Free The House of Lyall by Doris Davidson Page B

believe it.
    â€˜I twisted awa’ and kicked him right in the balls! An’ when he was holdin’ himsel’ and swearin’ like a trooper, I took to my heels and ran.’
    Her eyes wide with shock at the coarseness which had come from the trembling young mouth, Miss Edith over-looked it since the girl was in such a state. ‘All I can say is thank heaven you got away from him. It was a brave thing you did, but you might easily have been overpowered. Your escape was lucky indeed! Now, off you go to bed, butremember, do not arrange to meet any more boys until I have vetted them. Good night, my dear. You are quite safe now.’
    â€˜Good night, Miss Edith.’ Marianne stood up and, on impulse, bent down and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you for not being angry with me.’
    â€˜Is that why you waited outside? You were afraid I would be angry? I am angry at the boy for taking advantage of a naïve young girl, but it was not your fault, although …’ she paused for a moment, a twinkle in her eyes, ‘… we tried to warn you, if you remember? But we must let bygones be bygones. I shall never mention it again, not even to my sisters … and especially not to Andrew.’
    Miss Edith did some thinking while she made sure that the fire was left safe before she went to bed. Was it fate that had made the seducer choose a graveyard in which to perpetrate his vile deed? Had Marianne been given divine protection? Or was it sheer good luck? Whatever the reason, her ordeal had not been as bad as it could have been. At least it was over. She would not have the worry of waiting to see if her show came. Nor was she suffering from a broken heart, as she, Edith, had been, for she had loved Sandy Raitt. They had kept company for almost three months while he was stationed in the Torry Point Battery, close to Girdleness Lighthouse – he had been one of the first volunteers who made up the Aberdeenshire Royal Garrison Artillery – but after that night, she had neither seen nor heard of him again.
    She laid down the poker and straightened up. He had professed to love her, which was why she hadn’t stopped him … and it hadn’t been an altogether dreadful experience because she loved him. Even after all those years, there was still a soft spot for him in her memory. She may be an old maid, but unlike many of the breed, she had tasted of the sweet fruit which was forbidden to unmarried girls.
    One pleasant Sunday afternoon in late March, when Marianne was walking along the beach promenade with Andrew, the sea looking much more friendly than on her first visit, she was surprised to see Stephen Grant coming towards them. She hadn’t seen him since the night he dropped her like a hot brick, a year and a half ago, and she was elated by the change in his expression when he heard her talking in such a refined manner. She laid it on thickly. ‘It’s so nice to see you again, Stephen,’ she gushed. ‘I often wondered if I had done something to offend you.’
    â€˜I’ve b-been b-busy swotting,’ he stammered.
    â€˜All the time?’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously, causing Andrew to step in to save his friend embarrassment. ‘Pay no attention to her, Stephen. She is just teasing.’
    â€˜May I walk along with you?’ Stephen mumbled. ‘Dick Thorne started off with me, then he met a girl he knew, and –’
    â€˜You’re very welcome to join us,’ Marianne smiled.
    For a time, conversation centred round the weather, always a good talking point, then Stephen looked hopefully at Andrew. ‘My parents are abroad until the middle of July and I was thinking of asking some friends to dinner one night next week – Dick and his girl if they’ll come, another three chaps with partners, and there’s my young sister and me, of course. Would you and Marianne care to come? Our cook is a true gem, so you’d be guaranteed