Miriam Macgregor - Heir To Glengyle

For the first time he looked at her with real interest as he said, ‘You surprise me. You have more understanding than I’d have thought possible, especially in a woman.’

‘Again, thank you. You’re too kind.’

‘Then it’s agreed? We can be friends?’ he asked lightly.

She thought about it for several moments, but at last she shook her head as she said, ‘I doubt it, Mr MacGregor—I doubt it very much indeed.’

‘You sound quite adamant about it. Why is it so impossible?’

‘Because I know that you would never trust a Campbell. However, we can at least allow Amy to imagine we’re friends,’ she said guardedly.

Baird’s expression hardened. ‘But in the meantime you’ll reject my offer of friendship. Thank you very much.’

She turned to regard him frankly. ‘I can’t believe that friendship is what you really have in mind. To me it sounds more like a truce.’

‘A truce can be a temporary affair. I said friendship, and I meant friendship,’ he said in a tone that had become abrupt.

‘It takes two to be friends,’ she pointed out. ‘Nor am I in the habit of tossing real friendship about quite so lightly.’

‘But at least you’ll show a semblance of friendship for Amy’s sake,’ he persisted.

‘Yes—for Amy’s sake.’

‘Thank you.’

‘There’s no need to thank me. Amy is part of my family.’

‘Then will you accept this as a peace offering?’ he asked, extracting from his pocket a square object wrapped in tissue paper.

She took it from him, then removed the wrapping to reveal an attractive paperweight filled with brilliant colours that glittered and glowed. She had caught her breath over it in the showroom, but it had been too expensive for her to buy.

He said, ‘I noticed you admire it, so I bought it for you.’

‘Thank you, that was very kind—but of course I can’t accept it,’ she said regretfully.

‘Why not, for heaven’s sake?’ he rasped.

‘Because I feel it’s a bribe to persuade me to do whatever you wish me to do. You can take it home, and I’m sure your wife, or your girlfriend, or whoever, will appreciate it.’ She then spread the paper carefully, rewrapped the paperweight and handed it back to him.

BAIRD took the square parcel from her and tossed it on to the back seat, where it landed with a slight thud. He then gritted from behind tight lips, ‘For your information, I am neither married nor engaged.’

‘But you must surely have a girlfriend,’ she pursued, suddenly feeling unaccountably interested in this question.

‘Well, it’s possible. What about yourself?’ he asked, sending a swift glance towards her ringless fingers. ‘Are you a free agent?’

‘Definitely—and I intend to remain that way,’ she declared in a firm voice. ‘At least until—’ She fell silent, annoyed with herself.

He sent her a quick glance. ‘Until what?’

‘Until I’ve achieved my goal—which is no concern of yours.’

‘Shady business, is it?’ He grinned. ‘Something which must be kept secret, or under wraps, as they say.’

‘Of course not,’ she snapped, irritated by his suggestions. Then she gave a sigh of resignation as she admitted, ‘If you must know—I’m interested in antiques. Some day I hope to own my own shop.’

‘That’s your goal? Have you come to the UK on a buying spree?’

‘Heavens, no—I’m a long way from that happy state,’ she said, laughing at the mere thought of it.

Unexpectedly he said, ‘You should laugh more often. It lights up your face.’

She was startled by the remark, wondering if it was supposed to be a compliment. Or had he scratched about in his mind, searching for something nice to say—and all he’d been able to come up with was a hint that her previous expression had been anything but attractive? Not that she cared one iota for his opinion of her appearance, of course, and to prove this point she dragged her mind back to the subject of her great-aunt.

‘I presume the suggestion of a visit to New Zealand has been put to Amy?’ she queried.

‘Yes. But her response has been a complete lack of enthusiasm. That’s why I’m asking if you’ll use your powers of persuasion.’

‘What makes you imagine I have any?’

‘The fact that she was so delighted to see you.’

‘She’s probably like Gran, strong on family ties—which makes me wonder why she’d need to be persuaded to come to New Zealand.’

‘I think the main problem lies in the assistance she needs because of her arthritis. You probably don’t realise that she needs help in having her shower and in getting dressed. Here she has Elspeth to turn to during difficult moments, but in New Zealand she fears she would be a burden to somebody.’

‘Poor Amy,’ Cathie said softly, her voice full of sympathy.

He went on, ‘She also feels nervous about the length of the flight. Thirteen hours from Heathrow to Changi Airport at Singapore, where we’d have a night’s stopover, and then another ten hours or more to Auckland.’

‘It’s a long way to the other side of the world,’ Cathie sighed.

‘I’ve tried to convince her that the Singapore Airlines air hostesses will give her all the assistance she needs. They really are the most charming girls.’

‘Not only charming, but beautiful as well,’ Cathie agreed. ‘But that’s only on the main flight. What happens when she reaches New Zealand?’

‘We’ll catch the first available domestic flight to Palmerston North—’

Cathie cut in, ‘And that’s where my parents and Gran will meet her and take her to Levin where we live. Gran has a flat built on to our house.’

His jaw became set in a determined line. ‘On the contrary, she will stay with me until she gets over her jet-lag, and until my parents have come from Taupo to meet her. Don’t forget that my father is her stepson, and I’m unable to see the necessity to send him an extra thirty miles to Levin.’ He paused, then added, ‘Also, I’d like her to see my factory.’

Cathie’s brows rose as she sent him an inquiring glance. ‘ Factory ?’

‘It’s just one that Dad and I started years ago. When he retired he took Mother to live at Taupo where they spend most of their time fishing on the lake.’

She waited for more explanation about the factory, but it did not appear to be forthcoming. Then, as she had no intention of prying, she changed the subject by asking carefully, ‘There would be someone in your—living quarters—to care for Amy?’

‘I live alone in the house I took over when my parents went to Taupo—but there’s Lola next door. She works part-time, which enables her to keep an eye on my place.’

‘You mean, as a housekeeper?’

‘I suppose you could call it that,’ he replied nonchalantly. ‘At least, the place always looks clean and tidy, and I’m never short of a clean shirt.’

‘But if she has a part-time job her hours might not fit in—especially in the mornings,’ Cathie pointed out, visualising a comfortably built woman, possibly about her mother’s age.

‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said, as though that was all it would take to make Lola change her work schedule.

Cathie took an unobtrusive peep at the classical lines of his profile, which featured a strong jaw, a straight nose and a well-shaped forehead. This man knows what he wants and is determined to get it, she decided. He knows where he’s going and is sure to get there. Yet there’s a tender side to his nature. He’s concerned for Amy. He’s even concerned about the problems his long-dead ancestors had to face. Not that he can do anything about those people or events, but the knowledge frustrates him. Nevertheless it all adds up to the fact that he’s one who cares for other people.