Free Moreton's Kingdom by Jean S. Macleod Page B

away from the house. It was full of an artist’s paraphernalia, brushes and old jars and squeezed-out tubes of paint jostling each other for pride of place on the work bench, while wonderfully lifelike little animals looked down at them from the shelves along the walls. Sandy went straight to a table in a corner, standing before it with a look of awe in his round blue eyes.
    ‘Can I really have it?’ he asked, gazing at the beautifully carved figure of a little bear without actually touching it.
    ‘I made it especially for you.’ Emma’s voice was exquisitely tender.
    When she looked at Sandy her eyes lost much of their hardness and she was no longer cynical. Her work evidently meant a great deal to her and she had carved the little bear with love in her heart. Looking at her, Katherine saw Emma’s rather plain face transfigured by her affection for the child, a little boy who might have been her own.
    Hastily she turned away to examine the other sculptures and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. It seemed as if Sandy had been a frequent visitor to the hotel when all was well with his parents’ marriage and he had been happy and content there with Emma. And Emma herself? There was a strange new glow about her as she spoke to the child which could be a reflection of what she felt for his father.
    They’re not suited, Katherine thought—the arty-crafty Emma and down-to-earth Charles!
    Emma came to stand by her side.
    ‘I hear you’re going to Glassary,’ she said.
    ‘I’m being taken to Glassary!’ corrected Katherine. ‘Charles thinks I’ll be safer there under his command. It’s outrageous, of course,’ she added angrily. ‘It’s going right back to the Middle Ages when people did these things!’
    Emma smiled.
    ‘He won’t keep you at Glassary any longer than he can help,’ she declared. ‘You’ll be free to go as soon as your car is repaired, I understand. Charles isn’t the ogre you appear to think him and he’s far from being the feudal overlord, believe me. He’s a very busy man, as a matter of fact, running an estate and a lucrative business in Edinburgh into the bargain. Don’t underestimate him.’
    She turned back to Sandy, who was now clutching the wooden bear.
    ‘Your work is beautiful,’ Katherine said impulsively, ‘but why are so many of your sculptures unfinished?’
    Emma looked thoughtful.
    ‘Let’s say I’m out of inspiration,’ she decided. ‘It sounds better than having to admit that I’m lazy.’
    The bitterness had crept back into her voice, although she still looked at Sandy with a fondness which could not be denied. It would be little use appealing to Emma for understanding, Katherine thought, far less help.
    Charles came in search of them.
    ‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘I’d like to make Glassary before lunch.’
    ‘I’ve got a bear!’ Sandy rejoiced, slipping his free hand into his father’s. ‘An’ he’s got a stick to help him walk.’
    ‘Is that what it is?’' Charles laughed, glancing in Emma’s direction with a twinkle in his eye.
    ‘Perhaps he’s a lame bear,’ suggested Sandy with a frown. ‘Perhaps he needs a stick to help him.’
    Charles turned away, a look in his eyes which Katherine found difficult to fathom, while a dark, angry colour stole into Emma’s cheeks.
    ‘I hope we’ll see you again before you go back south,’ she said to Charles. ‘I hope there’ll be no more complications.’
    Charles was looking idly in Katherine’s direction.
    ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘We’ve got the ball in our court now.’
    Mrs. Falkland came to say goodbye.
    ‘I’m glad we met,’ she said unexpectedly, holding Katherine’s hand for the conventional few seconds. ‘I expect you’ll be continuing your holiday as soon as your car is repaired.’
    There was an odd, waiting silence before Katherine answered.
    ‘I haven’t come very far out of my way,’ she confessed, ‘and I had no very definite plans.’
    She knew that she