Heir to Glengyle

by Miriam Macgregor

  ‘We’ll catch the first available domestic flight to Palmerston North—’

  Cathie cut in, ‘And that’s where my parents and Gran will meet her and take her to Levin where we live. Gran has a flat built on to our house.’

  His jaw became set in a determined line. ‘On the contrary, she will stay with me until she gets over her jet-lag, and until my parents have come from Taupo to meet her. Don’t forget that my father is her stepson, and I’m unable to see the necessity to send him an extra thirty miles to Levin.’ He paused, then added, ‘Also, I’d like her to see my factory.’

  Cathie’s brows rose as she sent him an inquiring glance. ‘Factory?’

  ‘It’s just one that Dad and I started years ago. When he retired he took Mother to live at Taupo where they spend most of their time fishing on the lake.’

  She waited for more explanation about the factory, but it did not appear to be forthcoming. Then, as she had no intention of prying, she changed the subject by asking carefully, ‘There would be someone in your—living quarters—to care for Amy?’

  ‘I live alone in the house I took over when my parents went to Taupo—but there’s Lola next door. She works part-time, which enables her to keep an eye on my place.’

  ‘You mean, as a housekeeper?’

  ‘I suppose you could call it that,’ he replied nonchalantly. ‘At least, the place always looks clean and tidy, and I’m never short of a clean shirt.’

  ‘But if she has a part-time job her hours might not fit in—especially in the mornings,’ Cathie pointed out, visualising a comfortably built woman, possibly about her mother’s age.

  ‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said, as though that was all it would take to make Lola change her work schedule.

  Cathie took an unobtrusive peep at the classical lines of his profile, which featured a strong jaw, a straight nose and a well-shaped forehead. This man knows what he wants and is determined to get it, she decided. He knows where he’s going and is sure to get there. Yet there’s a tender side to his nature. He’s concerned for Amy. He’s even concerned about the problems his long-dead ancestors had to face. Not that he can do anything about those people or events, but the knowledge frustrates him. Nevertheless it all adds up to the fact that he’s one who cares for other people.

  His voice cut into her thoughts. ‘So you’ll do it?’

  She was momentarily nonplussed. ‘Do it—? Do what—?’

  His frown indicated impatience. ‘You’ll do your best to persuade Amy that the trip would not be the traumatic experience she imagines. Isn’t that what this conversation is about?’

  ‘Yes—I suppose so. When would you expect to leave?’

  ‘As soon as Elspeth can pack a couple of suitcases for her—and before she changes her mind about the entire project.’

  ‘It’s a pity Elspeth couldn’t go with her—’ Cathie began.

  He cut in, ‘As I’ve already explained, it’s quite unnecessary. But apart from that fact Elspeth would not leave her husband. He works in Crieff, cares for the garden at Glengyle, and they’ll look after the place while Amy is away.’

  ‘So my added persuasion appears to be all you need.’

  ‘That’s right. Nothing more, nothing less.’

  A sudden thought caused her to ask, ‘I presume you will have checked that Amy has a passport?’

  ‘Of course. Naturally it was the first question I asked. Fortunately she took a trip to Canada with Elspeth and it is still valid.’

  ‘So that apart from her own decision there shouldn’t be any obstacles in the way.’

  His attitude was positive and sufficiently determined to forbid further argument on the subject, therefore she said, ‘Very well—I’ll do my best to convince Amy there’ll be little or no hassle on the flight.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He sounded relieved.

  ‘After that I presume you’d like me to get down the road, as we say at home?’

  He frowned as though pondering the question. ‘Well—at least you’ll be able to become acquainted with each other in New Zealand, provided you’re successful in persuading her, of course.’

  ‘Am I right in assuming that you’ve really tried, but have got nowhere?’ she queried, wondering how much success she herself could expect.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you she’d used the difficulties of her arthritis as an excuse?’ He turned to regard her as a sudden thought appeared to strike him. ‘In any case, I presume you have a job you must return to?’

  She sighed, realising she’d have to admit to being unemployed, and although she hated doing so she said, ‘At the moment I haven’t a job. I’ll look for one when I return.’ Then she hastened to explain, ‘Since I left school I’ve worked in an antique shop in Palmerston North.’

  His mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. ‘Don’t tell me—let me guess. You got the push for dropping something of great value.’

  ‘No, I did not.’ She flared at him angrily. ‘Why must you continually think the worst of me?’

  His face became serious as he admitted, ‘I don’t know. It’s something you do to me.’ He turned to stare at her, his brown eyes roving over her face as though searching for the answer in her clear complexion. ‘So what happened?’ he demanded.

  She sighed while recalling the disappointment of losing her job, then her expression became bleak as she said, ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to dig up a theory of your own?’

  ‘Unless you tell me I’ll definitely believe the worst.’

  She turned to glare at him. ‘Mr MacGregor, there are times when I find you completely obnoxious.’ But as she looked at his handsome features she knew the statement to be a lie.

  ‘Is that so, Miss Campbell? Despite your hot words and flare of temper I’m still interested in learning how you lost your job.’

  ‘It was quite simple,’ she said, deciding that there was no point in being secretive because Amy would be sure to ask similar questions. ‘My employer was a middle-aged widow who decided to get married again. Her new husband is an antique dealer from Auckland, therefore she packed up her entire stock, closed the shop and moved north.’

  ‘But with no suggestion of taking you with her?’

  ‘No. Her new husband has a daughter who has taken my place, so it left me high and dry and without a job, but still with a strong desire to handle antiques.’ Her face brightened as she added, ‘In England I went into every antique shop I saw. They were fascinating.’

  His gaze rested upon her mouth then moved to the column of her throat as he said, ‘I’m curious to know what there is about antiques that gives you so much pleasure.’

  ‘I don’t know—unless it’s a feeling for the past. When I hold an old plate or ornament I’m conscious of a strange longing to know about the person who made it, and the people who used it. What were they like? Where did they live?’ She fell silent for several moments before adding, ‘It’s different from your own feeling for the past, which seems to give you only pain.’

  ‘That’s because it involves people rather than objects,’ he said.

  ‘The people have passed away, whereas the objects are still here to be cherished,’ she pointed out.

  His brow creased as though something puzzled him, and at last he said, ‘Strangely, at home I don’t give the past a second thought. Only since I’ve been here has it affected me.’

  ‘Are you trying to say you’re a different person at home?’ she asked, a small smile betraying her doubt.

  ‘Entirely different,’ he retorted abruptly.

  ‘I must say it’s difficult to believe,’ she said, then added with forced sweetness, ‘That’s the trouble with first impressions—they’re inclined to cling for ever more. I’m unlikely to get rid of—’ Her words dwindled away.

  ‘Your first impression of me?’ he cut in. ‘Well, I don’t suppose there’s any degree of importance attached to that fact,’ he added while turning the ignition key.

  Nevertheless his jaw had become set as they left the paperw
eight factory’s parking area, and while Cathie expected the drive home to be taken in silence it proved to be otherwise. On the contrary, Baird chatted amicably, mainly, she suspected, to prove that he couldn’t care less what her lasting impression of himself would be.

  When they reached Glengyle Amy regarded them anxiously, obviously trying to decide whether the atmosphere between them was still frigid, or whether a thaw had set in. ‘You took your time in collecting one suitcase,’ she observed.

  Baird spoke nonchalantly. ‘We visited the paperweight factory.’ He then indicated the suitcase. ‘I presume this goes into the room next to mine?’

  ‘Yes.’ Amy turned to Cathie. ‘Baird will take you upstairs and show you where you’re to sleep, dear.’

  He strode ahead of her, leading the way to a small but cosy room with a dormer window. But before she could gaze at the view stretching below it her attention was caught by a single solid brass bedstead, and the bow-fronted mahogany Scottish chest of drawers. On it sat a Victorian toilet mirror, while nearby was a rocking chair.

  ‘Like it?’ he asked, a smile hovering about his mobile lips.

  ‘I’ll love sleeping in that bed,’ she admitted, noticing that the blue and silver-grey bedspread matched the curtains hanging at the dormer window.

  ‘Just don’t get yourself settled into it for too long,’ he advised in clipped tones. ‘No doubt you’ll soon notice that this house is full of antiques, but unfortunately they can do nothing to help Amy’s arthritis. Do you understand?’

  She nodded without speaking.

  ‘Therefore I’ll rely on you to do your best, and as soon as possible. That is also understood?’

  His dictatorial manner riled her, and although she knew he was concerned on Amy’s behalf she swung round to face him, at the same time making no secret of her resentment. ‘Now you listen to me, Baird. You’ve had your turn at persuading Amy, but with little or no success. Now it’s my turn. However, I have no intention of rushing into the job. I’ll attack it as I see fit and when the opportunity presents itself.’

  His name had slipped out accidentally, and she could only hope he hadn’t noticed it, or the warmth that had crept into her cheeks.

  ‘OK—but I’d like you to realise that I can’t dally round this place for much longer. I must get home to the factory, therefore I’ll leave it to you—Cathie.’

  So he had noticed her slip. And again he’d mentioned the factory, but still she had no intention of showing her interest in it. Instead she said, ‘Do you mind if I hang up my dresses before I start?’

  He took the hint and left her.

  Later, when she went downstairs and was able to peep into various rooms, she realised that Baird had not exaggerated when he’d said the house contained numerous antiques. The furniture was either mahogany or walnut, although it was the porcelain that really caught her eye, and she was admiring beautiful vases of Royal Worcester when Amy’s voice spoke from behind her.

  ‘Ah, there you are, dear. Come and sit beside me. I want to know about my sister. Does she keep good health?’

  ‘Not really. She grumbles about getting older—’

  ‘We’re both doing that,’ Amy sighed while leading the way into the living room where Baird sat reading a newspaper. ‘We’re both now in our seventies.’

  Baird lowered his newspaper. ‘Seventy-what, Amy?’ he queried.

  ‘Seventy mumble-mumble,’ she retorted sharply. ‘It’s a secret.’

  ‘It worries Gran,’ Cathie said, seizing the opportunity to drive this point home. ‘She’s afraid she’ll never see you again.’ She went on to describe her grandmother’s poor state of health, leaving no detail unmentioned.

  Amy became thoroughly agitated. ‘Oh, dear—I had no idea she was quite so poorly.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘I must go and tell Elspeth about her.’ She dabbed at a tear.

  As she left the room Baird glared at Cathie across the top of his newspaper. ‘Did you have to lay it on quite so thickly?’ he growled. ‘Now you’ve really upset her. I expected you to use gentle persuasion, rather than all this drama that makes it sound as if death’s door is about to open for her sister.’

  Cathie became defensive. ‘She asked me about Gran’s health. Did you expect me to lie to her?’

  ‘But—all that talk about bronchial troubles that could be heading towards emphysema—and the doctor’s warning about not risking bad colds which could allow pneumonia to set in—surely you were exaggerating?’

  ‘Why should I exaggerate when it’s all true? Besides, it explains why she’s been unable to come over here to visit Amy. Levin has a mild climate, and at least she’s cosy and warm in the flat my father has had built on to our house for her,’ Cathie said.

  ‘The thought of the dizzy spells seemed to worry Amy.’

  ‘They caused Gran to be put on blood-pressure pills, and probably the heart pills as well,’ Cathie said, a worried frown creasing her normally smooth brow. ‘Obviously, Gran hasn’t admitted any of these things to Amy. She’d know they’d worry her.’

  He eyed her sternly. ‘And now you’ve let the cat out of the bag.’

  She felt bewildered. ‘I’ve been doing as you asked, yet you’re annoyed with me—not that there’s anything new about that state of affairs.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to upset her. I don’t like seeing Amy unhappy.’

  A laugh of derision escaped her. ‘Huh—hark at who’s talking. Don’t you think your previous horrible behaviour towards me will have upset her? Or are you too chauvinistic to admit it?’

  ‘Amy would understand,’ he declared with confidence. ‘She will have lived with my grandfather long enough to realise how a MacGregor feels towards the Campbell clan.’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ Cathie’s voice became deceptively honeyed as she forced a smile. ‘Nevertheless I doubt that she’s silly enough to allow her mind to wallow in the past—at least not like one person I could mention.’ Her smile faded as she added, ‘Nor do I believe your grandfather made a habit of it.’

  He frowned as anger caused a hot denial to spring to his lips. ‘I have not been wallowing—’ Then he stopped to think about it for several moments until he scowled and made a reluctant admission. ‘Yes—I do believe I have been indulging in a hate session over the clan’s woes. In future I’ll endeavour to keep it under control.’

  She looked at him with understanding. ‘You really feel so deeply about what happened all those years ago? In that case I doubt that you’ll ever be able to expel it from your mind completely. Perhaps if you just keep it private—especially your dislike of me.’

  ‘You’d prefer that I not dislike you?’ The question was put in a tentative manner.

  Her chin rose as she stared at him haughtily. ‘Baird MacGregor, I couldn’t care less about your opinion of myself—but if you insist upon coming at me with both guns blazing Amy will be really upset. She’ll guess that any semblance of friendship between us is quite phoney.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll recall that I did hold out a hand of friendship, but you brushed it away.’

  ‘That was because the offer didn’t ring true. I feared that, as I was a Campbell, you might offer friendship with one hand and stab me in the back with the other. A fitting revenge for Glencoe even at this late date.’

  He sprang to his feet, his face contorted with fury as he snarled, ‘How dare you suggest I’d do anything so outrageous? Do you honestly believe I’d commit such a monstrous act?’

  ‘Well, not literally, of course, but I know your dislike of me lies quite deeply.’ The knowledge of this seemed to hurt.

  ‘At least allow me to say I appreciate the effort you’re making with Amy. I hope you’ll believe that,’ he added with sincerity.

  Her hazel eyes widened slightly. ‘I haven’t done anything yet. Amy asked me about Gran and I merely told her the truth. I didn’t even mention a word about travel.’

  ‘Ah—but you caused her to think. You aimed at the heart, using your grandmother as a
weapon. That was the clever part.’

  She laughed. ‘That wasn’t clever. It was merely family unity at work.’ There was no need to tell him about the sisters’ fetish about family, she decided.

  * * *

  Next morning Amy appeared to be thoughtful. She said little at the breakfast table, and by mid-morning she was beginning to yawn. ‘I hardly slept a wink,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘For most of the night I lay thinking about my sister. The thought of never seeing her again made me cry, and now I feel a wreck.’

  Baird spoke eagerly. ‘Ah, but you made a decision. You’ll come with me to New Zealand, and you’ll stay in my house until you’ve met my parents? I’ve already told you that Lola from next door will help you with anything you need.’

  Amy said, ‘Yes, you’re right. It went round and round in my mind, and I did come to a decision. I decided that if I go to New Zealand with you it will be only on one condition.’ The expression on her face had become stubborn.

  Baird frowned. ‘Condition? What do you mean?’

  ‘I want Cathie to be with me—on the flight and in your house. No doubt this Lola person is kindly and capable, but she’s a stranger, whereas Cathie is—family.’

  ‘Cathie herself has suggested this to you?’ he queried silkily. ‘Perhaps it was while helping you dress this morning?’

  ‘Indeed she did not,’ Amy retorted. ‘I have not discussed it with her. Are you saying you object to her being with us?’

  Baird stared at her but remained silent.

  Cathie laid a hand on Amy’s arm, then leaned forward to say in a low voice, ‘Can’t you see that he doesn’t want me in his house?’

  ‘Why not?’ Amy demanded sharply.

  ‘Have you forgotten that I’m a—a Campbell?’

  Amy became impatient. ‘This is sheer nonsense. My dear, you are already in his house.’

  Cathie felt confused. ‘His house? But—didn’t his father inherit this house?’

  ‘No, he did not,’ Amy declared bluntly. ‘Baird became the heir to the Glengyle Estate, not his father.’ She turned to him in a weary manner. ‘Why don’t you explain what happened? I’m feeling too tired to try and sort it out.’