Heir To Glengyle. Miriam Macgregor

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