Free The House of the Laird by Susan Barrie Page A

Karen away with us, I don’t really think you ought to oppose your aunt’s suggestion.”
    “I haven’t said I’m going to oppose it,” he answered, a little shortly. “But it’s rattier limited notice, and I don’t know that Karen ought to go out again today. It’s not as fine as it was yesterday —”
    “ Darling ,” Fiona laughed softly, beside him, “a journey of three or four miles, and no more, in a closed and heated car? Isn’t your concern a little excessive, and aren’t you afraid that you won’t see as much of her as you have done? Which simply means that we shall expect you to visit us very often, and that will be nice for all of us.”
    “Very nice,” Aunt Horatia agreed.
    He looked across at Karen with an expression she had never seen on his face before. She felt that behind it lay a feeling of annoyance, mixed with the conviction that he was temporarily cornered, and that he also saw something humorous in the cornering.
    “Well, what has Karen got to say” he asked. “Are you growing very bored with my undiluted society, Karen? And do you feel that your reputation will be saved if you leave Craigie for the time being? ”
    Karen knew very well what she wanted to say, but she was very much afraid of saying it—not only because of his aunt and his ex- fiancée , but because of him, too. If she looked across at him in an openly pleading fashion, and said that she didn ’ t want to leave him, what kind of construction would he place on such a confession as that?
    “I —” she was beginning, when Aunt Horry came to her rescue.
    “Don’t be silly, Iain,” she said. “Naturally Karen wouldn’t tell you if she was bored with you, and as she knows she’s coming back here before very long as mistress of the place she’s not likely to break her heart because of a few weeks absence. And that reminds me—have you made any plans yet about the wedding? Because if you haven ’t I’m quite sure the most sensible idea would be to let Karen be married from my house. It’s so long since anyone g ot married from Auchenwiel that it will do the place good, and there’s nothing that really appeals to me more than all the fuss and preparation for a wedding.”
    Iain continued to smile faintly as his eyes met Karen’s but the eyes themselves were inscrutable, and he made a shrugging movement with his shoulders.
    “I can see that whatever my opinion happens to be on this question of moving Karen it isn ’ t very important,” he observed, “but you needn ’ t start weddin g preparations yet. Aunt, because Karen and I haven’t even fixed a date for taking one another for better or worse. And I hope that you’ll leave us to make that decision ourselves, at least.”
    He stood up and wandered to the window, looking out at the greyness of the afternoon.
    “Don’t think I’m inhospitable,” he said, “but if you’re going to take Karen you’d better leave fairly soon, otherwise you’ll be in for some more bad weather. I’ll ring for Mrs. Burns,” and he pressed the bell for his housekeeper with a somewhat grim expression clinging about his mouth.
    Karen did not dare to look at him again. She went meekly up to her room and helped Mrs. Burns with her simple packing, and when it was finished the housekeeper looked at her with a faintly regretful expression in her eyes.
    “I’ll be glad to see you back again. Miss,” she stated with obvious truthfulness, “only when you come back again you’ll be Madam, won’t you?” She smiled hearteningly. “You’ll like Mrs. Montagu-Jackson. She talks a lot, and she’s a bit obstinate, but she thinks the world of Mr. Iain, and she must like you, too, or she wouldn’t have asked you to stay with her. And perhaps after all she’s wise,” she added, in a kind of reflective way which, however, passed Karen by altogether, for she was feeling too strangely miserable inside at the thought of leaving the quiet sanctuary of this room which for five