Carn Mo'r Page 2

  But there was no fooling Connie and slowly she dragged her story from out.

  It had been just over two months now since her mother passed away after a long illness and they travelled far to escape their grief, or perhaps lack of it.

  Maybe now she too will find the time to grieve for her lost love who was killed in the last year of the war. They were childhood sweethearts and their love was innocent, something she deeply regretted.

  She was only sixteen when he joined the US Marines in 1942, just after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour. The evening before he left never to return, they had slipped away in his father’s car. That evening was the most exciting of her life. They spent it kissing and touching, but nothing more. But oh, how many nights had she awoken feeling his burning touch, and dreaming they had gone further. Her mother’s growing dependency ensured her faithfulness, even after he had been killed on that cruel Atoll.

  When they had embarked Robyn thought she was going to visit another cripple and wasn’t looking forward to it. A man by the name of Sinclair, a man so badly wounded in the war that he would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Yet this man so greatly impressed her father with his courage and will to live that he had never forgotten him. Remarkable considering he had operated on thousands of men throughout the war.

  To be truthful it wasn’t just this man her father was here to see. There were others from this place too, and of course the man he had never stopped talking about, a certain John Buchan, who, it seems, never left his officer’s side all the time he was in hospital.

  They had struck up a strange friendship, this man and her father. He had enchanted him with strange tales of this land. Legends of strange heroes and heroines, mysterious happenings and friendly ghosts. It had set a spark of desire deep within her father’s soul and through their darkest days it lit a flame that grew brighter and brighter with each passing year.

  So here they were, deep in the Highlands of Scotland to quench what had become a raging fire. Unannounced and unexpected, but the man Sinclair had told him to come in this manner anytime he wished, for he would always be made welcome.

  She had objected to coming at first, having a desire to stay at home and try and pick up the threads of her life. He had insisted the change of scenery would do her the world of good. It didn’t take Robyn long to realise he was right. Almost all of the friends she had grown up with were now either married with children of their own or had left.

  She thought he secretly wished for her to meet a nice man on the trip. Of those she met that were her age, most were married and although more than one had shown a great deal of interest, she had felt nothing but scorn for them. She would never take up with a man who would cheat on his wife so readily.

  Others she had met on the way were friends of her father and his age while most of the single men she had met were either too young or too foppish.

  Connie summarised her tale in one sentence. ‘So what you’re telling me is, you’re twenty-four years old, very beautiful and still a virgin.’

  ‘Yes,’ she squeaked, unable to look Connie in the eye.

  Connie smiled kindly, ‘then I shall be a little less candid with my tongue in future.’

  Robyn felt a great sense of relief at her understanding, but the conversation had faltered a little.

  Robyn groped for something to say. ‘So is the Laird married?’

  Connie went still for a moment, then her head ducked forward as her eyes flashed towards the door. ‘No he’s not married, doesn’t even have a girlfriend.’

  She was shocked. ‘Why not? He’s a very handsome man.’

  Connie shrugged. ‘He just doesn’t seem to bother much, although …’ her eyes flashed towards the door again and her voice lowered, ‘he used to visit a harlot in London every year, but he’s even stopped going to see her now.’

  Robyn shook her head not understanding the term, ‘what’s a harlot?’

  ‘You know a prostitute.’

  Robyn’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘No!’

  ‘Yes.’

  They both flew into a fit of girlish giggles and Robyn felt deliciously scandalised.

  ‘That’s terrible. Have all the women here shunned him because of it?’

  ‘Oh no, they’re actually quite concerned that he has stopped going.’

  She was beginning to become confused again. ‘Are they, isn’t that a little unusual?’

  Connie thought it over. ‘It might look like that I suppose, but not for here and especially not with Alasdair.’

  Now she definitely wasn’t making any sense, ‘but isn’t that an opportunity for some of the single women of the Glen?’

  Her eyes flew wide. ‘Good God no! The last thing they want is Alasdair turning his charms on them.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Because they are terrified of him, he’s a very big man.’

  Robyn was still confused. ‘He’s tall, yes, but I know men who are a lot taller.’

  ‘No, no, not that kind of big …’ her voice faltered as she sat there with her hands out in front of her motionless and a strange look passed over her face, ‘I had better check on the soup, excuse me for a moment. Would you like a bowl? It’s ready.’

  ‘Sure, yes I would love one.’ Before she could pursue an answer John came back and sat down next to her.

  ‘The Innkeeper is going to tell your father what happened and that you’re well. I’ve also put the boiler onto heat for a bath.’

  ‘Didn’t my father come to the phone?’

  ‘No, I was told he was taking a stroll down by the river but don’t worry, he has a local man for company.’

  Connie placing a bowl of soup before her distracted him. The smell made Robyn’s mouth water and it tasted even better. ‘Oh Connie this is wonderful.’

  ‘Och away, it’s just a broth.’

  John butted in, ‘dinna listen to her lass, she’s the best cook in the Glen.’

  She smiled at him. ‘If you think you can wheedle a plate of soup from me before dinner time John Buchan then think again.’

  He smiled. ‘Ach well, it was worth a try.’

  ‘Make yourself useful and go and check on young John.’

  He took himself away and returned with a baby wrapped in a beautiful shawl. Robyn was enchanted.

  Chapter 3

  The time seemed to fly past. All too soon she was on the road back to the Inn with a strange man at the wheel. John and Connie saw her off at the door but Alasdair never reappeared.

  All of a sudden she felt alone in the world. Robyn cast a look at the driver. He was quiet and never offered conversation. The silence became unbearable.

  ‘Do you work for the Laird?’

  He raised an eyebrow at her and she felt like an idiot. Of course he worked on the estate it was the stupidest of questions, but he decided to play the game anyway.

  ‘Aye, I work for the Laird.’

  His accent was deeper than that of the others, but he offered no more information and the silence began to stretch again. ‘May I ask your name Sir?’

  ‘Tam it is, but Black Tam is what they call me Miss.’

  ‘I’m Robyn, Robyn Colwin.’

  ‘I know who you are; John told me.’

  ‘I see; I’m here with my father.’

  He nodded and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, ‘I know the Doc as we called him. He saved my leg. He did good by the men of the Glen and won’t be forgotten for it.’

  That put her at ease a little but he ventured nothing further and the rest of the journey was conducted in near silence.

  When they arrived he switched off the engine and sat back. She was puzzled. ‘Aren’t you going back?’

  ‘No Miss, I’ve been told by John to stay here in case your father wants a run up to see the Laird.’

  She frowned. ‘What for?’

  He looked at her in a strange way. ‘Don’t worry about it lass, it’s a man thing.’

  Confused, she left him
sitting there. Then her father appeared and she fell to pieces at the look of concern on his face.

  He half carried her inside and while he poked and prodded at her ankle, she blurted out the whole story. Robyn remembered the shame and indignation she had felt in the hands of the Laird and despite promising to herself she wouldn’t say anything; that ended up being blurting out to. She even got angry and demanded to return home.

  It had been a long time since she had really seen her father angry and missed the stillness that came over him. By the time she did his resolve was set. He finished bandaging her ankle and left, calling for a car.

  Robyn tried to follow, protesting his actions all the way, but he stopped her from leaving the Inn. He found the car John had left for him and left. She tried talking to the Innkeeper’s wife but was told to leave it; it was a man thing.

  Chapter 4

  I was cleaned and rested; John had been in and told me the damned woman was gone. My supper lay at my elbow untouched; instead my mind played with recent memories of milky white skin. I had been ashamed to face John but he, for once, was un-berating and that made me uneasy.

  He knocked the door and entered. ‘There’s someone here to see you Sir.’

  ‘Not tonight John please.’

  ‘An angry father I believe, who wants to discuss your treatment of his daughter.’

  ‘Oh God, not another bloody American. Get rid of him. He’s not a woman and I will not be held responsible for my actions if he angers me, John.’

  ‘I will not. You will face this man if I have to hold you down to do it.’

  With those words he walked out leaving me stunned but that was nothing to what I felt when the man walked through my study door. I wanted to crawl away and die; indeed I wished at that moment that I had died on that dusty German road. Almost as tall as myself and with a dignity I remembered, but fire flashed in his eyes. He looked me up and down and I shrivelled inside.

  ‘I wish to thank you for the life of my daughter; I believe that is us even. It seems your tales of the rejuvenating effects of your Highland air were not exaggerated, I would have laid a bet you would never have walked again. Good day Sir.’

  With those words he left. I came round the desk but John stopped me. ‘You have done enough damage today. Leave this to me.’

  So I sat back down behind desk and waited in agony until my friend returned.

  Chapter 5

  John saw the Doctor to the door. The Doctor turned, ‘I would like to thank you for the kindness you showed my daughter John Buchan, you are as I remember you.’

  ‘No Sir, I am nothing like the man you remember, for I have returned from the war. I am whole again unlike the Laird.’

  The surgeon’s head dropped. ‘I know what you’re talking about John. Many of our lads are afflicted the same way, but there is nothing I can do about the state of a man’s mind.’

  ‘I think you’re wrong Sir.’ A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

  ‘Explain John, please.’

  ‘I know you have suffered grievous injury at his hands today Sir, but if you would please bear with me for a moment.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘He has worked very hard to get his body back into shape but not his mind. Since the war our Laird has shown very little emotion. He gets up, works, eats, sleeps and lives, if you can call it that.

  I have rarely seen him smile since our return; neither does he socialize anymore. He rarely receives guests or talks to the ones who do stay. Just members of the Clan and often he is sorely pushed to talk to them. The only people he really talks to any more are the old soldiers on the estate and myself.

  But today, oh today, never have I seen him in such a temper, not since before we left to go to the war. It was glorious.’

  ‘What are you saying John Buchan?’

  ‘To be sure Sir I don’t really know. All I know is since your arrival he has shown more life in him in the one day than he has shown in the last five years. Please, I know you want to leave but if you could, stay for a few more days? He owes you his life and has talked about you often. He admires you and that is a rare thing for our Laird these days. Maybe your arrival is the turning point we have waited for, for years.’

  The kindly face relaxed. ‘I think I understand what you’re asking of me John, and we will stay a few more days, but I will require an apology to my daughter for his language this day.’

  John grinned delightedly, ‘and you will have it Sir. I will see to that.’

  A primeval scream of rage carried down the hall followed by the ringing of steel on steel.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ asked the startled Doctor.

  ‘Life, hopefully,’ answered John.

  Chapter 6

  Robyn was bustled up to her room and left on her own, and there she was left with a hundred different thoughts racing around inside her head. Every minute her father was gone felt like an hour, and by the time he returned she thought her head was going to explode.

  One second she wanted to go home and the next she didn’t. She would hate Alasdair Sinclair for what he put her through that day and then she would feel ashamed for what one of her own fellow countrymen had done to him and his men.

  Then she would remember his eyes and a strange heat would wash through her body and leave her shivering. In the end she realised the decision to leave would be her father’s and his alone.

  She heard the car return and rushed as fast as she could to greet him.

  He scowled at the sight of her. ‘You should be resting that ankle Robyn, not walking around on it.’

  ‘I’m sorry I just had to see you were all right.’

  His smile was a little bleak, the shattering of a dream, ‘I’m fine darling, come, let’s sit down.’

  They went through to the lounge and ordered a cup of tea. When it arrived she found the courage to ask him what happened.

  He half smiled. ‘Well the Laird never said much but then I never gave him the chance to. However I did have a talk with John and he asked us to stay.’ She felt her heart skip a beat. ‘I told him that if the Laird apologised to you for his conduct then we would consider it.’

  She thought that knowing would help; instead it made her even more apprehensive. Would that great beast of a man lower himself to apologies to a woman? Half of her prayed he would and the other half didn’t.

  It was while they were waiting for their dinner that the Laird and John arrived, and did they arrive!

  Chapter 7

  I lay upon the floor of the practice room, the polished wood burned against my cheeks. I heard the door open and felt a cool rush of air but could hear no footsteps.

  ‘Hello John Buchan.’

  He sniffed loudly as he contemplated my prostrate form. ‘Well, what have you to say for yourself Laird of CarnMo’r?’

  I groaned with embarrassment, ‘have I not made a complete fool of myself this day, friend John?’

  ‘A Royal fool if that was the blood that coursed through your veins.’

  He stooped and plucked the large Claymore from my hands; I listened to him clean it and slip it back into its sheath. I wondered at that, John and I were the only two sword masters left in the Clan and took great pride in our swords, never touching the others.

  ‘You act strangely tonight John Buchan.’

  ‘No more strangely than you have all day.’

  ‘You have an agenda I think.’

  ‘That I have. This day is the blackest in the Glen’s history for generations and I will have that stain removed this very night.’ I gasped as he came over and kicked me in the ribs. ‘Now get yourself up and bathed, you have a number of apologies to make, I’m thinking.’

  ‘Spare me this one thing John Buchan, I have not the courage to face that lass and her father this night.’

  ‘Why not? I have heard you apologise to men and women in the past.’

  ‘But this is different.’

  ‘Then all the more reason to g
et it over and done with quickly. Your bath is run and I’ve laid out your clothes.’

  He left at that and I struggled to my feet, I’ll swear it was the thought of soaking in that hot water that drove me up.

  Aye and soak I did for a good half hour before that demon returned with a bucket of water and fresh from the well I’ll warrant. I leapt from the tub howling with indignation.

  ‘What are ye about this night John Buchan? You’ll give me the pneumonia.’

  ‘I’d rather that than you die of shame, now come, get yourself dressed.’

  I caught the towel he threw at me and followed him through. ‘Why are you dressed in the custom of our grandfathers? You have some devilry afoot I’ll warrant.’

  ‘It was the great Laird himself that insulted those people and you will apologise looking like a great Laird.’

  I groaned with mental torment, but I knew my friend well and trusted him like no other. If he said this was the proper way then that it was. ‘You could have pleated my kilt for me,’ I teased.

  ‘Think yourself lucky I even touched that filthy rag. Pleat it yourself.’

  I did so with a grin on my face, we teased one another mercilessly about our families’ traditions and tartan. It was familiar territory on this most strange of days and I welcomed it. A bigger shock awaited me outside. John had two ponies saddled up ready to go.

  I frowned, ‘and what are these beasties all ready for Master John, why haven’t you got the car round?’

  ‘You will not be climbing in and out of a car this day I’m thinking, we’ll act like the Highland Gentlemen we are and go on horseback.’

  I frowned at him, my anger beginning to rise again, ‘we seem to be going to an awful lot of bother just to apologise.’

  He just grinned. ‘That we are, or should I say that you are.’

  Connie, John’s wife, appeared with a bunch of wild flowers and heather tied together with one of her best ribbons. ‘John, here are the flowers you wanted.’

  ‘Give them to the Laird, Connie.’

  I flushed scarlet as she held them up to me but I took them, scowling at John. ‘You will pay for this day John Buchan, and in blood I’m thinking.’