Free Semi-Detached Marriage by Sally Wentworth Page A

a broad Highland accent. `They told me to show you over the
house.'
    The house was large, much bigger than Cassie
had expected, and was well looked after and modernised. `This was originally
the local laird's house,' Simon told her. `He owned nearly the whole of Kinray
and all the land that the terminal's being built on. When our predecessors
bought it he moved out and went to live in the Bahamas on the proceeds, and the
company fully renovated and modernised this house. I understand that it had
been rather neglected for some time before that.'
    `Och, that it was, sir,' the maid, Mrs.
Campbell, confirmed. `The old laird didn't have a spare penny
to spend on it, and now they say he's a millionaire.'
            
    Cassie looked at the middle-aged woman
curiously. `Didn't you mind the oil terminal being built here?'
            
    'No, indeed,' the maid replied warmly. 'I've a
husband and three grown sons, and all of them out of work for years until the
oil came.'
    She took them up the wide wooden staircase
and insisted on showing them every corner of the house, right up into the top
storey bedrooms and down to the cellar before Simon thanked and gently
dismissed her and she reluctantly left them alone. They were standing in what
was probably the best room in the house.
    It had a high, ornately plastered ceiling and
the partly paneled walls were hung with a series of flower paintings. The floor
was of polished oak partly covered by a beautiful Indian carpet and the room
was warmed by the rich dark red velvet of the curtains as well as by the bright
log fire which burnt in the hearth and the sun which shone through the
sparklingly clean window panes. The furniture was mostly antique, but the
settee and armchairs were comfortable-looking modern re-productions in a pastel
pink flowered pattern.
            
    But however beautiful the room, it was the
view that drew Cassie's gaze. She walked over to the deep window embrasure with
its red-cushioned seat and looked down the long vista of the garden to where
the greenness of grass gave way to the soft amber of sand and the scintillating
lines of light that marked the crest of each wave as it moved into the shore,
only to burst into myriad rainbows of spray as they broke on the beach.
    For a while they both stood silently, then
Cassie sighed and said, 'You were right, it is beautiful.'
    Simon came up behind her and put his hands on
her shoulders. 'I'm glad you like it.'
    He spoke lightly, but Cassie could feel the
tension in his fingers as he waited for her to give her decision. And it would
have been so easy to have given in, to say, Yes, all right, I'll do what you
want. I'll give up my job and come here with you. And for a while it would have
been worth it, to see Simon's face light up with happiness and triumph and have
him show her how much he loved her for it. But she knew that it wouldn't be
long before this beautiful house would seem like a prison and her naturally
happy disposition begin to be eaten away by frustration and bitterness. She
loved Simon very much, but she didn't know if it was strong enough to survive
something like that. She owed it to them both to be honest, to say how she
really felt.
    Simon was saying. 'I've never seen such a
magnificent piece of landscape.'
    Deliberately Cassie moved out of his hold and
turned to face him. 'No. But who was it who said that landscape can become
extremely tedious when that's all there is?'
    He looked at her for a moment, then shoved
his hands in his trouser pockets; a habit he had when he didn't want to show
his emotions. 'Does that mean what I suppose it does?'
    'That I won't come to live here? Yes, I'm
afraid it does.'
    He gave a short, mirthless laugh. 'I was
stupid to hope that this place would change your mind, I suppose, but
nevertheless I clung to that. I thought that if anything could persuade you it
would be this house.'     
     'I'm sorry,' Cassie said inadequately. 'I
know how