If Love Be Love Read online

  ‘The dance, please,’ she answered. Then as he turned away and walked to the door she came to a decision and said,

  ‘Logan, wait!’

  Hand on the door knob, he looked back at her, his eyebrows raised in polite inquiry.

  ‘Well?’

  Nancy took a deep breath, knowing that the decision she had just reached was going to hurt herself as much as anyone.

  ‘Linda and I won’t come diving any more ... and I would prefer it if ... if you didn’t bring Neil to the cottage to stay with me. I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but there’s been some gossip amongst the crofters, and...’

  ‘I see.’ His light eyes were diamond bright and about as hard.

  ‘And naturally you would prefer not to be gossiped about because you’re engaged and because you’re expecting your fiancé to visit you. I understand perfectly. Although I’ve no doubt that both Linda and Neil will be disappointed, it shall be as you wish. And now if you’re ready I’ll take you to the village hall.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Time which had passed so quickly ever since she had arrived at Lanmore dragged slowly all the next week. Nancy tried to convince herself that the weather was to blame. It was cold and blustery, making the performance of outdoor work difficult and uncomfortable.

  By keeping her mind on the forthcoming visit of Rod she managed to get through the days without too many backward glances at the evening she had been alone with Logan at the Lodge. By Friday lunch time, however, she was ready to admit she was losing the battle with her pride and that not only was she missing Neil, but she was also missing Logan and the quiet moments they had spent together in the garden.

  As she washed up the lunch dishes she wondered why the most disturbing thoughts occurred when she was doing the most mundane jobs. Here she was at the kitchen sink and the memory of Logan’s kiss had to catch her unawares. She rattled the dishes with unnecessary vigour as she assured herself that the memory would fade as would the memory of his gentleness when she had cried. Meanwhile both were vivid, and the thought that she would experience neither again left her with a strange aching feeling of sadness.

  ‘The weather is clearing up,’ announced Linda, coming into the scullery, as usual too late to be of much help. ‘I hope we’ll be able to go diving to-morrow. Logan hasn’t been to see us all week. Do you think he’s away?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I might as well tell you now, we shan’t be going diving with him again and he won’t be bringing Neil here again.’

  Incredulous dismay puckered Linda’s forehead and caused the corners of her mouth to droop.

  ‘Why? Is he tired of us?’ she asked.

  It would be the easy way out to let her believe that had happened, thought Nancy, but it would not be fair to Logan.

  ‘No. I asked him not to take us diving and not to bring Neil here any more.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why should you do that?’ asked Linda. ‘I thought you enjoyed the diving as much as Don and I did. I thought you liked looking after Neil.’

  She stared at Nancy, puzzlement clouding her brown eyes. Nancy said nothing and started to put away the dishes she had washed and dried.

  ‘You did it deliberately,’ blurted Linda suddenly. ‘To spoil my fun. Oh, isn’t it typical!’

  ‘That wasn’t the reason at all, Lin,’ said Nancy patiently. ‘I’ve been doubtful all the time about us becoming too involved with Logan. I didn’t think he would come to see us so often and I didn’t think there would be gossip about—’

  ‘Gossip?’ exclaimed Linda. ‘I don’t care a hoot about gossip. I bet Logan doesn’t either.’

  ‘Well, I do. I’ve had enough of Ian Macrae’s sly digs about the laird’s interest in us. Apart from that I happen to be engaged and Rod will soon be here, and I wouldn’t like him to be upset by anything the neighbours might say. You know how they talk to complete strangers about everyone else’s business.’

  This characteristic of their neighbours had amused the Allans at first. Now Nancy was very much aware of how it might affect Rod when he came.

  ‘You mean the crofters think that you and Logan ... Well!’ Linda went off into shrieks of laughter. ‘That’s really funny, especially when we know he doesn’t particularly like you.’

  Although she was glad that Linda’s anger had been changed to laughter Nancy could not help feeling hurt by her sister’s comment.

  ‘How can he like you when you’re always arguing with him?’ went on Linda. ‘Men like Logan dislike bossy women.’

  “How do you know what men like and dislike?’ snapped Nancy, thoroughly nettled by the implication that she was bossy.

  Linda gave her a slow infuriating sidelong glance.

  ‘I bet I know more about what men like than you did at my age,’ she said slyly.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ riposted Nancy rather weakly.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ asserted Linda with a toss of her head. ‘But you needn’t worry, I can take care of myself. And now I think I’ll phone Logan to tell him that I would like to go diving with him, no matter what you say. After all, I’m not engaged.’

  ‘You will do nothing of the sort!’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? I’m not afraid of gossip.’

  ‘If you phone him you’ll make yourself look ridiculous, a girl of fifteen chasing a man who’s twice her age.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ replied the defiant Linda. ‘And I’m nearly sixteen.’

  She went through to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. Nancy followed her, although short of snatching the instrument from Linda there was nothing she could do. She could only hope that Logan’s common sense would lead him to give Linda the set-down she was asking for. On the other hand there was always the chance he might be flattered by Linda’s interest. Nancy closed her eyes and groaned at the thought.

  At that moment there was a knock at the front door. To her dismay her heart leapt at the sound as she thought immediately that it might be Logan tired of his nephew’s company and looking for someone to entertain the child.

  Linda must have thought the same because she put down the receiver and ran out into the little hallway and flung wide the door.

  ‘Hello, dear. Is your sister at home?’ asked an unmistakable silvery English voice. ‘Neil wants to see her. He’s been bored to tears, poor child ... the weather, you know, so I thought we’d pop over to see how you all are.’

  It was Mary Maclaine. Pink-cheeked and smiling, not a hair of her blue-rinsed coiffure out of place, her pleated tweed skirt and thin woollen twin-set ideal for the cool August day, she was a welcome intrusion. Beside her Neil clung to her hand, but when he saw Nancy he ran forward arid flung his arms around her and burst out,

  ‘Wickedunclelogan said you didn’t want to mind me any more and I thought you didn’t like me. You do like me, don’t you?’

  Silently Nancy reproved the absent Logan for being too honest with the little boy and for causing him unnecessary hurt. She ruffled the child’s blond hair and smiled down at him.

  ‘Yes, I like you, but it isn’t always possible for me to look after you. It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Maclaine. Do sit down and we’ll make some tea. Linda, would you put the kettle on, please.’

  Linda glowered sulkily and went out into the scullery while Mary settled in a chair by the fire and Neil rummaged in a drawer for the paints and paper he knew were kept there for him.

  ‘That will be very pleasant,’ said Mary. ‘I’d have come sooner if it hadn’t been for Logan saying that on no account was Neil to bother you. You’re very popular with the child and I hear that he and Logan have been seeing you often recently. I hope they haven’t been making a convenience of you?’

  ‘Oh, no, I liked looking after Neil. He’s no trouble,’ said Nancy vaguely. ‘And Logan has been very kind to us all...’

  ‘Yes, he can be generous when he wants.’ Mary sighed a little.

  ‘It’s all as well to remember that when he behaves
selfishly. Keith and I had hardly arrived with the boys on Sunday ... we found him in a very sour and restless mood ... when he announced that he was off to Europe immediately and that he’d be glad if I would look after Neil until Tuesday when Anya would arrive. I expect he told you she was coming?’

  ‘No, he didn’t mention her,’ replied Nancy slowly. ‘I didn’t know you were coming either.’

  Her grand gesture of deciding not to go diving with Logan, of not looking after Neil any more, of cutting all contact with Logan, had been wasted after all. With the arrival of the rest of the Maclaine family it was doubtful if the Allans would have been invited to go diving again and certainly Neil would not have wanted to stay with them when his mother arrived. How amused Logan must have been by her grand airs? She felt suddenly deflated.

  ‘Didn’t you? Well, I suppose there was really no reason why he should tell you. Keith and I always come a few days before the Twelfth, to get settled in before the shooting starts.’

  ‘The shooting?’ repeated Nancy vaguely.

  ‘Oh, Nancy!’ exclaimed Linda disgustedly. ‘The grouse shooting.’ She had returned from the scullery and was sitting contentedly with Neil. ‘Don’t you remember Logan asking Don if he would like to be a beater, to rouse the grouse out of their hiding places on the moors?’

  Mary Maclaine smiled at her.

  ‘I can see you are getting to know the Highland customs,’ she commented. ‘Now where was I? Oh, yes. Logan said Anya would arrive on Tuesday. On Monday she rang up from London and asked to speak to him. I had to tell her he had gone to Austria to a race for sports prototypes and she said in her strange abrupt manner, “Damn, I forgot the Grand Prix. I won’t come north to-morrow. I’ll fly over to join him and Stan. I’ll travel back to Lanmore with him.” Then she rang off. Not a word about the child.’

  ‘Who is Stan?’ asked Nancy.

  ‘Stan Black, the racing car designer. He designed the cars Logan and Angus used to race in. You know, I hope Logan isn’t thinking of taking up racing again. I have a feeling he hadn’t intended to go to Austria ... that something had upset him and that he’d decided to go on the spur of the moment. Anyway, Keith is furious with both him and Anya, says neither of them give a thought for anyone else. Now tell me about yourselves. You’ve made a difference to the house.’

  They chatted, the kettle boiled and tea was made. Outside the clouds lifted and pale yellow sunlight appeared. It was almost four o’clock. Rod would be preparing to leave Dulthorpe. He would be setting out in his little car, heading west, taking no chances, cutting no corners, cautious and careful as ever.

  And what would Logan be doing? The thought sprang unbidden into Nancy’s mind, sweeping the image of Rod away. Would the Grand Prix still be taking place? She realised suddenly that she was completely ignorant about car-racing. It was true she had heard Don talking about Formula One and sports prototypes, but she really hadn’t any idea what either meant. She hadn’t known there was a race held in Austria called a Grand Prix. She must ask him later what sort of cars raced in it and whether he thought Logan would go back to racing. And then thinking of the danger involved she found herself hoping fervently that he would not.

  Rod arrived at five o’clock the next day. Fortunately the sun had shone all day and the scenery looked at its best, the mountains clear-cut, every ridge and cranny defined, the water of the loch smooth and shining.

  Tall and fair, neatly and conventionally dressed in a tweed sports jacket, dark trousers and a blue shirt and tie, Rod looked at his best too, and at first Nancy was glad to see him. He was a known quantity. She knew where she stood with him and could predict, or so she thought, his reactions and consequently knew what to say to him.

  After a brief embrace he walked with her through the garden to the cottage, his narrowed blue gaze roving over the bee-loud, flower-scented borders and the shaggy shrubbery.

  ‘Hmm. You don’t seem to have the garden in very good shape, Nancy,’ he observed in his clipped crisp voice. ‘You’ll have to do better than this when we get our own house.’

  His critical comment surprised Nancy. She had not known that the town-bred Rod was interested in gardens. Here was a reaction she had not predicted and as a result she was defensive immediately.

  ‘Oh, don’t you like it? I do ... and Logan loves it.’

  The last words were said without thinking and she was surprised again, this time at her own imprudence.

  ‘Logan ... Logan?’ repeated Rod in his quick staccato fashion. ’Sounds Irish to me. Who is he anyway?’

  ‘Not Irish in this case. He’s the laird and owns all the land on Lanmore,’ replied Nancy, and even to her own ears she sounded cool and reticent as if regretting the mention of Logan’s name.

  ‘Oh, you mean the chap who didn’t want Don to take over the croft. Isn’t it odd for him to be on visiting terms? You never mentioned him in your letters.’

  Rod’s voice was sharp and his eyes inquisitive and Nancy wished she had kept silent on the subject of the garden and Logan. How unlike her it was to behave so foolishly!

  ‘Didn’t I?’ she said brightly. ‘That just shows how unimportant I think he is. I’m sure you must be hungry and tired of driving. We’ll have a meal and then I’ll take you to meet Miss Macrae. You’ll sleep in her house and have your meals with us, except for breakfast. I hope the arrangements will suit you, Rod.’

  ‘I hope they will too. It’s nice to know you have everything organised as usual,’ he said, with one more critical glance at the garden.

  After a few days Nancy was beginning to wish that Rod had never made the comment about her having everything organised, because everything that could go wrong with his holiday had gone wrong. In the first place he had taken a dislike to Miss Macrae.

  ‘I can’t think why you thought I would be comfortable in her house,’ he complained one morning when he arrived after breakfast. ‘Every time I turn over the bed creaks. I’ve inspected it carefully because I’m convinced it’s going to collapse with me in it one night.’

  Linda gurgled with unrestrained laughter.

  ‘Oh, what a joke if it did!’ she said, unthinkingly.

  ‘You may find it funny, but I don’t,’ said Rod, frowning at her repressively. ‘And another thing ... I believe your precious Miss Macrae is a secret drinker.’

  ‘Whatever makes you think that? She seems perfectly normal to me,’ said Nancy, who was having difficulty in suppressing her temper.

  ‘Maybe she does, but you don’t visit her late at night. Every night when I’ve left you and gone over there she’s come out of her kitchen and invited me in to have “a wee drop” as she calls it. Each time she’s been very charming but a little on the talkative side. Then last night when I went in there were three men and two other women sitting there. She introduced me and then sat down at her harmonium and began to play it... and not very well at that, and she began to sing in Gaelic.’

  ‘I’m told that when she was young she sang very well and won medals at the Mod,’ murmured Nancy.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Rod.

  ‘A singing competition for choirs and individual singers. It’s held every year at places like Oban and Inverness and people from all over Scotland enter for it.’

  ‘Well, after she had finished the others sang too—no words, just sounds.’

  ‘Port a beul ... mouth music,’ exclaimed Linda proudly, showing off her newly acquired Gaelic pronunciation. ‘She made a ceilidh for you. You should feel honoured, Rod.’

  ‘Should I?’ was his sardonic remark. ‘All the time the whisky bottle was going round. I went to bed, but they were still singing after midnight ... and this morning she wasn’t up and I didn’t get any breakfast.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Nancy, making an effort not to laugh. He sounded so put out. ‘You’d better come and stay with us. I’m sure Don won’t mind sleeping down here and letting you have his room.’

  ‘No, no, that wouldn’t be right from the point of view
of propriety, as I said in my letter.’

  ‘What has propriety to do with it?’ asked Linda, mischief dancing in her eyes.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Nancy. ‘It doesn’t matter, Rod. Don is here and everyone knows we’re going to be married.’

  ‘No.’ He was quite adamant. ‘I stay where I am.’

  ‘I could ask Meg Macrae,’ persisted Nancy. ‘She would let you sleep there, but I know Miss Macrae would be terribly hurt if I do. She’s so kind ... and was very grateful when I asked her if she could put you up. Evidently she used to take in summer visitors and then gradually they stopped coming.’

  ‘I’m not surprised if they had to sleep in that bed, and if they discovered her drinking habits. Honestly, Nancy, I’m not joking. I opened a cupboard on the landing upstairs and it was full of empty bottles.’

  ‘I hope you don’t go snooping through our cupboards,’ Nancy retorted, her irritation with his complaints getting the better of her. ‘You might find something in them that you don’t approve of.’

  ‘I was not snooping, Nancy!’ he declared indignantly.

  It was one of the many little frictions which occurred between them. It seemed to Nancy that he found nothing right in the Highlands. He criticised everything, even the natural beauty of the landscape, saying that it didn’t compare with anything he’d seen in the Mediterranean. He did it to such an extent that one day Linda was roused enough to say it was a pity he hadn’t gone there for his holiday. After reprimanding her for bad manners he left the room and went into the garden where Nancy found him, spade in hand, about to dig up a lovely clump of forget-me-nots.

  ‘No, no, leave them, Rod. Please don’t touch anything. It may not be as tidy and as productive as you would like a garden to be, but it’s natural and lovely, a quiet place which the birds visit.’

  He leaned on the spade and looked down at her, his blue eyes speculative.

  ‘Too quiet for me,’ he remarked. ‘And Lanmore isn’t the sort of place I would normally take my holiday. I can see that you and Don like it. You like the eccentric characters, the silence, the “God’s own time” atmosphere. I must say I’m surprised, though, that anyone as active and with as much initiative as you have should have stayed here as long as you have...’