Free The House of the Laird by Susan Barrie

she was, and, moreover, that in spite of the kindliness and the gentleness in her expression there was some extra quality which would be difficult to combat if, and when, her mind was made up about something, feeling of almost profound dismay descended upon her. She felt exactly as if the suggestion had been made that she desert a proven and safe harbor for all the unknown dangers of the high seas, and she stammered:
    “Go-go back with you?”
    “Yes, my dear, I think it’s a splendid idea!” Having given birth to the idea Mrs. Montagu-Jackson beamed at her again. “I’ve a young man coming to stay with me next week—my godson, Aubrey Ainsworth, who is beginning to make a name for himself as one of these futuristic painters, or whatever they call themselves—and with Fiona, who has promised to stay with me more or less indefinitely, we shall be quite a jolly party. I simply love having people to stay with me, and what you badly need, my child, is a change. You ’ ve been cooped up here long enough, and however devoted you are to Iain it will be good for both of you to have a breather from one another for a short while at least. ”
    She looked across at her nephew and instantly claimed his attention by announcing that she had formed what she was convinced was an excellent plan. When he had heard what the plan was he, like Karen, looked a little taken aback. Then one o f his dark eyebrows ascended half humorously.
    “Is that really necessary?” he asked. I mean, don’t you think Mrs. Burns—to say nothing of Annie, and Prout, and George, who also live in the house—can provide adequate chaperonage for Karen. O r are you afraid she’s being neglected? I can assure you she’s looking very, very muc h better now than she did when she first came here— ”
    “My dear boy, none of that enters into it, ” his aunt assured him, waving the remains of her specially blended cigarette in the air. “ I ’ m not old-fashioned, as you know, and I’d trust Mrs. Burns to look after even the most guileless young creature who entered your house. But Karen ’ s had a bout of illness and been confined to one place for far to o lon g , with no companionship save your own, and I feel that if she’s going to get redly well and strong a g ain something will have to be done about it. I can look after her just as well as you can, you know, and Fiona can lend a hand. In fact, we shall just love having her.”
    “Of course we will,” Fiona put in swiftly, in a soft and slightly husky voice, which Karen had already decided was one of the most attractive things about her. Another attractive thing was the way her golden eyes melted whenever she was just about to break into a smile, and the almost tender curve of her full scarlet lips when the smile touched them was something, almost, to watch for. It made of the smile a thing of indescribable charm, with the power to bestow something in the nature of a caress. “It will be really nice.”
    Iain turned to her, an i ronical gleam in his eyes.
    “ You think so?” he asked.
    “I do,” she assured him. “And I agree with your aunt that it is a little dull here for Karen at the present stage of her convalescence, but unlike your aunt I am a little bit old-fashioned, and I do feel that in Karen’s best interests, even if you’re proposing to get married very soon, it will be as well if she doesn’t remain here under your roof more or less indefinitely—until you get married, that is!”
    He regarded her with an odd curve to his lips.
    “And the fact that she has already been here a month shocks you rather badly, does it?” he enquired in the driest of tones.
    “Not at all, darling,” she answered soothingly—she even placed one of her white hands lightly, caressingly, on his arm— “ but it has probably shocked Mrs. Burns , if one were in a position to find out the truth! And now that you’re no longer cut off by weather condition, and we are only too willing to carry