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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 laughed. ‘That wasn’t clever. It was merely family unity at work.’ There was no need to tell him about the sisters’ fetish about family, she decided.
* * *
Next morning Amy appeared to be thoughtful. She said little at the breakfast table, and by mid-morning she was beginning to yawn. ‘I hardly slept a wink,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘For most of the night I lay thinking about my sister. The thought of never seeing her again made me cry, and now I feel a wreck.’
Baird spoke eagerly. ‘Ah, but you made a decision. You’ll come with me to New Zealand, and you’ll stay in my house until you’ve met my parents? I’ve already told you that Lola from next door will help you with anything you need.’
Amy said, ‘Yes, you’re right. It went round and round in my mind, and I did come to a decision. I decided that if I go to New Zealand with you it will be only on one condition.’ The expression on her face had become stubborn.
Baird frowned. ‘Condition? What do you mean?’
‘I want Cathie to be with me—on the flight and in your house. No doubt this Lola person is kindly and capable, but she’s a stranger, whereas Cathie is—family.’
‘Cathie herself has suggested this to you?’ he queried silkily. ‘Perhaps it was while helping you dress this morning?’
‘Indeed she did not,’ Amy retorted. ‘I have not discussed it with her. Are you saying you object to her being with us?’
Baird stared at her but remained silent.
Cathie laid a hand on Amy’s arm, then leaned forward to say in a low voice, ‘Can’t you see that he doesn’t want me in his house?’
‘Why not?’ Amy demanded sharply.
‘Have you forgotten that I’m a—a Campbell?’
Amy became impatient. ‘This is sheer nonsense. My dear, you are already in his house.’
Cathie felt confused. ‘His house? But—didn’t his father inherit this house?’
‘No, he did not,’ Amy declared bluntly. ‘Baird became the heir to the Glengyle Estate, not his father.’ She turned to him in a weary manner. ‘Why don’t you explain what happened? I’m feeling too tired to try and sort it out.’
Baird’s shoulders lifted slightly. ‘It was the story of a crusty old man not getting his own way. He expected my father to take over his interests and to be ready to step into his shoes. But Father had other ideas. He wanted to build something for himself—which was exactly what Grandfather had done when he’d been young.’
Amy put in, ‘Naturally, at that time Baird’s grandmother was alive, you understand.’
Baird went on, ‘To make matters worse, my father and his fiancée decided to emigrate to New Zealand. It was during a period when our immigration laws made this quite easy to do, but because they were not yet married the old man was sure they’d be living in what he called sin. My grandmother became very upset about it, and he declared it brought on her long illness. He never forgave my father, and before his death he made out his will in favour of me instead of his son.’
The silence which followed his words was broken by Cathie. ‘You are obviously very like your grandfather,’ she said quietly.
‘What makes you so sure of that?’ he demanded abruptly, his eyes glinting with suspicion.
She forced a smile. ‘It’s easy to see you’ve inherited more than Glengyle. You’ve also been endowed with his unforgiving streak, and even now you’re well on the way to becoming a crusty old man.’
‘Thank you,’ he rasped, his jaw tightening.
Amy heaved a deep sigh. ‘Well—I suppose there’s no more to be said. I’ll ask Elspeth to put my two suitcases back under the stairs. I can see it’s quite useless.’
His dark brows shot up. ‘You’d actually reached the suitcase stage? This I can scarcely believe—’
‘Yes—but unless Cathie is with me I’ll not budge an inch.’
Eagerly, he turned to Cathie. ‘You’ll come with us, of course.’
She returned his gaze steadily. ‘I’m not so sure. I’m not amused by being with a man who resents my presence—and as for staying in his house, that’s the last thing I wish to do.’
‘But you’ll do it for Amy’s sake,’ he declared smugly.
‘If I refuse to do it, my grandmother will kill me,’ she said.
Unexpectedly, he reached across the table to take her hand, and, his face unsmiling, he said in a serious tone of voice, ‘Miss Campbell—I hereby invite you to be a guest in this, and in my New Zealand home.’
She snatched her hand away. ‘I accept, Mr MacGregor—but only on sufferance.’
Amy became exasperated. ‘Really, you two—if I hear any more of this Mr and Miss business I’ll bang your heads together.’
Baird laughed. ‘You and who else, Amy?’
‘Elspeth will be delighted to help me,’ she snapped at him.
He laughed again. ‘Before you start I’ll remove myself in the direction of the travel agent. There are arrangements to be made. You don’t mind how soon we leave?’
She hesitated, then admitted, ‘There’s just one place I’d like to visit before going so far away—if you wouldn’t mind driving me there.’
His expression and voice softened. ‘You know I’ll take you anywhere, Amy. Where is this place?’ he asked gently.
She took a deep breath then said, ‘I’ll like to take a last look at the Braes of Balquhidder. There’s a church there—as well as Rob Roy’s grave. Your grandparents often attended church services there, and sometimes, after your grandmother’s death, he would go there to sit alone with his thoughts. Later, after we were married, he occasionally took me to attend a service.’
‘I’ll take you tomorrow,’ Baird promised. ‘Today you must rest and makeup for the sleep you lost last night.’ He then turned to Cathie, his face still unsmiling. ‘If you’ll give me your flight ticket I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you to be with us.’
‘Thank you—I’ll fetch it,’ Cathie said, and as she went upstairs she felt overwhelmed by Baird’s kindness towards her great-aunt. Unexpectedly, she found herself wishing that the affection he gave to Amy included herself—but it didn’t. He was merely tolerating her presence in his house for Amy’s sake.
As soon as he’d left Amy was persuaded to return to bed for a short sleep while Elspeth began sorting through clothes she considered should be taken to New Zealand. Cathie found herself unable to get Baird out of her mind, and was conscious of his absence. She felt at a slight loss, so she made her way to the small library where she discovered that one of the shelves held a row of books, each giving a history of the various Scottish clans.
Here was her chance to learn of her own Clan Campbell, but for some reason she was unable to define she passed over it in favour of the book entitled Clan MacGregor. She carried it to an easy-chair, then settled down to read.
During the next two hours she became lost in the fighting days of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries when most of the clans had been at each other’s throats. The MacGregors had merely done what everyone else was doing, except that they’d done it so much better, until eventually they’d brought sufficient trouble upon their own heads to have the entire clan outlawed and exiled.
She learnt that this state of affairs had come about in 1602 after a fight at Glenfruin when Clan Colquhoun planned to trap the MacGregors. It had resulted in more than two hundred Colquhoun widows taking their husbands’ blood-stained shirts to lay before James VI at Stirling Castle. Each shirt had been carried on a spear.
Cathie shuddered at the thought, then continued reading to learn how the MacGregors had then had their lands taken from them, and had been hunted down by bloodhounds and beagles. Nobody who killed a MacGregor could be punished, and Government rewards had been paid for any MacGregor heads brought in. By Act of Parliament they had not been permitted to use the name of MacGregor.
Years later, because of the clan’s support, the Act was repealed by Charles II. The words gave Cathie a feeling of relief until she read on to discover that it had been renewed by William of Orange when the clan had ranged itself on the side of the Jacobites, and Bonny Prince Charlie. Not until 1775, she learnt, had the penal statutes against the MacGregors finally been repealed.
She had become so engrossed that she failed to hear Baird’s return until a sound caused her to look up and discover him watching her from the doorway. The expression on his face made her feel as if she’d been caught spying, but she met his gaze defiantly.
‘You’re taking the opportunity to read about your clan history?’ he queried, coming further into the room.
‘No—I’ve been delving into your clan history,’ she admitted with satisfaction. ‘Most interesting, I must say—especially the story of the Glenfruin fight and its results.’ She left the chair and replaced the book on the shelf, then swept past him to leave the room, but paused in the doorway to fling at him vehemently, ‘Don’t you dare throw Campbell atrocities at me. Your own clan has a long list that will match any you can produce.’ And, feeling she had won that particular round, she ran upstairs.
A short time later he handed her flight ticket across the lunch table. She saw that its Economy class had been altered to Singapore Raffles class, which was more expensive and gave greater comfort. ‘I shall pay the difference,’ she declared with dignity.
‘You can argue about it with Amy,’ he retorted coldly.
But when Amy vowed she knew nothing about it Cathie realised that Baird had paid the extra money and that she’d have little hope of forcing him to accept repayment. She then regretted her words to him in the library.
* * *
The next afternoon Cathie found herself in the back seat of Amy’s car while Baird drove them to Balquhidder. The road left Crieff to twist and wind through hilly tree-studded valleys, passing solidly built country homesteads with their equally solidly built barns. At times the roadside was colourful with a tall pink or white feathery weed, but it was the purple of the hillside heather that really caused her to catch her breath in sheer delight.
There were times when Baird caught and held her gaze in the rear-view mirror, his frowning reflection causing her to wonder if he resented her presence as much as she suspected. In an effort to brush away the feeling of discomfort she dragged her attention away towards the black-faced sheep and brown shaggy-coated Highland cattle grazing peacefully in the fields.
The long narrow waters of Loch Earn were seen through the trees, and at its head Amy gave directions to turn left, and a couple of miles further on to turn right. ‘This road leads to the Braes of Balquhidder and Loch Voil,’ she informed them.
‘What are braes?’ Cathie felt compelled to ask.
‘They’re slopes at the sides of a river valley,’ Amy explained. ‘And a narrow valley is what we call a glen.’
The tree-lined road followed the contour of the hills through the glen, eventually reaching a small hillside church with its cluster of graves. Beside it were the stone-walled ruins of an earlier church, while only a short distance away the still waters of Lock Voil lay glistening at the base of encircling heather-clad hills.
Baird drove up the short rise and stopped the car in the church parking area. He opened the door for Amy, who got out a little stiffly with one hand gripping her walking stick, and he then led her towards the headstones.
Cathie lingered behind, hesitating to intrude into these moments of nostalgia, but Amy’s voice called to her.
‘Come over here, dear. I’ll show you the grave of the most famous MacGregor of them all. You’ve heard of Rob Roy, of course. He has become a Robin Hood type of legend and was the finest guerilla fighter of his day.’
Cathie joined them to stand at the grave which contained the remains of not only Rob Roy, but also of his wife Mary, and two of his sons. On the simple dark stone above them were three words. ‘MACGREGOR DESPITE THEM.’
Amy went on to explain, ‘Those words come from the old song, “The MacGregors’ Gathering”, which state, “MacGregor despite them shall flourish forever.” They’re easily understood when you know of the clan’s trials and tribulations, and how they were outlawed.’
Her words were followed by a silence broken only by the singing of a thrush. It was perched directly behind them on the stone gable of the ruined church with its date of 1631, and as they turned to look up at it Amy said casually, ‘No doubt you know that Rob Roy’s mother was a Campbell, therefore when his own name was forbidden to be used he took the name of Campbell.’
Cathie began to giggle. ‘Yes—I read about it yesterday in the library.’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry—one shouldn’t laugh in a cemetery.’
The thrush sang even louder. It was almost as though it understood the situation, and was also having a hearty laugh.
Baird took Amy’s arm again and they made their way towards the more recent church that stood on higher ground. It appeared to be built of stone similar to the ruined church, and as she entered its cool interior Cathie became conscious of its peaceful atmosphere.
Strangely, the frustrations that Baird seemed to stir within her were wiped away, and she felt an inner happiness while standing beside him to run her hand over the font which had been gouged out of a large hunk of local stone at some unknown earlier date.
The feeling of peace was still with her as they stood close together to examine the bell of the old church which bore the date of 1684. But suddenly her spirits plummeted as she learnt that the Session Chest upon which it rested had belonged to ‘Black Duncan’ Campbell of Glenorchy who had died in 1631, and who had been a ruthless persecutor of Clan MacGregor.
The knowledge made her feel sick, and she moved from Baird’s side to where Amy was putting money in the donation box. Baird followed her, and as she opened her handbag to follow Amy’s example he spoke in a dry tone.
‘I trust the spirits in this place won’t look upon that as tainted money.’
Amy caught his words. She looked at him in a reproving manner then said, ‘Come—I’ll show you where your grandparents used to sit.’ She then led the way towards the front pews, the firm tapping of her walking stick indicating that she was displeased.
Baird and Cathie followed meekly until they were four pews from the front, where Amy had paused.
‘Cathie, sit in there,’ the older woman commanded while pointing at the pew seat with her stick. ‘Baird, you will sit beside her. You will hold her hand.’
