Dark Hills Rising Read online

  'What you tell him, and what he thinks, will not, I'm afraid, coincide. Father suspects every woman of deceit-and no one can really blame him,' she added with a laugh. 'First Mother, and then me. She laughed again, quite unashamedly, and Gail turned away. There were times when she could not bear to see the evil

  expression on this girl's face. What should she do? she asked herself over and over again during the next few hours while Andrew was still out. His fury over Robin had been quite out of proportion, because he had nothing concrete on which to base that fury. Life had been so pleasant recently and her hopes for the future had soared. In ordinary circumstances her husband would have trusted her and it would have taken much more than a little malicious tale-carrying on Morag's part to arouse his suspicions about Gail ... but with his past experience of his late wife's infidelity, and his present abiding anxiety over Morag.... Never had Gail been so undecided. Strong of character and unhesitating in her decisions where her duty was concerned, she had never before been in such a quandary.

  It was a long while before she made up her mind, but she did at last reach a decision. For she would carry the weight of blame for the rest of her life if anything happened to Morag when she, Gail, was in a position to prevent it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ON receiving Gail's information Andrew strode off immediately, anger portrayed in his every step. The sitting-room door was flung open, then closed with more noise than was usually associated with Andrew's movements. Gail went up to the nursery, busying herself with tidying up the children's toys and books and waiting with a wildly beating heart for her husband's reaction to Morag's false and malicious insinuations about Robin and herself. Surely he would see that these were born of frustration and revenge, thought Gail, even while she was recalling that other frightening scene, and trembling a little as she relived it.

  She heard his footsteps taking the stairs two at a time and wondered if he had been searching for her down-stairs, and whether that had increased his anger …if he were angry. if…

  His jaw was tight, his blue eyes dark and hard as steel as he walked into the nursery and stood there, regarding her in silence for a space before he snapped, 'Is it true that you had Robin in the house today?'

  'Yes, Andrew,' she returned quietly, holding one of Robbie's books against her in a little protective gesture, as if it were a -shield against the onslaught that was to come. 'I thought he would be company for Morag.'

  His lips twisted; the movement filled her with a sense of his injustice even before he spoke.

  'Company for Morag? You expect me to believe that?'

  Gail tried to excuse him, thinking of his late wife's infidelity, but her anger rose above her understanding. 'Just what are you accusing me of, Andrew?'

  'I told you not to speak to the man again!'

  She looked squarely at him.

  'It's not like you to be evasive; I asked you a question. In any case, I thought we'd settled the matter of my not speaking to Robin again. You still allow him to come to the loch.' Her eyes were sparkling, the only sign as yet of her rising temper.

  He still evaded her question.

  'I'd like to know the real reason for his visit.'

  'I've told you, I thought he would be company for Morag.' It was in the nursery that the other scene had occurred, she suddenly recalled, and wished she had remained downstairs. The nursery was an attractive, intimate place to her, with the children's things all about. Anger and dissension seemed out of place in such an atmosphere.

  'The last time,' he said in grating tones, 'you gave the children as your excuse- said they wanted to walk with this man'

  'I've no need to make excuses,' she broke in quiveringly. 'One only makes excuses when one has some-thing to hide!'

  'And haven't you anything to hide?'

  'Nothing!' she flashed. 'How dare you speak to me like this? How dare you put me on the same level as-as ?' She stopped, unable even in her anger to throw his dead wife's failing in his face. 'I should have thought you'd have sufficient understanding of Morag's character to know that her insinuations were prompted by malice,' she went on in more controlled tones.

  He had gone a trifle pale, and it struck her that it came as a complete surprise to him to learn that she had heard stories about his late wife. On the last occasion similar to this, she recalled, he had said he had an excuse for his suspicions, but had refused to elaborate on that excuse, unwilling, naturally, to talk about the past and its unpleasant memories.

  'What reason have you for suggesting that Morag should feel malicious towards you?' he asked, more quietly now, but continuing to regard her with hardness and suspicion in his eyes. 'You're not obtuse!' she retorted, and as his eyes glinted dangerously she suspected he would shake, her again if she continued to speak to him in this vein.

  'Take care,' he advised. 'I warned you once before, remember?' Prudently she fell silent, turning aside to place the book on Robbie's little desk. 'About this man,' he said, reverting to the question of Robin. 'He doesn't come here again. Is that clear?' Gail faced him again. 'If you say he can't come, then he can't.' A small pause as Gail saw the little start he gave, as if taken aback at her acceptance of his authority.

  'I asked you what you're accusing me of,' she then said, watching him closely. His anger had diminished quite suddenly, but his mouth retained its stiff uncompromising line. 'At present, nothing, but I'm making sure I'll never again be made a fool of-oh, yes, you obviously know about my previous experiences, so there's no longer any need for silence on my part. This time, my wife will behave with the decorum her position demands. I'll not have men calling here in my absence; get that firmly fixed in your head, otherwise your life will be damned unpleasant.' And with that dark warning he left her, drained and unhappy, as she was on that other occasion.

  But on that other occasion he has softened, their quarrel ending in a gentle kiss that had taken her by breathless surprise and sent her hopes for the future soaring heavenwards. She sat down when he had gone and tears filled her eyes. Why had she saved Morag at this cost to herself? Silence would have been the safer course. But Gail had followed the dictates of her conscience, gambling on Andrew's trusting her-and she had lost. Nevertheless, even in her misery she knew she would do the same again, for Morag must be saved from her own recklessness.

  The children were at dancing class; with a little start Gail realized the time, and rushed downstairs. 'I was just sending for you,' snapped Andrew, unsoftened by the evidence of tears. 'You're going to be late for the children!'

  At the sting in his voice her lips quivered, but she went silently past him and out to the car. For the first time she was oblivious of the beauty around her-the tree-lined drive and heather moors, and the mountains drenched in sunlight, as she dwelt on the scene just enacted. In her need to fill the void in her life brought about by the accident, in her desperation to have children in her care and to know the love of those children, she had snatched eagerly at marriage with Andrew, accepting with a kind of humble gratitude the position of wife in name only ... but little had she known that her life must be lived under the shadow of suspicion and distrust resulting from the indiscretions of his former wife.

  Gail thought about his reminding her of his previous warning; he had remembered only the quarrel itself, apparently, and not the ending when he had seen her scar and had suddenly become gentle and contrite, taking her in his arms and kissing her. The fact that he could have forgotten what was to her so vivid and important a memory, swelling her heart with hope, brought the tears to her eyes again.

  To Andrew it meant nothing, while to Gail it had been a promise of a glorious tomorrow, the first seed of affection that would gradually grow into love. So much for her optimism. Love was not for her. She accepted this now, wondering that she should ever have reached so high. Morag had firmly asserted that he still cherished his dead wife's memory, but Gail could not accept this, for there had been little or no happiness in his marriage. No, it was not love she h
ad to combat, but suspicion and distrust and a deep-rooted bitterness which by its spreading growth was in itself protective. Andrew would never again be exposed to hurt.

  'Mummy,' exclaimed Shena excitedly on getting into the car a short while later, 'how long is it till Simon and Manda come?'

  'Only three days. It will soon go.'

  'I'll be glad when they come. Will they stay long?'

  'They'll stay with us at least a week, I suppose.'

  'That's a long time! Oh, I wish they were coming tomorrow, though, because I can hardly wait!'

  Robbie came more slowly; he stared at Gail and said with a hint of anxiety unusual in so young a child, 'Have you been crying, -Mummy?'

  'Crying? Of course..' She stopped before her denial was voiced, unwilling to lie to him. 'I had a little pain, Robbie.'

  'A pain? Is it better now?' He was in the car and she felt his cheek against hers as he leant over her seat. 'I don't like you having a pain.'

  'Yes, darling, it's better now.'

  She took it for granted he would forget all about it, but as soon as he entered the house he said to Andrew, 'Mummy was crying because she had a pair.!' Andrew merely cast her an indifferent glance and Robbie added frowningly, 'Don't you care about Mummy's pain?'

  'I said it was better,' put in Gail with haste. 'Yes-but it must have hurt, because you wouldn't cry if it didn't. Daddy-'

  'Mummy says the pain's better, Robbie, so let the matter drop!'

  The child stared in disbelief at the sharpness of his father's words, and his lip quivered. After throwing Gail a glowering look Andrew went out, and for the first time in weeks she and the children took their tea on their own.

  Morag was naturally furious with Gail. Her father had taken all her money from her, and had also told Mrs. Birchan to see that a watch was kept on her during the day. At night one of the maids was to sleep in her room.

  'And if you get up to any of your tantrums you'll have another attack and be taken straight to hospital,' he had warned Morag.

  'It's all your doing!' she told Gail, her eyes blazing. 'You're a spiteful pig-and I hate you!'

  'I acted for your own good.' Gail spoke quietly be-cause she feared the consequences should the girl become over-excited. 'You need plenty of rest and you wouldn't get that if you went to stay with your friends.'

  'I got my own back, though!'

  Gail inclined her head.

  'Yes, Morag, you did.'

  'I warned you I'd tell Father the truth about you and Robin…'

  'They were lies, Morag, mischievous lies.'

  'They weren't! So you needn't put on that air of injured innocence. Was Father mad? He was in a white-hot fury when he left me.'

  Gail heaved a deep sigh. Nothing would have afforded her greater satisfaction than to tear into this girl, but she dared not create a situation that would arouse Morag's emotions.

  'If it's any satisfaction to you, your lies have caused an unnecessary rift between us. Have you no conscience? Don't you ever feel ashamed of yourself?' 'Never,' laughed Morag carelessly. 'As for a conscience-that must be a very uncomfortable thing to possess and I'm sure I'm far happier without one.' She paused, eyeing Gail in faint amusement. 'So Father's really angry with you this time-and how doleful you look! I'm glad he's seen through you at last, though. He was becoming quite soft in his old age.'

  'He was becoming a little happier than he had been,' Gail corrected very quietly. 'And now you've spoiled it all.'

  'Happier? You give yourself credit for that?'

  'I didn't say so.' You implied it. What an opinion you have of yourself! Let me tell you this, Mrs. MacNeill, you'll never be anything more than the nanny you are now. Had Father been thinking of a happy marriage he'd have looked for someone he could love, not merely taken on someone to look after the children.' Morag leant back against the cushions and stared at Gail for a long moment, her lips twisted in a sneer.

  'Can't you see you're wasting your time? He'll never fall for you, so you might just as well give up.'

  It occurred to Gail that Morag was inconsistent in her statements, one moment implying that Gail was far too friendly with Robin, and the next moment that she cherished hopes of finding happiness with her husband. But as Gail had neither the patience nor the inclination to point this out she allowed the matter to rest, saying instead that it was time for Morag to take her tablets. 'I'll get you a drink,' she ended, rising from her chair and at the same time wondering why she took the trouble of making time to sit with Morag each day. It was always an uncomfortable interlude for Gail and she felt half inclined to leave the girl to her own devices in future. But these thoughts fled as, on her return, she saw Morag lying back on the couch, her lips blue and her breathing laboured.

  'Are you ill again?' she asked fearfully, wondering where Andrew was. He had been around only half an hour ago. 'Come,' she said gently, easing Morag's head up. 'Take your tablets.' Morag swallowed them and after a short while she seemed better. 'Have you some pain?' 'Don't be an idiot! Of course I've some pain!'

  'I'll get Mrs. Birchan and we'll put you to bed 'I'm not going to bed. I had a fortnight of that and it was quite enough to last me for a long time.'

  'What's wrong?' Andrew stood in the doorway, frowning. 'Has she had another attack?' he inquired of Gail and, when she nodded, 'Was it bad?'

  'Of course it wasn't bad,' snapped Morag.

  'She wants to be rid of me, though, but I'm not going to bed.'

  'We'll see about that,' said Andrew crisply. 'Gail, fetch Mrs. Birchan.' Protesting, but helpless, Morag was put to bed by the two women while Andrew telephoned for the doctor.

  'Keep her in bed,' ordered the doctor. 'I'll give her another couple of weeks on the tablets, and then we'll see what's to be done.' He was with Andrew in the Hall; Gail heard them talking as she came downstairs, having left the housekeeper with Morag.

  'Wouldn't it be better if she had the operation at once?' Andrew asked anxiously.

  The doctor looked straight at him. 'We're old friends, Andrew,' he said, 'and so you won't take offence at what I'm about to say. The life Morag's lived has undermined her constitution-and an operation would be touch and go.'

  'I see....' Andrew's face was taut and grim. He turned abstractedly to glance at Gail as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Her heart went out to him and she yearned to give him comfort, but he followed the doctor to the door, in the same abstracted way, and Gail went along to the kitchen to prepare the children's tea.

  The breach between them remained, but Andrew was obliged to effect a superficial friendliness towards his wife during the time of the shooting-party which, after some indecision, he decided not to postpone, for there was nothing to be gained. Morag had a nurse with her during the day and the maid still slept in her room at night.. This was in deference to Morag's own wish; she did not want a stranger sleeping in her room, she had told Andrew.

  The weather being fine and warm, the men were out each day-Andrew and Roger and several other friends whom he had invited for the shoot. They would talk about it over dinner, mentioning their bags, and

  Gail would look at them in turn and wonder how they could derive such pleasure from the slaughter of defenceless birds. Foxes were an altogether different matter; their need causing them to kill the lambs, but as far as Gail could see the grouse never harmed anything.

  'Gail hates this sport,' commented Andrew one evening on noticing her lack of appetite and putting it down to the conversation. 'Perhaps we should change the subject.'

  She glanced gratefully at him, but already he had looked away, and she was left in doubt as to whether his words were spoken merely for effect or, as she optimistically hoped, in consideration for her feelings.

  The following day, Ian, one of the guests, gave her the comforting information that one of the drives had been ruined by the circling of an eagle over the area. The beaters had fanned out and were sending the grouse to the butts when the appearance of the eagle created panic among them
. At the beginning of the season the grouse were not normally off the ground, but the presence of this enemy resulted in a mass flight of the grouse who, with a tail wind to aid them, soon disappeared at a speed of about eighty miles an hour. 'I'm glad they escaped,' declared Gail with satisfaction, uncaring as to whether or not anyone was amused by her words. 'I don't know how you can be so heartless.'

  Andrew drew an exasperated breath.

  'I've explained that the numbers must be kept down in order to maintain food supplies,' he reminded her shortly. 'Also, with high densities of game disease could soon become rampant.'

  'Another thing,' put in Roger, supporting his friend, 'we don't have loaders, if that's any comfort to you.'

  'What difference does that make?' demanded Heather, no happier than her sister about this sport.

  'We fire two shots and then have to do our own re-loading. That means the birds do have a sporting chance.'

  'How very kind and humane,' was his wife's sarcastic retort. 'I'm afraid, Roger, your efforts at vindication are far too weak to be effective.' Her eyes met those of her brother-in-law; in his there was a sort of bored contempt, in hers a challenge.

  'Shall we go into the lounge?' invited Gail hastily. 'The coffee will be ready.'

  'He hasn't changed a bit!' The exclamation of disgust came from Heather as she and Gail sat together on the couch in the lounge, their coffee on a small table in front of them. The men were engrossed in the subject of sport, and the two girls might not have been there for all the attention they received. 'I thought he had, when I was here before, because he was so nice to you-and to Beth and me for that matter, but this time She shooked her head. 'He doesn't like women, Gail. How do you get on with him? If he were my husband I'm sure I should hit him!' Gail had to laugh. 'You'd be sorry!'

  'Indeed?' Heather turned her head and subjected Gail to a rather searching stare. 'You've already had your differences of opinion?'