Revenge By Seduction. Alex Ryder

that, Morag,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not expecting a bed of roses.’ She finished her tea, then rose and said brightly, ‘Perhaps I will go to London. And if I do meet this wonderful man you say is waiting for me I’ll be sure to write and let you know.’

      An odd little smile played on Morag’s lips. ‘There will be no need for that, Catriona. I’ll know well enough when it happens. Now you’d better go home and break the news to your parents.’

      As things turned out she put off telling her parents until after supper that evening. Suddenly the only sound in the room was the heavy ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece as they both stared at her in silence.

      She sighed. ‘Well, don’t look so surprised. You must know it’s been on my mind for some time.’

      Her parents looked at each other in resignation, then her father nodded. ‘Aye, lass. We can’t say it’s come as a great surprise.’ He toyed with his pipe, then cleared his throat. ‘Where are you thinking of going?’

      ‘London.’

      ‘London!’ exclaimed her mother in horror. ‘But that’s so far away!’ She appealed to her husband, ‘Tell her not to go. You’re her father. She’s only a child!’

      ‘I’m an adult now,’ Catriona reminded her gently.

      Her mother sniffed. ‘Barely. You’re still a child as far as I’m concerned.’

      ‘Oh?’ She smiled. ‘Aren’t you forgetting that you were only eighteen when you married Dad? I dare say that Gran said the very same thing about you.’

      Her mother sniffed again, but her father chuckled. ‘She’s got you there, Jean. And a bonnie bride you were.’ He grinned at his daughter. ‘Don’t worry, lass. Your mother doesn’t think you’re ready for London, but I’m wondering if London is ready for you.’

      ‘I hear it’s an awfully wicked place,’ her mother warned, ‘Gangsters and drugs and terrible tap water you have to filter before you can drink it. Anyway, you were born and raised here. You’ll get lost. And all your friends are here.’

      ‘And they’re all in the same boat as me,’ she replied. ‘There’s no work here and I’ve been a burden to you long enough. I can’t let you go on supporting me for ever. I’ve got to stand on my own two feet.’ She smiled at both of them, then said quietly, ‘Besides, I don’t want to end up an old maid. You’ll be wanting grandchildren, won’t you?’

      ‘Aye…’ her mother said wistfully. ‘But I’d always hoped that one day you and Jamie Reid would…’

      Catriona gave a snort to indicate what she thought of a man who still let his old mother fetch the coal from the back shed.

      ‘She’s right,’ her father agreed. ‘There isn’t a lad in Kindarroch I’d want for a son-in-law. All the good ones leave here the first chance they get. They know there’s no future in the fishing now. They’ve all gone south to work in banks or factories.’

      Her mother sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. I even heard that the Harbour Hotel might soon be up for sale. Trade is that bad.’ She looked at Catriona sadly. ‘There’s no use me trying to make you change your mind. You’re just like your father. The McNeils always were a stubborn lot.’

      Catriona gave her a kiss on the cheek, then hugged her. ‘That’s why you married one, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll be as lucky as you were. Old Morag seems to think so.’

      It had been said in all innocence but her mother gave a start and her eyes widened. ‘When did you see Morag? Is she the one who’s been putting this idea into your head?’

      ‘Och, no,’ she answered lightly. ‘I helped her home with her shopping this morning and when we got there she invited me in for a cup of tea.’

      There was a shocked silence then, ‘You were inside her house?’

      ‘Aye. And I dare say you’d have done the same if she’d invited you. Anyway, I’d already made up my mind about leaving and I swear on my life I hadn’t told anyone. But she knew.’

      Her father scratched his head in amused wonder. ‘Aye…that’s Morag for you. There isn’t much goes on around here that she doesn’t know about.’

      ‘She has the second sight, right enough,’ her mother agreed in a respectful whisper. ‘It’s no wonder that the poor wee minister takes to drink whenever he sees her.’ She paused, then asked with bated breath, ‘What’s it like inside her house?’

      Catriona reassured her. ‘Well…it’s very old-fashioned but everything is clean and polished. And there wasn’t a black cat or crystal ball or black candle in sight, if that’s what you’re asking.’

      ‘Oh…’ It was a sound of disappointment. Then, ‘So what exactly did she tell you?’

      ‘She just said that I had nothing to worry about because I was a McNeil and the McNeils had always known how to look after themselves.’

      Again her mother sounded disappointed. ‘Is that all?’

      ‘Isn’t it enough?’ she asked, skilfully avoiding a direct answer. ‘Haven’t you always said that she has the “gift” and that she was a person you could trust?’

      ‘It’s good enough for me,’ her father said firmly. He bowed to the inevitable with good grace. ‘We’ll organise a wee going-away party for you in the hotel bar the night before you leave.’

      Her mother bit her lip, then nodded and gave a tired smile. ‘Aye…I suppose you’re right, Catriona. I always knew this day would come. But you’ll come back and see us as often as you can, won’t you?’

      ‘Of course I will, Mum.’ She hugged and kissed them both, then turned away quickly before they could see the tears forming in her eyes.

      CHAPTER TWO

      WHEN the flat was cleaned and tidied to her personal satisfaction Catriona peeked into Madge’s room. Madge was snoring gently, and, careful not to disturb her, Catriona closed the door quietly. Then she put on her coat and locked the flat door as she went out.

      The shop was only a ten-minute walk away. Since it was Sunday, a day usually spent lounging around and resting, Catriona was dressed informally in jeans and a loose white cotton sweater. And in spite of the ache in her heart she also wore her usual air of friendliness as she exchanged good mornings with the regulars she was beginning to recognise. Old Nellie who ran the florist shop next door to the boutique was busy setting up her usual brilliant display on the pavement outside and she ordered a bunch of flowers, telling Nellie she’d pick them up when she was finished.

      She made herself a cup of coffee, then, arming herself with a stock sheet from the cubby-hole which served as an office, she began checking the inventory in the rear stock room.

      The jaunty, carefree smile which she’d worn on the way here had merely been a front. Now that she was alone the mask had slipped, and there was a hard bitterness in her eyes and the downturn of her mouth.

      She tried her best, but ten minutes later she felt like giving up. At any other time stock-taking was a chore she could breeze through in half an hour, but this morning she was finding it impossible to concentrate. Her mind just wasn’t on the job. It was too preoccupied with dark feelings of betrayal and seething anger.

      How could she have been so stupid as to fall for that black-hearted devil? So the McNeils could look after themselves, could they? Well, here was one who obviously couldn’t. Had she surrendered herself to him so willingly because beneath all her pride she was nothing more than a gullible Highland peasant girl who still believed in the folk tales of her race? Tales about magic and dark lovers and old women who could foretell the future. Had she wanted to believe that Ryan Hind was the man she was destined to marry? Was that the reason she had so carelessly fallen in love with him? Had she been her own worst enemy?

      The