The Tartan Touch (21 page)

It was a strangely silent meal, with no one but ourselves there to make any conversation.

“Shall I help you to clear away the dishes?” Andrew asked when we had finished.

I shook my head. “I prefer to do my own work,” I said with dignity.

He shrugged his shoulders and left me to it. I heard
h
im go into his office, slamming the door behind him, and I wished I had been looking at him when he had made his offer, for it had just occurred to me that Andrew
was shy!

I washed the dishes in a dream. If I had been an experienced woman, I reflected, I would have known what to do
.
As it was, I had to trust to my instincts and they were poor things when it came to judging a man like Andrew!

When I knocked at the door of his office he rose to greet me, looking mildly surprised that I should interrupt him when he was working. He had an open ledger on his desk and a pen in his hand, but I doubted that he had written so much as a single word.

“Yes?” he said.

I wrestled with myself to find the right words to say what I had decided to say to him. The silence grew between us and I could feel the colour mounting in my cheeks, making me more tongue-tied than ever.

Andrew sighed. “Can’t we talk about it in the morning?” he asked wearily.

I shook my head.

Andrew sat down at his desk. “Very well, then,” he said, “What do you want to do?”

I took a step forward. “It isn’t as easy as that!” I exclaimed.

“Why not?” he countered.

“Because it
depends
.”
I tried to explain. I gave him an agitated look. “I think you married an awfully stupid woman,” I hurried on. “Do you mind?”

Andrew stared at me. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“I thought you wanted to marry Mary,” I blurted out.

“I intended you to think that—at first,” Andrew confirmed. “Once you were here, I thought she’d tell you about Frank herself.”

“She did,” I said weakly. “Only I wouldn’t listen. I wasn’t thinking about her, you see,” I mumbled, “I was thinking about what you wanted
!”

“Oh?” said Andrew, deeply interested.

“Well, you must see it was more important!” I said impatiently.

“I can,” he agreed immediately. “But I thought you liked Mary?”

“I do!” I protested vehemently
.

“That’s what I thought
!”
Andrew drawled.

I swallowed. “I—I think I’ll go to bed,” I said.

Andrew rose elegantly to his feet, the merest hint of a smile about his eyes. “Alone?” he asked.

“Of course alone!” I said with a fierce dignity, “Haven’t I always been alone?”

“I don’t suppose your father was much company,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t quite what I meant.”

“I wonder you should mention my father!” I said indignantly. “When you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word of sympathy and with him not yet buried. A fine thing!”

“It didn’t seem that words were going to be much help to you,” he said reasonably, the smile deepening as he looked at me.

’“Did you intend to help me?” I asked suspiciously. “I thought it was all so that you could get your own way and have a legal say in Mary’s future?”

“I think I might have found another way to do that.”

I sniffed. “I thought you despised me,” I told him.

“Did you?” he said with remarkable calm
.

“As you despised all widows and orphans!” I went on awfully.

“Oh, my word!” He threw back his
h
ead and laughed. “I wonder you agreed to come with me! Why did you, Kirsty?”

I blushed. “That’s my business!” I said.

The smile danced in his eyes. “Was it the same reason that you bought your shirts made of the Fraser tartan?” he asked slyly.

“How was I to know—” I began in high indignation.

“Oh, Kirsty!” he exclaimed.

“Well, perhaps I did know,” I admitted reluctantly. “But you might not have recognised it! Mary didn’t!”

He laughed out loud. “And what would have been the point of that?” he wanted to
know.

“I—I’d begun to
like
being Mrs. Fraser,” I stammered, ashamed.

“Kirsty,
darling
!”

“Even on a temporary basis,” I added, bitterly aware that the hurt I had suffered on that score was plain in my voice.

“But, Kirsty—”

“That’s why I didn’t understand,” I said pathetically. “I knew that a man has a need for a woman, but I couldn’t, you see, when I thought you were waiting for Mary.”

He took me roughly into his arms and I thought I had never known such bliss
.

“My word, what kind of a man do you think I am?” he demanded.

I chuckled. “Do you want me to answer that?”

“Perhaps not!” he said thoughtfully, “I can see I shall have to explain everything to you in words of one syllable! Oh, my word!”

“I told you I’m a daft female!” I said fondly.

“
I won’t hear a word against the woman I love!” he smiled at me.

“Oh,” I muttered, bereft of all speech.

It was a very satisfactory experience to be kissed by Andrew. I doubt but his practice on the local girls stood him in very good stead, for I had had no practice at all and did nothing to help him.

“Oh,
Andrew
!”
I breathed.

He grinned at me. “That,” he said, “was worth waiting for!”

I wriggled away from him, aware that I was on the point of losing my head—and I wasn’t quite ready for that.

“Andrew, you didn’t mean to marry me for
ever
in Scotland, did you?”

“I don’t know,” he said frankly.

“Then—then why?”

He looked embarrassed. “You were so alone,
mo
ghaoil
,” he
said simply.

“And that was enough for you to rush in and rescue me?” I asked him.

“Well, it had its attractions!” he said.

“
What?” I insisted. “I wasn’t even grateful!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said.

“Hmm,” I murmured. I felt quite uppity now that he had kissed me. “I know I’m not as bonny as Mary, of course—”

“No,” he agreed, a little too quickly for my vanity. “But I’m not
bad
-l
ooking!” I continued crossly. “So
why
?”

He
smiled
again
.
“I don’t think it would be proper for
me to tell you that,” he said.

I could have stamped my foot with rage.
“
But I want
to know!” I said.

“So I see,” he teased me.

“Then tell me!” I commanded him
.

“You were so alone,” he said.

“Is that all?” I asked, disappointed.

“
That was all then,” he
agreed.
“Later, when I got to know you a little, I thought it might lead to something else.”

“
Yes, I know,” I said.

“How can you know?” he smiled at me.

“You told me,” I said simply, “only I was too stupid to understand. I thought you were quoting poetry just, not telling me anything at all!”

“
Ah yes,” he remembered smugly.
“
How fair and pleasant you are, O loved one, delectable maiden! You are stately as a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters. I say I will climb the palm tree and lay hold of its branches. Oh, may your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the scent of your breath like apples, and your kisses like the best wine that goes down smoothly, gliding over lips and teeth
!”

I might just as well never have heard the words, because until then I had never before understood a single brazen word of it
.

“Oh, Andrew, was that why?” I asked brokenly
.

“Near enough,” he said.

The telephone bell rang sharply, pulling us back to reality.

“You’d better answer it,” I sighed.

He let me go and sat down at his desk, flipping the receiver off its cradle with an impatient gesture.

“Yes? Who is it?” he asked angrily.

I could hear Mary’s voice at the other end, so I crept out of the off
i
ce to leave him alone with her. She would be wanting to tell him about her wedding plans, I reasoned, and I was quite unbearably glad that we were already married and had been for some weeks now.

I prowled about the house, touching this and that, plumping up the cushions, and pretending to be very busy
.
But in the end there was nothing left to do and, because I didn’t want Andrew to find me so obviously waiting for him, I went into my room and shut the door behind me.

It was a very long conversation and I grew restless. It was hard not to be jealous of Mary even though I knew her to be happy with Frank Connor. Andrew would have to be blind not to have noticed her glorious hair that burned like a flame about her head, and Andrew was not blind. What attraction could I have for him by comparison?

He didn’t knock at my door, but entered my room as if he was declaring that he had the right.

“I suppose she won’t be ready to come home tomorrow?” I said blithely.

“She won’t ever be ready to come home,” he replied. “They plan to get married first thing in the morning!”

I swallowed down my own immediate pleasure. “Will you mind?” I asked him gently.

“
Mind
?”
he snorted. “Too right I mind! It means that we shall have Margaret back with us tomorrow, and I’d hoped to land her on Frank for a while!”

I smiled at h
i
m
.
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.

“Margaret will be far more interested in the sheep than in us!”

His grey eyes sparked dangerously. “And that’s another thing!” he flared at me, “Whatever made you suggest such a thing to Mary as to renounce her share in Mirrabooka to her mother? We’ll have her on our backs for the rest of our lives!”

I shook my head. “No, we won’t,” I said definitely. “Margaret has too much sense to antagon
ize
you. We’ll have her to stay sometimes—or I thought she might like to build a place of her own, somewhere on the other side of Mirrabooka?”

“
What
?”
he exclaimed.

“She wouldn’t bother you much, would she?” I asked hopefully.

He considered the idea, “Reckon not,” he admitted grudgingly. “But I’ll not have her interfering in the management of Mirrabooka!” He glared at me. “Or y
o
u either!”

“Certainly not,” I agreed, shocked.

“And don’t look so innocent!” he went on angrily. “If you had your way, we’d have everyone living here, from Miss Rowlatt to—to—”

“I don’t think she’d like to move from Geraldton,” I said. “She likes to live beside the sea.”

“Good!” he said with fierce satisfaction. “There won’t be room for her anyway!”

“Oh, Andrew!” I protested. “We have half a dozen bedrooms—”

“Which will all be full of Frasers!”

I blushed, and blushed again because he came very close to me and kissed me lightly on the lips.

“Andrew,” I said, “I love you very much.” I hesitated, not knowing how to tell him quite how much I loved him.
“
Set me as a seal upon your heart
,”
I whispered. “And love me a little
.”

His arms were about me. “A little! I’ll show you how much, Kirsty MacTaggart!”

I put my hand over his mouth. “Mrs. Andrew Fraser,” I said, and I watched the light grow in his eyes.

“Mrs. Fraser,” he agreed
.”
And he kissed me again.