The Kilted Stranger Page 2

  Sue still thought his remarks ambiguous as, a week later, she approached

  Edinburgh in the late afternoon.

  ‘Keep in touch,’ he had said, when she had rung to say she was leaving. ‘Whatever you do, let me know how you get on.’

  Like Tim, he had seemed quite alarmed when she insisted on going on her own, but she hadn’t told either of them that her mother had begged her to do just this. Tim especially had tried to persuade her that such a course was clearly illogical, and had been quite offended when she had refused to listen to him. But this way, Sue decided as she drove along, was much better. If the mysterious letter which she had tucked away in her suitcase contained bad news, then there would be no one around to witness her humiliation. Tim never believed in restraining his remarks when time or circumstances proved him right.

  In spite of the controversy about her mission, and her own inner apprehension, Sue glanced around her eagerly as her small Mini ate up the miles. The car was going splendidly, something for which she was grateful. The man at her local garage had serviced it well before she left. It had belonged to her mother, who had actually bought it very cheaply with some money she had won in a competition. She had insisted that Sue learnt to drive so that they could go out together at weekends. It was taxed to the end of the year, but after she returned to London Sue knew that she would have to part with it. A car was much too expensive to run on her own, and in any case she probably wouldn’t need it.

  She sighed, then trying to channel her thoughts more cheerfully, thought about her journey. It had been good so far. Admittedly she would have liked more time in York. The Minster had held her enthralled, but the weather was fine and it had been no great punishment to push on. Northwards, after the industrial murk of Tyne and Tees, the hills and mountains had beckoned. There had been a short stop in the historical border town of Alnwick for lunch, then, since rejoining the A1 after her meal, she hadn’t stopped at all.

  Now she felt tired and as she drove along Dalkeith Road a small yawn escaped her and quickly she put her fingers to her mouth. Perhaps she had been silly to have come so far in so short a time, but there was something inside her which seemed to be driving her on, a curiosity, deeper than she cared to admit, about this man Frazer, as to who he was, and what he would look like. A curiosity curiously mixed with feelings of anger against her mother because she had never mentioned this man until it had been too late for any explanations. And obviously he must have been someone important to her at some stage of her life. Probably Tim had been right. Somewhere there might possibly be an uncle, or a grandfather maybe, whom her mother had deserted. Certainly there must be someone to have aroused such a guilty conscience. The thought that somewhere she might have grandparents living produced more mixed feelings, but resolutely Sue thrust them away, resolving once again to wait and see.

  Edinburgh, grey metropolis of the North, a picturesque and beautiful city.

  As she arrived Sue received fleeting impressions of splendid buildings, spacious streets bordered by high tenements and narrow closes. The old and the new side by side. She progressed slowly through a heavy build-up of evening traffic, but didn’t mind. Tingling interest was removing some of her recent lethargy, and anticipation grew as she gazed around, her eyes wide, each time the flow of traffic halted. Over the Waverley Bridge into Princes Street she felt a positive glow returning.

  The glow faded a little, however, as she searched for somewhere to sleep. She tried several hotels suggested in her guide book without success. In the end it was only after consulting the information centre that she was able to find a room. Gratefully she took it, although it was in a more expensive bracket than what she had had in mind. She would have to economize later.

  The receptionist remarked that even this one room wouldn’t have been available if someone hadn’t cancelled, so Sue was fortunate. ‘It’s because of the Festival,’ she explained. ‘Usually we can manage to fit people in, but at this time of the year it’s almost impossible.’

  Sue thanked her, making a mental note to book in advance if she should come back again. In her room she wondered uncertainly what she should wear for dinner. She hadn’t brought anything very formal with her; just one long black skirt which she hadn’t really expected to wear. In the end, after considering her luxurious surroundings, she put it on. With a white, longsleeved top it didn’t look exactly original, but at least she blended into the general scene. She was hungry and in a hurry and it didn’t seem so very important.

  Bathed and dressed, she went downstairs, for the first time since she had left home feeling a twinge of loneliness, a feeling brought on by the laughing couples and family parties around her. As the receptionist said, it was festival time and everyone appeared to be in a holiday mood. Oh, well, Sue shrugged, she wasn’t here, she reminded herself, for pleasure. She asked for a quiet table and was given one by an attentive head waiter who glanced at her appreciatively. She followed him, quite unaware that in her rather severe dress, with her pale smooth hair drawn back into a velvet bow, she looked like some Victorian Miss escaped from the past.

  She was half-way through her Sole Mornay when the man with the kilt came in. In Scotland now, she had been told, she wouldn’t see men wearing the kilt. Tourists who expected such a sight were disappointed. Well, ‘He’ was wearing one! A wonderful garment in a dark, striking tartan, the name of which she couldn’t begin to guess. It caught the eye, holding it, or rather the wearer did. A high, wide and handsome Highlander! Sue’s breath caught tautly, irrationally in her throat. He was a complete stranger, but she had never seen anyone like him. He was tall and dark and there was assurance in every line of his well-made body, in the way he held his head. Before he sat down Sue noticed how his kilt swung gracefully from his hips.

  With an effort she dragged her eyes away before he could realize she was staring. He had a companion, a girl much older than herself, but younger than the man, probably in her late twenties. One would have to reach that age, Sue thought wistfully, before acquiring such elegance. The girl wore tartan too, with a dark sash over her shoulder. They might almost have been brother and sister, as the same hard arrogance seemed to mould both their features.

  Studiously Sue concentrated on her meal, refusing to take her emotional impressions seriously, relating her easily distracted mind to her recent unhappy bereavement, which must be responsible for her acting like an impressionable schoolgirl.

  Then suddenly she became conscious of a pair of eyes upon her, of a gaze so direct it could be felt, so that it drew her own magnetically. Unable to stop herself, she glanced up to find the man with the kilt staring at her, almost as she had been staring at him. He looked directly at her across the space of several feet, his eyes dwelling on her face with not a flicker of dark lashes, with a narrowed concentration, as if he were seeing a ghost.

  Quickly but with a great effort, she looked away from him, a strange shudder sweeping through her, annoyed that a stranger could bewilder her with his eyes alone. An embarrassing suspicion that her own former scrutiny had subconsciously attracted his attention brought hot colour surging beneath her skin. Hating herself for being a coward but unable to trust her traitorous reactions further, Sue gathered up her belongings and scrambled to her feet. Then swiftly, without another glance towards the other table, she left the room.

  In one of the large lounges she sank gratefully down into a comfortable chair, forcing herself to relax. The man had barely noticed her. She was making mountains out of molehills. Why should he notice a complete stranger when the girl by his side was perfectly charming? In any case, Sue assured herself, she would never see him again. Here, among numerous other guests and a medley of small tables and deep chairs, she would be lost and able to unwind for a short while before returning to her room. It was getting late and she would need to be away in good time in the morning.

  With lessening tension she drank her coffee, then let her head fall back against the soft cushion of her chair. The lounge was qui
eter now, and tired from her long drive, she closed her eyes, almost falling asleep.

  His voice when it came startled beyond belief, jerking her upright in sudden alarm, her face flushed with confusion.

  ‘Good evening. I owe you an apology, I believe.’ His tone was deep, totally masculine, as was everything about him. Tall and erect, resplendent in tartan, now that she was so near him the impact was even more devastating than before. It was as if he had reached out and touched her physically, and fright took hold of her once again as his darkly speculative gaze met hers.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Gripping the arms of her chair, Sue forced the rather inane words through her lips. She could think of nothing more to say. Why should he imagine he owed her an apology? Unless...?

  ‘I thought perhaps I alarmed you in the dining-room.’ He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, moving around in front of her, moving her coffee-cup slightly when he caught it with a flick of his kilt. Mesmerised, Sue noticed how a diamond ring flashed on one well-shaped finger. Yet all the while his eyes never left her, his stare encircled her completely, stripping her of all her assurance. Closely he regarded her smooth oval face, her fair hair, the feathery tendrils curling free at the temples, her smoky, dark-lashed eyes. ‘I had a feeling that I’d seen you somewhere before. I was trying to place you, but when you left so suddenly without, I think, quite finishing your meal, I immediately felt guilty. ’

  ‘Guilty ...?’ Bewildered, Sue blinked, glancing at him uncertainly and not a little suspiciously. The man had the audacity to smile, but surely this was one of the oldest tricks in the world? He had noticed her and wanted to know her, otherwise why should a man like this stoop to such devious behaviour? It was the sort of thing one read about in fiction, not the sort of thing ever to happen to Sue Granger. For one brief, improbable moment, excitement flared, only to be as quickly squelched by common sense. Men of his calibre just didn’t pick up girls like this. Nor should girls like herself entertain such wild ideas. Why he should approach her in this manner she couldn’t think. Unless - her face went hot - it was as she’d thought before? He had known instinctively that she had been attracted?

  Her eyes, their colour intensified by dismay, looked away from him, her clear-cut features remote. Desperately she tried to control a nervous tremor. Perhaps her best defence was to treat the matter lightly? ‘I’m afraid you made a mistake,’ she said coolly, after a slight pause. ‘I’m quite certain we’ve never met before. It seems probable that you’ve seen someone like me. And now, if you’ll excuse me ...’ She turned her head, an obvious gesture of dismissal.

  Not attempting to deny her assertion, or move on, he towered above her, watching her closely, his eyes fixed curiously on her face. Neither of them heard the girl until she spoke.

  Her tones laced with a faint surprise, she demanded sulkily, ‘Whatever are you doing here, darling? You distinctly said you’d wait in the bar.’ Her gaze dwelt coldly on Sue’s taut face as she added sharply, ‘I wasn’t aware you knew anyone here?’

  Sue, about to retrieve her bag from the far side of her chair, stopped and her head spun. The girl had approached from behind, she hadn’t seen her coming. Close at hand Sue saw that her first impressions hadn’t been far out. She was no teenager, but she was beautiful. Yet her face had a hardness about it which contrasted oddly with the melting softness of her eyes when she looked at the man. But Sue was certain now that she wasn’t his sister. No girl would look at her brother in exactly that way.

  Before she could speak the man said shortly, almost as if he didn’t welcome his companion’s timely interruption, ‘You usually take some time to powder your nose, Carlotte. I’ve just been having a word with this young lady. I imagined I’d seen her somewhere before, but it seems I’ve been mistaken. However, as she seems to be all alone, perhaps she would care to join us for a

  drink?’

  His suggestion did something momentarily to Sue’s breath. Helplessly she glanced at the other girl, noting the frowning disbelief on her face as she stared at the man disapprovingly. In her eyes there was a clear indication that his action in approaching Sue was entirely out of character.

  Sue heard her protest icily, ‘But she doesn’t even know us!’

  ‘Which is easily remedied.’ The man’s face hardened with determination as his dark brows drew together. Politely he held out his hand, his glance returning to Sue’s face. ‘I’m Meric Findlay. And this lady,’ his head tilted fractionally and not very kindly, ‘is Miss Carlotte Craig.’

  Sue wasn’t greatly surprised that Carlotte didn’t even bother to acknowledge the introduction. She ignored it completely, staring at Meric Findlay as if he had taken leave of his senses, her voice rising on an almost hysterical note. ‘You must have forgotten, Meric, that Mother is expecting us? We’re late already!’

  ‘Then a few more minutes won’t hurt her.’ Dismissing Carlotte’s plea, he looked back at Sue’s embarrassed face. His eyes, threatening pools of cool darkness, held hers against her will.

  Sue felt like a fly caught in a web, surveyed by the spider, a relentless pursuer. His dark face loomed above her, his expression enigmatic and, irrationally, her heart missed a beat. Quite without volition she felt a peculiar weakness in her limbs. The sensation was alarming, and again a small smile flickered across his lips, almost as if he sensed she was unable to move.

  Then suddenly to her numbed brain and body there came a saving flash of temper. For some reason or another she had imagined that this man’s curiosity might be genuine, but in an instant it occurred to her that he might possibly be using her for another purpose - perhaps to make the girl by his side jealous, or even to annoy her in some way, improbable though it might seem? Devious methods came easily to some men. Her mother had often remarked on it.

  Hastily, her pale cheeks flushed, Sue rose, ignoring his hand along with his invitation as she turned to Carlotte, smiling sweetly. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve inadvertently kept you from your appointment,’ she apologized. ‘But don’t let me detain you any longer. I’m sure Mr. Findlay was only trying to be polite.’

  Biting her lip resentfully, but the incident so far as she was concerned closed, Sue stooped to gather up her wrap, only to find that the hand which she had studiously ignored had reached down and picked it up for her. Then, with what she considered cool audacity, he draped it about her shoulders before she could protest, his fingers inflicting a tingling thrill through the thin material of her blouse. For a space of several quick heartbeats Sue paused, nervelessly, her eyes wide again as they met his. Through the ensuing silence she said, ‘Good night...’ And then, before he could reply, she fled.

  Only one spark of triumph illuminated her mind as she almost ran back to her room. She had had the good sense not to tell this Meric Findlay her name.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE next morning was grey and misty with a fine rain falling, drenching the spirits and clothes alike. Yet Sue felt oddly grateful for it, welcoming any concealment that a heavily overcast sky might give.

  ‘Typical August weather!’ the friendly receptionist smiled wryly, but Sue paid little attention as she quickly paid her bill before going to collect her car.

  There was little to be seen of Edinburgh as she left, even the Castle was barely visible, shrouded as it was beneath a canopy of cloud. Scott’s Monument stood out, registering briefly as she went past along Princes Street again, but that was all. As in York, she promised herself more time to explore on her return journey. She sighed as her foot regretfully pressed the accelerator. She supposed she was doing things the wrong way around.

  Painfully aware of an urge to be gone, she drove swiftly from the city, across the Forth Road Bridge into the hills of Fife. She concentrated wholly on the wet slippery road and the water that streamed against her windscreen. Anything to keep her mind off the previous evening - the disturbing incident in the hotel. She still shuddered to think of it. Not that she could imagine ever seeing Meric Findlay again. Nor, she assured herse
lf, did she wish to. And yet, by some strange coincidence, her heart still missed a beat whenever she thought of him, and an equally strange flicker of regret warred with her desire to forget.

  Obviously Meric Findlay had been beset by regrets of another kind as there had been no sign of him at breakfast. Sue had hurried with hers, apprehensive in case he should turn up, but she need not have worried. The table he had occupied the night before was empty and there had been no sign of Carlotte either. Sue could only decide that her conclusions had been correct. He had been using her like a small spanner to wrest a little jealousy from his beautiful girlfriend. People were capable of surprising things when their affections were involved. In Meric Findlay’s case the improbability of such behaviour continued to tantalise, and it took an almost physical effort to turn her thoughts in other directions, to thrust his dangerously attractive face from her mind. She mustn’t allow anyone or anything to distract her from finding Glenroden and the mysterious Mr. Frazer.

  Because of the rain and fog visibility was limited, and Sue was thankful when at last it cleared and the sun came out. Here, she was surprised to see that the countryside was not particularly rugged. It was rolling country, with enormous fields and good sized farmhouses. After Perth, however, the landscape changed, becoming mountainous and wilder, and after Dunkeld, where she left the main road, she felt the loneliness of moor and forest land pressing in on her. By consulting her map she avoided taking many wrong turnings, but when she came to a village several miles along the road she decided to stop and ask the way. She must be getting somewhere near, she assured herself as she parked her car outside the village shop, but she might save herself many miles by inquiring exactly how to get there.