Читать книгу Heir To Glengyle - Miriam Macgregor - Страница 5

BAIRD took the square parcel from her and tossed it on to the back seat, where it landed with a slight thud. He then gritted from behind tight lips, ‘For your information, I am neither married nor engaged.’

‘But you must surely have a girlfriend,’ she pursued, suddenly feeling unaccountably interested in this question.

‘Well, it’s possible. What about yourself?’ he asked, sending a swift glance towards her ringless fingers. ‘Are you a free agent?’

‘Definitely—and I intend to remain that way,’ she declared in a firm voice. ‘At least until—’ She fell silent, annoyed with herself.

He sent her a quick glance. ‘Until what?’

‘Until I’ve achieved my goal—which is no concern of yours.’

‘Shady business, is it?’ He grinned. ‘Something which must be kept secret, or under wraps, as they say.’

‘Of course not,’ she snapped, irritated by his suggestions. Then she gave a sigh of resignation as she admitted, ‘If you must know—I’m interested in antiques. Some day I hope to own my own shop.’

‘That’s your goal? Have you come to the UK on a buying spree?’

‘Heavens, no—I’m a long way from that happy state,’ she said, laughing at the mere thought of it.

Unexpectedly he said, ‘You should laugh more often. It lights up your face.’

She was startled by the remark, wondering if it was supposed to be a compliment. Or had he scratched about in his mind, searching for something nice to say—and all he’d been able to come up with was a hint that her previous expression had been anything but attractive? Not that she cared one iota for his opinion of her appearance, of course, and to prove this point she dragged her mind back to the subject of her great-aunt.

‘I presume the suggestion of a visit to New Zealand has been put to Amy?’ she queried.

‘Yes. But her response has been a complete lack of enthusiasm. That’s why I’m asking if you’ll use your powers of persuasion.’

‘What makes you imagine I have any?’

‘The fact that she was so delighted to see you.’

‘She’s probably like Gran, strong on family ties—which makes me wonder why she’d need to be persuaded to come to New Zealand.’

‘I think the main problem lies in the assistance she needs because of her arthritis. You probably don’t realise that she needs help in having her shower and in getting dressed. Here she has Elspeth to turn to during difficult moments, but in New Zealand she fears she would be a burden to somebody.’

‘Poor Amy,’ Cathie said softly, her voice full of sympathy.

He went on, ‘She also feels nervous about the length of the flight. Thirteen hours from Heathrow to Changi Airport at Singapore, where we’d have a night’s stopover, and then another ten hours or more to Auckland.’

‘It’s a long way to the other side of the world,’ Cathie sighed.

‘I’ve tried to convince her that the Singapore Airlines air hostesses will give her all the assistance she needs. They really are the most charming girls.’

‘Not only charming, but beautiful as well,’ Cathie agreed. ‘But that’s only on the main flight. What happens when she reaches New Zealand?’

‘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 paperweight 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.’

Baird’s shoulders lifted slightly. ‘It was the story of a crusty old man not getting his own way. He expected my father to take over his interests and to be ready to step into his shoes. But Father had other ideas. He wanted to build something for himself—which was exactly what Grandfather had done when he’d been young.’

Amy put in, ‘Naturally, at that time Baird’s grandmother was alive, you understand.’

Baird went on, ‘To make matters worse, my father and his fiancée decided to emigrate to New Zealand. It was during a period when our immigration laws made this quite easy to do, but because they were not yet married the old man was sure they’d be living in what he called sin. My grandmother became very upset about it, and he declared it brought on her long illness. He never forgave my father, and before his death he made out his will in favour of me instead of his son.’

The silence which followed his words was broken by Cathie. ‘You are obviously very like your grandfather,’ she said quietly.

‘What makes you so sure of that?’ he demanded abruptly, his eyes glinting with suspicion.

She forced a smile. ‘It’s easy to see you’ve inherited more than Glengyle. You’ve also been endowed with his unforgiving streak, and even now you’re well on the way to becoming a crusty old man.’

‘Thank you,’ he rasped, his jaw tightening.

Amy heaved a deep sigh. ‘Well—I suppose there’s no more to be said. I’ll ask Elspeth to put my two suitcases back under the stairs. I can see it’s quite useless.’

His dark brows shot up. ‘You’d actually reached the suitcase stage? This I can scarcely believe—’

‘Yes—but unless Cathie is with me I’ll not budge an inch.’

Eagerly, he turned to Cathie. ‘You’ll come with us, of course.’

She returned his gaze steadily. ‘I’m not so sure. I’m not amused by being with a man who resents my presence—and as for staying in his house, that’s the last thing I wish to do.’

‘But you’ll do it for Amy’s sake,’ he declared smugly.

‘If I refuse to do it, my grandmother will kill me,’ she said.

Unexpectedly, he reached across the table to take her hand, and, his face unsmiling, he said in a serious tone of voice, ‘Miss Campbell—I hereby invite you to be a guest in this, and in my New Zealand home.’

She snatched her hand away. ‘I accept, Mr MacGregor—but only on sufferance.’

Amy became exasperated. ‘Really, you two—if I hear any more of this Mr and Miss business I’ll bang your heads together.’

Baird laughed. ‘You and who else, Amy?’

‘Elspeth will be delighted to help me,’ she snapped at him.

He laughed again. ‘Before you start I’ll remove myself in the direction of the travel agent. There are arrangements to be made. You don’t mind how soon we leave?’

She hesitated, then admitted, ‘There’s just one place I’d like to visit before going so far away—if you wouldn’t mind driving me there.’

His expression and voice softened. ‘You know I’ll take you anywhere, Amy. Where is this place?’ he asked gently.

She took a deep breath then said, ‘I’ll like to take a last look at the Braes of Balquhidder. There’s a church there—as well as Rob Roy’s grave. Your grandparents often attended church services there, and sometimes, after your grandmother’s death, he would go there to sit alone with his thoughts. Later, after we were married, he occasionally took me to attend a service.’

‘I’ll take you tomorrow,’ Baird promised. ‘Today you must rest and makeup for the sleep you lost last night.’ He then turned to Cathie, his face still unsmiling. ‘If you’ll give me your flight ticket I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you to be with us.’

‘Thank you—I’ll fetch it,’ Cathie said, and as she went upstairs she felt overwhelmed by Baird’s kindness towards her great-aunt. Unexpectedly, she found herself wishing that the affection he gave to Amy included herself—but it didn’t. He was merely tolerating her presence in his house for Amy’s sake.

As soon as he’d left Amy was persuaded to return to bed for a short sleep while Elspeth began sorting through clothes she considered should be taken to New Zealand. Cathie found herself unable to get Baird out of her mind, and was conscious of his absence. She felt at a slight loss, so she made her way to the small library where she discovered that one of the shelves held a row of books, each giving a history of the various Scottish clans.

Here was her chance to learn of her own Clan Campbell, but for some reason she was unable to define she passed over it in favour of the book entitled Clan MacGregor. She carried it to an easy-chair, then settled down to read.

During the next two hours she became lost in the fighting days of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries when most of the clans had been at each other’s throats. The MacGregors had merely done what everyone else was doing, except that they’d done it so much better, until eventually they’d brought sufficient trouble upon their own heads to have the entire clan outlawed and exiled.

She learnt that this state of affairs had come about in 1602 after a fight at Glenfruin when Clan Colquhoun planned to trap the MacGregors. It had resulted in more than two hundred Colquhoun widows taking their husbands’ blood-stained shirts to lay before James VI at Stirling Castle. Each shirt had been carried on a spear.

Cathie shuddered at the thought, then continued reading to learn how the MacGregors had then had their lands taken from them, and had been hunted down by bloodhounds and beagles. Nobody who killed a MacGregor could be punished, and Government rewards had been paid for any MacGregor heads brought in. By Act of Parliament they had not been permitted to use the name of MacGregor.

Years later, because of the clan’s support, the Act was repealed by Charles II. The words gave Cathie a feeling of relief until she read on to discover that it had been renewed by William of Orange when the clan had ranged itself on the side of the Jacobites, and Bonny Prince Charlie. Not until 1775, she learnt, had the penal statutes against the MacGregors finally been repealed.

She had become so engrossed that she failed to hear Baird’s return until a sound caused her to look up and discover him watching her from the doorway. The expression on his face made her feel as if she’d been caught spying, but she met his gaze defiantly.

‘You’re taking the opportunity to read about your clan history?’ he queried, coming further into the room.

‘No—I’ve been delving into your clan history,’ she admitted with satisfaction. ‘Most interesting, I must say—especially the story of the Glenfruin fight and its results.’ She left the chair and replaced the book on the shelf, then swept past him to leave the room, but paused in the doorway to fling at him vehemently, ‘Don’t you dare throw Campbell atrocities at me. Your own clan has a long list that will match any you can produce.’ And, feeling she had won that particular round, she ran upstairs.

A short time later he handed her flight ticket across the lunch table. She saw that its Economy class had been altered to Singapore Raffles class, which was more expensive and gave greater comfort. ‘I shall pay the difference,’ she declared with dignity.

‘You can argue about it with Amy,’ he retorted coldly.

But when Amy vowed she knew nothing about it Cathie realised that Baird had paid the extra money and that she’d have little hope of forcing him to accept repayment. She then regretted her words to him in the library.

* * *

The next afternoon Cathie found herself in the back seat of Amy’s car while Baird drove them to Balquhidder. The road left Crieff to twist and wind through hilly tree-studded valleys, passing solidly built country homesteads with their equally solidly built barns. At times the roadside was colourful with a tall pink or white feathery weed, but it was the purple of the hillside heather that really caused her to catch her breath in sheer delight.

There were times when Baird caught and held her gaze in the rear-view mirror, his frowning reflection causing her to wonder if he resented her presence as much as she suspected. In an effort to brush away the feeling of discomfort she dragged her attention away towards the black-faced sheep and brown shaggy-coated Highland cattle grazing peacefully in the fields.

The long narrow waters of Loch Earn were seen through the trees, and at its head Amy gave directions to turn left, and a couple of miles further on to turn right. ‘This road leads to the Braes of Balquhidder and Loch Voil,’ she informed them.

‘What are braes?’ Cathie felt compelled to ask.

‘They’re slopes at the sides of a river valley,’ Amy explained. ‘And a narrow valley is what we call a glen.’

The tree-lined road followed the contour of the hills through the glen, eventually reaching a small hillside church with its cluster of graves. Beside it were the stone-walled ruins of an earlier church, while only a short distance away the still waters of Lock Voil lay glistening at the base of encircling heather-clad hills.

Baird drove up the short rise and stopped the car in the church parking area. He opened the door for Amy, who got out a little stiffly with one hand gripping her walking stick, and he then led her towards the headstones.

Cathie lingered behind, hesitating to intrude into these moments of nostalgia, but Amy’s voice called to her.

‘Come over here, dear. I’ll show you the grave of the most famous MacGregor of them all. You’ve heard of Rob Roy, of course. He has become a Robin Hood type of legend and was the finest guerilla fighter of his day.’

Cathie joined them to stand at the grave which contained the remains of not only Rob Roy, but also of his wife Mary, and two of his sons. On the simple dark stone above them were three words. ‘MACGREGOR DESPITE THEM.’

Amy went on to explain, ‘Those words come from the old song, “The MacGregors’ Gathering”, which state, “MacGregor despite them shall flourish forever.” They’re easily understood when you know of the clan’s trials and tribulations, and how they were outlawed.’

Her words were followed by a silence broken only by the singing of a thrush. It was perched directly behind them on the stone gable of the ruined church with its date of 1631, and as they turned to look up at it Amy said casually, ‘No doubt you know that Rob Roy’s mother was a Campbell, therefore when his own name was forbidden to be used he took the name of Campbell.’

Cathie began to giggle. ‘Yes—I read about it yesterday in the library.’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry—one shouldn’t laugh in a cemetery.’

The thrush sang even louder. It was almost as though it understood the situation, and was also having a hearty laugh.

Baird took Amy’s arm again and they made their way towards the more recent church that stood on higher ground. It appeared to be built of stone similar to the ruined church, and as she entered its cool interior Cathie became conscious of its peaceful atmosphere.

Strangely, the frustrations that Baird seemed to stir within her were wiped away, and she felt an inner happiness while standing beside him to run her hand over the font which had been gouged out of a large hunk of local stone at some unknown earlier date.

The feeling of peace was still with her as they stood close together to examine the bell of the old church which bore the date of 1684. But suddenly her spirits plummeted as she learnt that the Session Chest upon which it rested had belonged to ‘Black Duncan’ Campbell of Glenorchy who had died in 1631, and who had been a ruthless persecutor of Clan MacGregor.

The knowledge made her feel sick, and she moved from Baird’s side to where Amy was putting money in the donation box. Baird followed her, and as she opened her handbag to follow Amy’s example he spoke in a dry tone.

‘I trust the spirits in this place won’t look upon that as tainted money.’

Amy caught his words. She looked at him in a reproving manner then said, ‘Come—I’ll show you where your grandparents used to sit.’ She then led the way towards the front pews, the firm tapping of her walking stick indicating that she was displeased.

Baird and Cathie followed meekly until they were four pews from the front, where Amy had paused.

‘Cathie, sit in there,’ the older woman commanded while pointing at the pew seat with her stick. ‘Baird, you will sit beside her. You will hold her hand.’

A faint smile played about his lips as he sat beside Cathie and took her hand. ‘What is this, Amy? What are you driving at?’ he queried as though humouring her.

‘You are now sitting where your grandfather always sat when he came to this church. Think about it,’ she ordered with an impatient tap on the floor with her stick.

There was silence for a few moments before he said, ‘OK—I’ve thought. So what?’

‘You mentioned the spirits in this place,’ Amy reminded him. ‘Ask them to remove the antagonism that lies between yourself and Cathie—who is sitting where your grandmother always sat.’

He grinned. ‘Are you sure they could do that?’

‘If you could contact your grandfather he’d soon tell you what to do,’ Amy declared with conviction.

Baird’s brows rose. ‘You reckon? So what would that be?’

‘He’d tell you to take that girl in your arms and kiss her—now.’ The stick positively banged on the floor.

Baird turned to look at Cathie, whose cheeks had become pink. ‘I’ve just had a message from above,’ he told her gravely, then took her in his arms and kissed her.