The House of the Laird (16 page)

As she went downstairs her knees continued to knock, although when she neared the bottom she felt she wanted to rush into the drawing-room and hurl herself into Iain
’
s arms and cling to him—to pour out to him her thankfulness that he was back.

But she knew that in no circumstances could she behave like that with the eyes of the other two women upon her, and she walked sedately into the room—sedately and, obviously, with almost painful shyness.

Aunt Horry was sitting in her usual comfortable chair near the fire, with the tea-equipage that had just been wheeled in drawn up close to her. Fiona, her
mink
coat cast carelessly over the back of a chair, was lying back gracefully in a corner of a Chesterfield, and on the rug in front of the fireplace stood Iain. He had taken up the attitude male members of a Victorian household used to take up, his hands clasped behind his back while the blaze from the fire wa
rm
ed him and threw into prominence his finely-held shoulders and his beautifully-shaped head and neck, and his eyes dwelt with a kind of complacent pleasure on the picture of the two women in front of him. Karen stood there in the doorway
w
atching him for possibly a full second before he noticed that the door had opened, and then his head went up with a quick movement and his eyes looked directly at her.

Karen had longed so much for this moment that she could only stand foolishly gazing back at him, her blue eyes dark and intense and uncertain in her noticeably pale face, her pale lips quivering a little—for she hadn
’
t bothered to add any more lipstick before she went downstairs, and she had bitten most of it off during the afternoon. Then Aunt Horry made a pleased sound as if welcoming her, and Iain took a few quick strides forward to greet her.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face. Desperation made her eyes darken still more as she fought to prevent herself from flinging herself upon him, and his eyes were quite inscrutable as they studied her.

He said gently:

“
Fiona told me you were not quite up to the journey this afternoon, and she suggested you stay behind. How are you feeling now?
”

Karen
’
s eyes widened for a moment, and she looked towards Fiona—who was, however, complacently smiling at her. Aunt Horry was busily pouring tea and she obviously had not heard, so Karen remained silent for a moment and then answered in a strange, tight little voice:

“
I
’
m perfectly all right. How—how are you?
”

He did not kiss her, he scarcely touched her, but his eyes
and
his look were gentle and caressing—as if, she thought, she, was so desperately fragile that anything in the nature of rough treatment might harm her. Then he put her into a chair near the fire, brought her a cup of tea when Aunt Horry had poured it out, and took up his position again in the centre of the rug, addressing his conversation to all three of them impartially.

Karen knew this was so utterly unlike anything she had imagined when he returned that it was as much as she could do to swallow even one mouthful of the hot buttered toast which was so plentiful on these occasions, and she all but scalded her throat through sipping hurriedly at her tea. But Mrs. Barrington lay back comfortably on her Chesterfield couch, and she was so plainly relaxed that Karen became more and more conscious of her own nervous movements. At the same time she was quite sure that whenever the lustrous golden eyes of the widow were turned in her direction there was something of a cat
’
s smug self-satisfaction under the sweeping lashes, and behind it there was that subdued sparkle of amusement, too. And it was amusement in connection with Karen
’
s own discomfiture.

The tea-time dragged itself out, with Iain giving them a humorous account of some of the things that had happened to him in London. Aunt Horry beamed up at him affectionately, and although the clock on the mantelpiece ticked away the minutes Fiona made no attempt to bestir herself or to think of dressing for the evening. Aubrey produced his pastel sketch of Karen, and it was duly admired, although Karen herself thought the admiration was a little perfunctory. Then at last Aunt Horatia said that she must go upstairs, while Aubrey returned the portrait to his temporary studio, and Fiona stood up with her languid, effortless grace and picked up her mink coat in preparation to depart.

But even then she did not depart hurriedly, and before she did so she looked towards Karen and smiled at her in a sweetly taunting fashion.

“
I know very well what Karen is thinking,
”
she said.
“
That I
’
ve had you a
ll
the afternoon, and now it
’
s her turn!
”
The smile became brilliant, almost seductive, as it swept round to Iain
’
s face.
“
So I
’
m going to leave you two love-birds alone together
!
”
And this time the mockery in her voice was unmistakable as she vanished gracefully from
t
he room.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

When they were a
lone Karen felt as if the power to say anything at all had suddenly deserted her, and she was so overwhelmingly conscious of Iain standing near to her on the rug that she was afraid to lift her eyes to his face lest the expression in them betrayed her.

Not that it should have mattered—they had been parted, and he had come back to her, and her bones were prepared to melt into water at one word or sign from him. But the door had been closed for nearly half a minute before he spoke to her, and then there was something more like polite concern in his voice than anything else as he said:

“
Are you sure you
’
re feeling quite all right now? I thought you looked terribly pale when you dame into the room before tea, and Fiona said you couldn
’
t have stood the car trip this afternoon. Did you have a bad headache, or something?
”

Karen lifted her eyes to him with a return of her astonishment, and she thought she understood why Fiona had made that excuse for her. Fiona had not wanted to be accompanied by her that afternoon, and returning with Iain alone in the car had been the first opportunity to be alone with him that she had deliberately made since her return from Italy.

“
No—there was really nothing wrong with me at all, only—only it looked like snow
—”

It sounded such a feeble excuse, but she had to say something. Fiona had already said quite a lot in an apparently convincing manner, and there seemed little point in trying to pin-point her as a distorter of the truth.

“
I see,
”
he said quietly.

“
And Aunt Horry thought it might be best
—”

“
Oh, quite!
”
he agreed, with greater emphasis.
“
We don
’
t want to risk your catching any more chills, and although I was disappointed I understood immediately. Although, as it happened, the afternoon turned out to be quite fine after all.
”

“
But—you were disappointed?
”
She seemed
to clutch at this like a drowning man clutching at a straw, and he was amazed to see the look of sudden eager hopefulness which swept into her eyes as she turned them up to him again. He crossed over swiftly to her chair and sat down on the arm of it, possessing himself of both her hands and holding them tightly within his own.

“
Of course I was! Why, darling. I
’
ve been simply living for the moment when I
’
d be back with you again! You know that.
”

“
H-have you?
”
But her lips was quivering all
a
t once. She turned her face from him in order to hide it, and he could feel her whole slender body shaking with fiercely restrained emotion. But it was heaven, at least, to her to have him near to her again.
“
I wanted to come and meet you—I wanted to come and meet you so
badly
—
Y
ou mustn
’
t have any doubts about that!
”

“
I haven
’
t,
”
he assured her, while his arms went round her, and at last he was holding her tight.
“
But all the same, I did think your welcome was just a little repressed—I wasn
’
t even quite certain that you were glad to see me ba
ck
!
”

“
Not certain?
”
She put back her head and gazed up at him as if this was the most amazing piece of Intelligence she had ever heard, and her eyes were enormous and the dark pupils distended.

“
Well, you didn
’
t exactly hurl yourself at me, did I you?
”
—smiling gently down at her—
“
and I haven
’
t so far been permitted even to kiss you!
”

“
But I wanted to hurl myself at you!
”
She made the confession while her fingers clung to him, and her eyes implored him to believe her.
“
But how could I do so in front of your aunt and Mrs. Barrington? And I
’
ve been thinking all through tea that perhaps you—perhaps you didn
’
t want to kiss me
!”

“
What!
”
he exclaimed, and she thought that his face whitened with the sudden intensity of his feelings.
“
Not want to kiss you when I
’
ve been separated from you for a fortnight, and craving to get back to you? What sort of man in love do you think I am?
”
And before she could draw breath he had stooped his head swiftly and she could feel the hard warmth of his lips on hers. She gave a little gasp of pure happiness and wound her arms about his neck, surrendering her own
li
ps without any reservations whatsoever.

The kiss was the most satisfying they had so far exchanged, and at the end of it they were both pale, and unable to speak for several seconds. Then she felt his hand caressingly stroking her short fair hair, and he breathed huskily, close to her ear:

“
So you really have missed me?
”

“
I
’
ve been counting the minutes until you returned! I was terrified lest something happened, and you were unable to get back when you said.
”

“
Foolish darling.
”
But his eyes were full of tenderness as they gazed at her.
“
As if I would have let anything prevent me!
...
And hasn
’
t it occurred to you that I
’
ve missed you, too? Missed you so much that I could never even begin to tell you just how much!
”

“
Oh, Iain!
”
she breathed.

He held her so closely that for all too brief a while it was exactly as she had imagined it would be when he came back to Auchenwiel, and the feeling of hunger in the arms that held her corresponded exactly with her own craving to be in them. While he held her every doubt she had even entertained vanished like morning mist before the first warmth of the sunshine, and she knew that she was completely and almost deliriously happy.

And when he let her go from him at last for a moment it was only in order that he could produce something from his pocket which he handed to her. When she saw that it was a ring-case the breath caught in her throat.

“
Well, open it!
”
he said, gently, beside her.

The ring-case was round, and of red morocco, and against the whiteness of her fingers it had a striking beauty all its own. But when she shakily snapped it open and looked down at the ring lying on a bed of velvet, the sheer beauty of the large and flawless opal surrounded by tiny diamonds drew from her another gasp.

“
Somehow it seemed the only really perfect stone for you,
”
Iain told her, while he watched her face, with its expression of unconcealed delight.
“
You
’
re not superstitious about opals, are you? Because if you are we
’
ll change it.
”

“
Oh, no!
”
Somehow she managed to control the quiver of breathless delight in her voice. I think it
’
s absolutely perfect!
”

“
And you don
’
t want me to change it?

“
Oh, no!
”

Karen felt as if her heart swelled within her as she surveyed her ring—the first outward and visible symbol of their belonging—and when he removed it from its case and slipped it on to the appropriate finger of her left hand she felt also as if her heart missed a beat. The fit was so perfect that it was
astonishing—
although he
admitted
to her afterwards that he had possessed himself of one of her small gloves and taken it to London—but it was
a
purely fleeting astonishment, because he carried the slender-fingered hand up to his lips and softly kissed the ring.