The Eyes of Love Read online

  And then he replied,

  “It is a question I asked myself and I think the answer is that he did not want his friends in London to see him blinded. I imagine also that, when the news of the late Earl’s death had reached him in India and he knew that he was his heir, pressure must have been put on him to return to Scotland at once.”

  Vara could understand that.

  She agreed also that it was a convenient hiding place because he had no wish for anyone to see him so incapacitated.

  They drove on, the Minister’s horse getting slower and slower as the road kept climbing.

  Finally they descended down a steep hill towards The Castle, which Vara could see in the distance silhouetted against the sky and the moorlands.

  Its towers and spires were very impressive. However, as Vara knew, it looked its most formidable when seen from the sea.

  There it stood in the centre of the coastline defying its enemies.

  At that very moment with the sun shining on a smooth sea and the lights glinting on the moors, she thought that nothing could be more beautiful.

  ‘But, of course, if the Earl cannot see it, he does not know what he is missing,’ she told herself practically.

  Finally, when they drove in at the great iron gates and down the tree-bordered drive, The Castle at the end of it seemed enormous.

  At the same time it looked mysterious and somewhat intimidating.

  As Vara had first come to The Castle as a child, it had always been in the background of her thoughts as a place that was strange, ghostly and altogether overwhelming.

  ‘Now,’ she told herself, ‘it would be impossible for any man, if he could see The Castle, not to be proud of the fact that it was his heritage.’

  It went back into history to the eleventh century.

  The Minister drew his horse to a standstill outside the front door and there was a flight of stone steps leading up to it.

  On either side of them stood a stone emblem of a wild cat, which was the main feature of the Coat of Arms of the McDorns.

  Two servants wearing kilts came hurrying out to open the doors of the carriage.

  As Vara stepped out, they greeted her.

  She knew a great number of the Clan by sight and by name and naturally they all knew her because she had lived in the neighbourhood ever since she was born.

  “Where is his Lordship?” the Minister asked as he joined Vara on the steps.

  “He’s awa’ in the Chieftain’s Room, sir,” one of the footmen replied.

  He spoke with a very broad Scottish accent and Vara thought that she could understand the Earl finding it difficult to comprehend.

  A great number of the McDorns still spoke Gaelic, the ancient Scottish language dating back many centuries and she thought that it would be an even bigger stumbling block.

  They passed through the hall and walked up the wide staircase.

  As in all Scottish Castles, the main rooms were on the first floor and Vara knew most of them looked out over the garden directly below.

  Beyond was a strip of land that led down to the beach.

  When they reached the landing, the footman who had walked ahead of them up the stairs opened the door into the Chieftain’s Room.

  It was a very attractive room, which Vara knew well.

  The walls on one side of it were lined with books.

  All round the walls just below the ceiling were mounted many horns of stags. They had been shot by each succeeding Earl over the years and every one was a proud Royal of twelve points on the antlers, six points on each side.

  Above the huge mantelpiece there was a portrait of the eighth Earl, who had been very handsome besides being the most important man in Scotland.

  Every succeeding Earl had been painted during his lifetime.

  And they looked down at their present descendant who was seated in a high-backed chair beside the fireplace.

  The Minister and Vara walked towards him.

  As they did so, Vara saw that he was wearing English clothes not, as everybody would have expected, the kilt in the colourful family tartan. That if nothing else, she knew, would be considered by the Clan to be an insult.

  As she drew nearer, she saw that his eyes were bandaged.

  At the same time she thought that he was very good-looking, broad-shouldered and taller than she had reckoned.

  He was sitting back in his chair in what she was sure was a despondent attitude.

  It was, however, difficult to judge what his thoughts and feelings were with the bandage covering his eyes.

  Without being told the footman announced them in a loud voice.

  “The Minister, my Lord,” he said, “and Miss Vara McDorn.”

  As they reached the Earl, Vara thought that he might have stood up to greet them.

  Instead he demanded in a sharp voice,

  “Who is that with you, Minister?”

  “I have brought you a Reader, my Lord,” the Minister replied. “That is what you wanted, and I think you will find her an exceptionally intelligent young woman. In fact I have been very fortunate in being able to persuade her to come to you.”

  The Minister spoke almost aggressively, as if he was determined to make the Earl realise how privileged he was.

  The Earl merely said in a somewhat surly tone,

  “I hope your protégée, Minister, can speak a language I can understand.”

  “You must judge that for yourself,” the Minister said. “So let me introduce Miss Vara McDorn. Her father, General Sir Alistair McDorn, is one of the most respected and admired members of the Clan.”

  “That is a very nice introduction,” Vara said before the Earl could speak, “and if I ever want a reference in the future, I shall know who I should apply to.”

  She spoke with a hint of laughter in her voice.

  If the Earl was listening, he would be aware that she spoke without a trace of a Scottish accent.

  There was a short pause.

  And then the Earl said,

  “You certainly speak English and thank God for that!”

  Vara was about to reply, but the Minister intervened hastily,

  “As I have two calls to make before I can return home, I will leave you now, Vara. I hope that you and his Lordship will become acquainted and that I shall find things very much happier when I call at The Castle tomorrow morning.”

  Although the Earl could not see him, he gave him a respectful bow before he added,

  “Goodbye, my Lord, I am sure that you will be extremely grateful to Miss McDorn for coming here at such short notice, but she knows how important it is for you to be happy in your new position.”

  When he finished speaking, he walked away.

  He put his hand for a moment on Vara’s shoulder as an affectionate gesture before he left the room.

  The Earl did not reply to the Minister and Vara sat down on a chair opposite him.

  “You will have to tell me, my Lord,” she said, making her voice soft and ingratiating, “exactly what you require and what interests you.”

  She paused for a moment before she went on,

  “I expect you know that the newspapers that come from the South are sometimes delayed for a few days, but those from Edinburgh arrive the day after they are published.”

  “Nothing would surprise me about this place,” the Earl retorted. “Although, of course, I had heard about The Castle in this isolated part of Scotland, I had never before crossed the border.”

  “Then, of course, it is Fate, my Lord, that you should be here and of special importance at this particular moment.”

  “What do you mean by ‘at this particular moment’?” the Earl enquired.

  “You must be aware that the late Earl, your great-uncle, was not capable of coping with anything for at least three to four years before he died,” Vara answered. “Therefore, because nothing can happen without the approval of the Chieftain, everything has more or less come to a standstill here.”

  “Surely t
hat is a most ridiculous state of affairs,” the Earl remarked.

  “Not for the Scots,” Vara replied. “And that is why, my Lord, now that you are here, there is a great deal to be done.”

  “How do you think I am going to do it if I cannot see?”

  There was no doubt now that the Earl’s voice was becoming aggressive.

  “That is why I am here,” Vara answered him. “I will explain to you what is required and I am sure that you will find it easy to make a decision if it is all described to you in detail.”

  “You are taking on a great deal,” the Earl said sharply. “I find it impossible to live as I am now without being able to see, in perpetual darkness and, as far as I can make out, with little chance of ever seeing again in the future.”

  “Are you sure about that, my Lord?” Vara enquired. “I was told by the Minister that the doctors found it difficult to diagnose what is wrong with your eyes. It was not suggested that you would never see again.”

  “I don’t wish to discuss it,” the Earl said angrily. “I loathe and detest being so helpless. If you can find anything to interest me in this back of beyond part of the world, I shall be very surprised.”

  “As you have never seen what you call ‘this back of beyond’ part of the world,” Vara pointed out, “do you not think it is rather unfair to judge it except with your brain and your intelligence?”

  She knew from the way the Earl had stiffened that she had surprised him.

  After a distinct silence he said,

  “I don’t know exactly what you mean by that.”

  Vara settled herself more comfortably in her chair before she replied,

  “You do understand that this is your Kingdom? In Scotland everything revolves around the Chieftain. He is the King to his particular Clan. What is more he not only rules, he also protects them, leads and inspires them. That is what your people are waiting for now.”

  “Then they will obviously have to wait,” the Earl asserted. “How can I possibly perform all that nonsense you have just talked about if I cannot see?”

  “You can listen with your ears, think with your mind and answer with your lips,” Vara answered.

  She spoke without considering her language because she thought that the Earl was being deliberately and almost inexcusably difficult.

  He did not speak and so she went on,

  “A Scot, if he has the right blood in him, will never be defeated. He will fight battle after battle against all overwhelming odds, where other men of other nationalities would give in. Surely you cannot be the exception?”

  There was silence.

  Then the Earl said,

  “I am wondering to myself what sort of Reader you are. Quite frankly I have never been spoken to like this before.”

  Vara gave a little laugh.

  “I am sorry, my Lord. I am trying not to be rude, but on my way here I saw The Castle looking so beautiful in the Bay. As I drew nearer, I thought how strong and stalwart it was and how it had defied the Vikings. I cannot believe that any McDorn would give way to just a small infirmity.”

  “Small?” the Earl exclaimed. “You may think that being blind is a ‘small’ infirmity, but as far as I am concerned it is nothing short of hell on earth!”

  “Then it is something you have to get the better of,” Vara said, “and I am certain that the last thing you should do is give way to despondency.”

  She drew in her breath before she added,

  “To get well and to be able to see again, you have to believe it will happen.”

  There was silence.

  Then the Earl asked her,

  “And suppose it does not?”

  Vara did not answer for a moment.

  Then she responded,

  “I expect you know that all Scots are ‘fey’. I am convinced, now that I have seen you, that somehow, sometime, you will regain your sight.”

  “I suspect you are just trying to encourage me,” the Earl parried with a cynical tone in his voice.

  “Why should I do that?” Vara asked. “As it happens, I always tell the truth and I most certainly would not lie in making anything like a prediction. It would be most unlucky not only for the person to whom I am speaking but also for myself.”

  There was a faint twist to the Earl’s lips as he said,

  “Now I come to think of it, I have always been told that the Scots and their country are full of superstitions.”

  “That is true, but you should say my country,” Vara corrected. “After all you are a Scot and therefore everything you say and think is of great significance to all the people around you.”

  “Now you are back again harping on about the Clan,” the Earl complained. “I have heard nothing else ever since I arrived. I am told that some strange people called ‘The Elders of the Clan’ wish to see me. There are innumerable McDorns knocking on the door, when all I want is to be left alone.”

  “That, I am afraid, my Lord, is the one thing you cannot be,” Vara replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you are the Chieftain of one of the most important of the Clans of Scotland. Your people need you and they need you urgently!”

  “Then they will have to learn to do without me,” the Earl pronounced perversely.

  Vara rose to her feet.

  She had started to walk across the room before he called out sharply,

  “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  “I am going home. I can see that you are a hopeless case and, since there is nothing I can do for you, there is no point in my staying here any longer.”

  The Earl made a sound that was almost a shout.

  “You are not to leave me,” he protested. “I want to talk to you. You are the one person I have been able to understand since I came to this benighted place.”

  There was a pause and, as Vara did not speak, he said,

  “I suppose in the light of what you have been saying about my manners, I cannot order you to stay.”

  “Of course you can,” Vara answered. “And that at least is a step in the right direction towards showing your authority.”

  “Very well,” the Earl conceded. “I order you to sit down and listen to me.”

  Vara was smiling as she went back to the chair that she had been sitting on.

  “I will make a deal with you,” the Earl said. “You shall tell me what to do and I will try to behave as you want me to for a week.”

  He paused for a moment before he went on,

  “If, at the end of that time, I find it completely and absolutely impossible and there is no chance of my regaining my sight, I think I will drown myself in the Bay or throw myself off one of the Towers. But I cannot go on living forever in this damned darkness.”

  There was a note of anguish in his voice that Vara felt herself responding to.

  Aloud she now said,

  “Very well, my Lord, I will stay for one week. But you have committed yourself to doing what I want you to do in that time.”

  “I think I must be going mad!” the Earl expostulated in a very different tone. “But then I suppose there is just a sporting chance that you may be right and I shall see again one day.”

  “I am quite sure that you will be able to, but I cannot tell you when and more important than anything else,’ Vara said, “is that you believe that your sight will be restored to you and you will be able to see as well as you did before you went blind.”

  Now her voice was very soft and quiet and the Earl listened to her almost as if he was hypnotised by it.

  He put out his hand.

  “I have given you one week,” he stressed.

  Vara felt his fingers close over hers.

  She was now aware that he was very much stronger in character and personality than he pretended to be.

  When she sensed the vibrations of the people she had met, she never made a mistake.

  She knew exactly what they were like and what they were capable of.

  She co
uld feel that the Earl could be a great man if he forgot about his infirmity and the prejudices that he had been brought up with.

  She knew that they were a weakness in the position that he now found himself in.

  As she took her hand from his, she said,

  “May I suggest that the first thing you do, my Lord, is to dress the part? No Chieftain of the McDorns is ever seen on his own territory not wearing the kilt.”

  There was silence.

  She knew that if she could have seen the Earl’s eyes, he would have been staring at her.

  After a moment he replied,

  “I never thought of that. But, of course, I do not possess one.”

  “I feel sure that Donald, who has been a senior servant here for years, could provide you with one at a moment’s notice. Also the sporran and the full dress with the plaid, a cairngorm and a skean-dhu.”

  The Earl laughed.

  ‘“In for a penny, in for a pound’. You can produce the whole fancy dress and, if I make a clown of myself, I only hope the audience will appreciate the effort that I am making on their behalf.”

  “I can assure you,” Vara answered, “that they will not only appreciate you but will know that their hopes have been realised. They have all been longing to have a Chieftain who is young with new ideas and who will put right everything that has gone wrong ever since your great-uncle became incapable of giving orders.”

  “Bryden has already told me,” the Earl said, “that there are a number of things for me to decide, but I refused to be interested.”

  “I will find out what they are,” Vara said, “then I will read them to you and explain their significance, ranging from the fact that the roof is caving in down to the plaintive cries from the kitchen that a new stove is needed.”

  The Minister had told her this as they were driving along the road to The Castle.

  “Why does not Mr. Bryden order a new one?” she had asked.

  “He is afraid that the new Earl would resent his purchasing anything that he had not given his personal consent to.”

  Vara had smiled as she knew that it was the way that all the Clan behaved where their Chieftain was concerned.

  At the same time she thought that Mr. Bryden was being foolish and over sensitive about the Earl.

  Now, looking at him, she thought that she could understand.