Clandara (2 page)

Robert. Robert must see that what that foolish, headstrong child was asking was impossible. The Earl did not look at Katharine as she passed him. He opened the door for her and she went out without a word. He slammed the door on her and suddenly, intensely irritable, he turned angrily upon the silent witness sitting in her chair.

“If I had known, madam,” he snapped, “that our convenient alliance would result in Katharine thinking of a Macdonald as a husband I would sooner have fought your family for the rest of my life. How dare that ruffianly cousin of yours aspire to my daughter!” He had never liked his second wife; as a young woman in her early thirties Margaret Macdonald had been silent and unattractive. As the despised wife and ignored step-mother she was a source of constant irritation to him. It infuriated the Earl to see her sitting in the late Countess's chair at the dining-table, or sewing by the west window in the Green Salon as Katharine's mother used to do. Her presence was an affront to him; he despised her and he resented the necessity which had forced him into a miserable travesty of a marriage.

“He is a ruffian and a scoundrel, do you hear?” he repeated, suddenly wishing that his wife would give him the satisfaction of a quarrel.

The Countess got up; she folded her needlework and put it away.

“James Macdonald is my cousin,” she said quietly. “I cannot listen while you insult him to my face.”

“Are you suggesting,” the Earl demanded, “that he is a fit husband for my daughter?”

The Countess was very pale; the Earl seldom attacked her on the subject of her family, or, indeed, discussed anything with her, even in anger, if he could help it, but on the few occasions when he was angry she inevitably burst into tears. It was a weakness which made her hate him all the more.

“James is the bravest man I've ever known,” she said. “He has never had a serious thought for a woman in his head until now. If he courts Katharine you can be sure it is because he loves her. And if they marry—” Her voice broke and the humiliating tears began to gather. “If they do marry she will be very lucky!” And before he could answer her she ran out of the room.

Katharine had not dared to disobey her father, but she sent one of the house servants out to find her brother and bring him to her room. Robert Fraser was the elder by five years; he was a tall fair man with a gentle face and regular features, enhanced by eyes as piercing and blue as his sister's. He was liked and respected as a man whose word was his bond, a serious, just and responsible landlord, better tempered than the old Earl. He loved only two things in his life and that love was typical of his whole nature. He loved his home and he adored his sister Katharine.

She ran into his arms and he held her, comforting and soothing as if she were a little girl again and he the older brother who had so often picked her up after a fall.

“Kate, Kate, dry your tears … What is it, my sweet one?”

“It's Father! I told him I want to get married and he has refused – refused finally and absolutely!”

“Married?” Robert held her away from him in surprise. “I knew nothing of it! Why didn't you say something to me? We've never had secrets before.”

“Oh, Robert, Robert, I didn't tell you because you'd have said just the same as Father. Anyway, I'm telling you now because you've got to help me!”

“Who is it?” her brother asked.

Katharine turned away from him and went to the window overlooking the moors beyond the castle walls.

“James Macdonald.”

“What!” Robert was upon her and he caught her arm and swung her round facing him. “James Macdonald of Dundrenan! Kate, are you out of your wits? Marry him? Good God above, I didn't know you had even
seen
him!”

“We met in France,” she said. “He knew Cousin Marie well and she introduced us. Robert, please listen to me first before you condemn him. I saw him every day for months, nearly six months we were together, and he's the most wonderful man, Robert, the most gentle, tender man … I love him so,” she said and her voice trembled. “I love him more than I believed it possible to love anyone. If I am kept apart from him I'll never have another happy moment. Please, my sweet and darling brother, help me now. I have not one friend in the world in this if you turn against me too.”

“Oh, Kate,” he whispered, “Kate, what have you done? … What are you asking of me? Do you know what this man is? Not just as a Macdonald whom we've hated for centuries, but in his own right he's got the worst name in the Highlands. How could you have loved him? How could you have let yourself be duped?”

“I am not duped,” she said fiercely. “He loves me as much as I love him. And he's not a man on whom that love sits lightly, I can tell you. He has no friends in this business, either. But he's willing to defy his family for my sake. He's willing to do anything if only you and Father will receive him.”

“Father will never do that,” Robert said slowly. “A match between you is unthinkable.”

“He threatened to send me away to Bavaria to a convent,” Katharine said. “I didn't argue with him any more. I knew it was no use. But I swear to you, Robert, that I won't give up James. If we're not allowed to marry I shall run away with him.”

She saw her brother's eyes turn hard, and the set of his mouth was very like the Earl's as she had seen it less than an hour before.

“You will do nothing of the kind,” he said coldly. “If you ever speak of such a thing again I will personally have you confined to your rooms until a safe place can be found for you.” And then a thought came to him which changed his colour from white to red. “Has he seduced you?” he said. “Katharine, tell me the truth … don't be afraid …”

“Afraid!” She laughed angrily. “God's life, I wouldn't dare confess it if he had! But you can rest easy. James has never touched me. And I can promise you that in the course of those six months he had the opportunity!”

“Thank God for that!” Robert put his arm around her shoulders. “I was only so afraid for you that something had happened. I would have killed him, you know that.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you love me. That's why you've got to help me in spite of yourself. I'll accept that you hate James. I'll even accept that you may have some cause. But I love him, Robert. If I don't have him, my heart will break. And so will his. Please help us. Speak to Father. Agree with him, say anything, but at least let James come here and plead his own case.”

“And do you really think that that will make a difference?” he asked her slowly.

She looked at him and smiled.

“I know the man I love,” she answered. “Nothing in heaven or hell will stop him getting what he wants. He will win you and Father over.”

“Very well, then. I shall speak to him, but I promise nothing. You'll have to be patient, Kate.”

“Dear Robert.” Katharine put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Go and see Father now and ask if I may go out riding tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?” he asked her.

She smiled as she answered him.

“Because James is expecting to meet me at Loch Ness. We have been meeting there for the past month. I want to be able to tell him he can come to Clandara!”

The following morning the Countess was at her usual place in the Green Salon, sewing one of the dozens of samplers with which she occupied her time. She knew every sound of the Castle; its routine never varied, and when she heard the noise of horses in the courtyard she left her chair and went to the window to watch.

Below her she saw Katharine, accompanied by her old servant Angus, mounting up on a fine chestnut. Katharine rode well; she handled the fresh horse as if it were a placid old cob. She did everything well; sometimes Margaret Clandara reflected that life was unjust in the distribution of gifts, giving so much to some and so little to others. Beauty, grace, character … her step-daughter had them all. She must have needed them and more, she thought dryly, to have captured James Macdonald. She had not seen him for five years, not since the day he stood behind her in the Chapel at Clandara on the day she married the Earl, and almost the last thing she could remember as she went to the altar to take her vows was the expression of anger in his eyes. Such dark eyes, as black as pitch, but with that curious red light in them which made them seem almost brown when he was angry. His grandmother had been a Spaniard, and she had given her colouring to all the Macdonalds except Margaret, who was only a cousin. James had not wanted her to marry the head of the Frasers. James had not wanted to make peace with them or set foot in their house. And he had never known that he was the object of his insignificant cousin's undying love. Margaret had not blamed him. He was the kind of man she was content to worship silently, allowing herself to imagine that all the shameful acts of which he was accused were committed with her instead of other women. But it was only a fantasy and she was a practical girl who did not expect the secret longings of a plain and elder cousin to become reality. And then at last, when she was resigned to spinsterhood, the offer came for her from the Earl of Clandara. There was a time after she was first married when she had tried hard to make herself agreeable to him. He was a man she could have cared for, indeed her empty heart and untouched body were only too eager to respond to love if the opportunity were offered her. But that opportunity never came. She had been exchanged in a treaty and married with pomp to a man who walked out of her bedroom on their wedding night with the remark that he was sure she would prefer to be alone. And nothing had changed between them since. Her efforts to please him and her one timid overture at affection had all been repulsed with coldness and scorn, and now she hated him as she had never believed it possible to hate another human being. Not just for his harshness and indifference, but for the virginity which made her a mockery in his eyes and her own. She would never forgive him until the day she died. Leaning forward, she saw Katharine move out towards the castle gate, followed by the old servant on a sturdy grey mare, and she knew suddenly that she was going to meet James Macdonald. The Earl had lost. Margaret began to laugh, holding her hands to her mouth to muffle the sound; she laughed until she shook and then the laughter changed to the most bitter weeping.

Katharine had been riding for nearly an hour, with her personal servant Angus Fraser trotting a few paces behind. He was an old man who had been her guardian on riding and walking trips since childhood and she could hear him muttering and cursing under his breath as he followed. For the last month he had escorted her on this journey to Loch Ness and been the unwilling witness of her meetings with James Macdonald. She had made him swear an oath to keep it secret until she decided to tell her father, and after the first few mornings when the old man stood with his pistol cocked, watching his mistress and her lover from behind a hillock, he had come to the astonishing conclusion that James Macdonald meant the Lady Katharine no harm. She half turned in the saddle and called out to him, laughing.

“Stop cursing, Angus, you'll have some beastie putting the horse's foot in a hole if they hear you muttering on so!”

“It's no' my cursing that offends the beasties, milady,” he called back. “It's the sight o' that murderin' Macdonald holding speech with ye and putting his black hands upon ye!”

His love for his mistress and his abhorrence of her actions had so upset the worthy Angus that he had been caught stealing the Earl's whisky and severely reprimanded. As he had been stealing it undetected for over thirty years, it was a sign of extreme perturbation that he grew careless.

“You're a peeping old woman!” Katharine retorted. “If you don't like what you see, cease your spying, you old rascal. This time you can stay here by the loch road. And don't let me find you one inch nearer.”

She touched her horse's sides and broke into a canter down the rough path that ran by the loch waters. The Loch itself was smooth and blue, its surface shadowed by the majestic mountains that rose up from its farther shore. The sun was shining and the sharp clear air stung her face and as the horse responded to the wind it broke into a gallop; as they turned the bend in the rough road, she saw another horseman coming fast towards her. She called out to him and her cry was caught by the wind and torn away, and then they met and the man riding a big black horse pulled it up on to its haunches and threw himself down almost before the animal was back on its feet. He came and lifted her from the saddle and she abandoned herself into his arms.

“James. Oh, James, beloved …”

He was exceptionally tall for a Highlander; his shoulders were very broad and his strength was a legend. When he gathered Katharine close to him, he lifted her off the ground. His dark face came down and his hard mouth pressed on her lips; she felt the muscles in his arms contract and marvelled at the power in them, and then perversely rejoiced because he was always so careful not to hurt her.

“Katharine! My bonny, beautiful Katharine. I rode like the devil to get here in time.”

“So I see,” she said gently. His splendid horse was lathered and sweating, its flanks heaved. “You ride too hard, my love. The poor beast is worn out.”

“I'm an impatient man,” James Macdonald answered. “And that's the least of my faults.”

She reached up and touched the swarthy cheek and immediately he turned her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You have no faults in my eyes, James. Come, darling, tether the horses and let us sit down. I have some news for you and it won't wait a moment longer!”

They walked upward through the short grass and he found a place where the heather grew thick and spread his cloak for her.

He tried to take her in his arms again but she held him back and whispered: “Wait, James, wait for a moment, let me speak first. Don't you want to hear my news?”