more controlled, and her reflected eyes did not meet her gaze quite as frankly as usual.

  ‘You look like someone with a secret,’ she murmured critically, as she tried to look herself in the eyes. But it was no use. She could no longer face herself because she was afraid of what she might read in her own eyes.

  She turned away from the mirror quickly and leaving the bathroom made her way to the morning room, hoping that Don would not be too long. She would be very glad to see one of her own kin again. She was not so sure about meeting Rod, however.

  Neil was sitting, at the table with Mary Maclaine. He was spooning up cereal and chattering about his adventure to her. Anya was prowling up and down the room, her hands on her shapely hips. She was smoking, holding a long cigarette holder between her lips.

  As Nancy entered the room Mary looked up and then stood up.

  ‘Now I’m sure you feel much better. Sit down here while I serve you,’ she said warmly. ‘Would you like cereal and fruit juice first? Logan said I was to look after you and see that you had an adequate meal.’

  ‘Nancy is well able to look after herself, I should imagine,’ drawled Anya.

  She stopped prowling to stand by the table opposite to Nancy and stared down at her with narrowed hostile eyes. The hostility jolted Nancy, who stared back while she answered Mary.

  ‘I should like cereal, please, and tea if there is any,’ she said.

  Anya leaned her arms on the back of a chair and continued to stare. The smoke from her cigarette rose upwards in a straight grey stream. Behind her the curtains at the open window stirred slightly. Through the window Nancy could see the curved branches of larch trees.

  ‘I’ll go and get fresh tea,’ said Mary, and left the room, followed by Neil who was still chattering to her.

  ‘Have you been living on Lanmore long?’ Anya asked.

  ‘Since the end of April,’ replied Nancy as she scattered sugar on her cereal. She started to eat, conscious that Anya was still staring at her.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Yes, very much.’

  ‘I wonder whether it is the place you like ... or the laird?’ There was a wealth of insinuation underlying the seemingly harmless question and Nancy looked up quickly. Anya’s beautiful tawny eyes were still hostile as she drew on her cigarette.

  ‘You are surprised by my question?’ continued Anya silkily. ‘You have no need to answer it. Your feelings were clearly expressed on your face when you and Logan met yesterday at the Games.’

  Nancy drew in her breath sharply and put down the spoon she was using. She could eat no more. She wished fervently that Don would arrive and that she could leave the house.

  ‘Not hungry?’ asked Anya mockingly. ‘Mary will be disappointed. I’m sorry if I spoilt your appetite, but I thought I must make it clear to you that it would be unwise for you to develop a grand passion for Logan.’

  Nancy’s pride awoke and came to her rescue. Head held high, her brown eyes ablaze, she answered,

  ‘I’m not the sort of person who develops grand passions for men I scarcely know,’ she flashed. ‘And you seem to have forgotten an i
mportant point. I’m engaged to be married. Might I suggest that instead of concerning yourself about my affairs and the state of my emotions you would do better to pay more attention to your child?’

  Anya’s face hardened as she stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray.

  ‘You are presumptuous,’ she said coldly.

  ‘No more than-you are,’ retorted Nancy, who was beginning to feel better. ‘And in answer to your question as whether it’s the place I like or the laird, I can answer that it’s the place. Logan Maclaine means no more to me than ... the ... the ...’ She searched for a comparison and came up with a wild one ... ‘than the moon!’ she finished.

  ‘An interesting comparison, because that is exactly how I feel sometimes ... like the man in the moon, on the outside looking in.’ Logan’s voice was light and whimsical as he approached the table.

  Nancy cringed inwardly. How long had he been there? How much had he heard of the conversation? Across the table Anya’s eyes gleamed triumphantly. She turned to Logan and said,

  ‘Darling, at last! Do you feel better now? What can I get for you? Mary has gone to get more tea for Nancy, but there is coffee in the percolator.’

  ‘Coffee will do, and whatever there is that’s cooked,’ he replied carelessly as he sat down opposite Nancy. ‘What are you going to eat, Nancy?’

  She looked at him. He had bathed and shaved and had changed his clothes. His hair was damp and it curled a little. He was wearing a blue checked shirt and a red neckerchief was knotted round his neck inside the open collar of his shirt. As usual he looked casually elegant and his eyes were blank and impersonal under their lazy lids. ‘I’m not hungry, thank you,’ she replied.

  ‘I can see that Anya has a reason for dieting, but not you. Finish your cereal and then have some bacon and eggs or whatever else there is on the hotplate.’

  He must have heard the conversation, Nancy decided, and now he was being deliberately and coolly polite, behaving as if nothing unusual had been said.

  Anya set a full plate in front of him with a housewifely air especially created for the occasion.

  ‘I’m not going to force Nancy to eat if she doesn’t want to,’ she said. ‘And you are very unkind about my diet, darling.’