Free The House of Lyall by Doris Davidson Page A

sooner.’
    Miss Emily paused at the door. ‘Oh, do you think we should not …?’
    â€˜One early night will not harm you, but do not make a habit of it.’
    Edith lay back against the cushions of what had been their father’s seat, a wide, leather-covered armchair with a high, buttoned back. She was concerned for their protégée. Marianne looked older than seventeen and she had no experience of the big, harsh world, where men, even young men, lay in wait for those such as her, to ravish them, to defile them and leave them afraid to trust any other man. She cast her mind back almost forty years. She had been seventeen, the same age as Marianne, when she met Sandy Raitt. She would never forget him. Sandy! He had been so handsome in his blue uniform, and looked such a gentleman that even her father had been taken in …
    The elderly lady was startled out of quite a deep sleep by the silvery chimes of the domed clock on the mantelshelf. Eleven o’clock! What could have happened to Marianne? Wide awake again and, in her anxiety for the girl, more finely tuned to any noises, Edith became aware of a sound outside in the street. Thank heaven! But it was far too late for Marianne to be staying out with a boy! She would have to be told … but why hadn’t she come in?
    Absolute silence fell again, and after another five minutes, Edith could stand it no longer. She had to find out what was going on.
    Striding to the front door, she opened it quietly and was astonished that she could see no one in the flickering light of the gaslamp a few yards along. Thinking that she must have heard a cat prowling about, she was on the point of going back inside when her eye was drawn to a slight movement to her right.
    â€˜Is that you, Marianne?’ she said softly, not wishing to rouse her sisters.
    Skirts rustling, a figure trailed round from the side of the cottage. ‘Good gracious!’ Edith exclaimed. ‘What were you doing round there?’
    â€˜I was … I was waiting … for you to go to bed.’ The unsteady words ended in a torrent of tears, and Marianne gladly allowed herself to be led inside.
    Her story came out as if she were in a trance; the walk down to the river and along the banks. ‘He wasn’t doing anything bad,’ she went on, gulping, ‘till we came to the cemetery …’
    â€˜Trinity,’ murmured Miss Edith, wondering what was coming.
    â€˜Is that what it’s called? Well, he took me over and pulled me inside the gate … I was scared to go … and then he … started …’
    â€˜I can guess, my dear. Do not distress yourself by telling me.’
    But now she had started, Marianne felt compelled to get it all out. ‘He was only kissing me at first, and stroking my neck, but something aboot him made me fear’t, so I started fightin’ him aff, but it was like fightin’ a raging bull and I couldna stop him – nae even when he started touchin’ me on my … bosom. But when he lifted my skirts and tried to force me down on the ground, I went right mad.’
    Her voice was rising, so Miss Edith grasped her hand. ‘My dear girl, I know exactly what happened. It happened to me once, when I was about your age.’ She gave a tight smile at the incredulity on the white face. ‘I was quite pretty in those days and I was very lucky that the boy did not make me pregnant, otherwise my father would have thrown me out. The best thing for you to do now is to give yourself a thorough wash … down there, and go to bed. We can do nothing else but wait until –’
    â€˜You don’t understand!’ Marianne cried. ‘I didn’t let him! You see, I’ve always been scared of cemeteries, and it was being so close to the gravestones as much as him mauling me … that helped me to …’
    â€˜You actually stopped him?’ Miss Edith could scarcely