The Eyes of Love Read online

  There was a strength about him that made him stand out as a leader of men.

  It would certainly discourage them from taking matters into their own hands or making decisions which later the Earl might challenge.

  “I will make a list for you,” she said now, “and you do understand that one word from you will set the machinery in operation.”

  She stopped speaking for a moment and looked at him before continuing,

  “Everything here is dependent on The Castle and, once it is all running smoothly, you will have to reach out to the hamlets, the river and the moors. In fact over all of the twenty thousand acres you own and rule over in Scotland.”

  “As much as that?” the Earl exclaimed. “Good Lord, I had no idea it was so large!”

  “Most of it is just moorland,” Vara said. “There are a number of fishing villages, which I am sure will need your direction and, of course, the people themselves. The McDorns want to get to know you, as you must get to know them.”

  “But as I cannot understand a single word they say,” the Earl complained, “it is going to be difficult.”

  “You will soon learn to understand them,” Vara said, “and I think it would be useful if you learned Gaelic.”

  The Earl raised his hands in dismay.

  “That is something I never expected. I only just managed to assimilate a smattering of Urdu, but Gaelic, it never occurred to me!”

  “As you are ‘Monarch of all you cannot survey’,” Vara misquoted, “there are a great number of things that will surprise you and I don’t mind betting that by the end of the week you will find everything quite interesting and even exciting.”

  “You are certainly different from what I expected,” the Earl remarked after a moment’s silence. “Tell me what you look like.”

  Vara laughed.

  “I will leave you to guess whether I am a thick-set, sturdy Scotswoman who can walk the moors untiringly for hours on end or a frivolous giggling lassie, who attracts the young men of the neighbourhood.”

  The Earl laughed.

  “I am quite certain that you are neither of those types,” he said. “But, whatever you look like, I am prepared to tolerate you as an instructor and allow you to torture me for just one week.”

  “That is a deal!” Vara declared. “I can only hope that when the week is over you will be riding high as the most constructive and intelligent Chieftain the McDorns have ever known.”

  “That is indeed a challenge,” the Earl exclaimed. “And one I accept.”

  “Very well then, my Lord,” Vara observed, “let battle commence!”

  Vara left the Earl saying that she wanted to see to her unpacking.

  Outside on the landing she found Donald, who had always been a special servant to the Chieftain. She shook him by the hand and said,

  “His Lordship has agreed to wear the kilt and all the other things that are appropriate to his position. I am very sure that you can find something for him until we can get a tailor from Edinburgh.”

  Donald nodded.

  “As it happens, Miss Vara, I’ve found some that’ll fit his Lordship, as if they were made for him.”

  “I knew that I could rely on you, Donald and, when you do dress him, explain to him the meaning of each garment and how important they are.”

  As she left Donald, she just knew that he would be smiling with delight.

  She reached her bedroom.

  It was one of the most attractive in The Castle because it was in a Tower and looked out over the Bay.

  The room was almost circular with a large four-poster bed that had been carved centuries earlier by local craftsmen.

  It was many years since Vara had seen this bedroom, but she had always thought that it was enchanting and she was delighted that it was where she was to sleep.

  “I thought that it was what you’d like, miss,” Mrs. Ross, the housekeeper, greeted her.

  She had been at The Castle for over thirty years and that everything ran so smoothly was almost entirely due to her.

  “It is a lovely room,” Vara enthused.

  At the same time she realised that it wanted doing up and that was another thing that the Earl would have to put in hand.

  She put on a pretty gown for dinner, thinking it was a pity that her host could not see her in it.

  It then occurred to her that he might prefer to dine alone because of his blindness.

  But, as she walked along the passage from her bedroom, Donald was there waiting for her.

  “His Lordship’s takin’ dinner with you in the dinin’ room and says that everythin’s to be cut up for him. And I’m awa’ the noo to tell the Piper he’s to play aroond the table as is customary.”

  Vara was delighted.

  She was quite certain that this was another thing which, if omitted, would cause much consternation to all the Clan. It was always traditional in every Scottish Castle that the Piper played round the table at the end of dinner.

  She next went into the Chieftain’s Room to find the Earl standing with his back to the fireplace.

  He was wearing a kilt of the McDorn tartan, a Chieftain’s sporran of white sheepskin and a jabot of lace at his neck.

  He looked exceedingly smart and as a Chieftain should.

  She could see that the skean-dhu had been pushed into the top of his stocking as she walked towards him.

  As she reached him, she clapped her hands.

  “You look magnificent!” she cried. “And your ancestors, whose portraits are hanging all around this room, are looking down at you with approval. I could see when I arrived that they were scowling.”

  The Earl laughed.

  “I am quite certain that they violently disapprove of what I think they call a ‘Sassenach’ taking their place in The Castle.”

  “Nobody here thinks of you as a Sassenach,” Vara corrected him quickly. “You have the blood of the McDorns in your veins and that is what counts more than anything.”

  As she spoke so positively, she knew that the Earl was amused.

  “This is the first time in my life that I have been taken to task about doing my duty,” he said. “I have managed quite well up until now but then, of course, I was in a civilised part of the world!”

  Vara realised that he was teasing her, but she said,

  “Lesson One is that you hold your head higher and believe yourself to be more important than any other Chieftain in the whole of Scotland.”

  There was silence for a moment before she went on,

  “And I suppose that nobody has bothered to tell you that you are directly descended from Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland?”

  “No one,” the Earl replied, “but I am very sure that it is something you will be telling me about constantly before I am very much older.”

  “It is certainly my duty to do so,” Vara answered him.

  “Dinner is ready, my Lord.”

  It was Donald, speaking from the doorway and the Earl held out his arm.

  “Now,” he said, “ignominiously, as far as I am concerned, you have to guide me.”

  Vara slipped her arm through his.

  “In the Opening of Act I,” she said, “you certainly look the part of the hero and, although I did not really expect it, you are behaving like one too!”

  The Earl laughed as she drew him deftly towards the door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vara awoke in the morning with a feeling of satisfaction.

  Last night had been quite different from what she could have expected.

  She had felt in point of fact that in teaching the Earl how to behave as the Chieftain, he had at least qualified for the position.

  The dinner was excellent and she noticed that Donald had arranged for the Earl’s food to be cut into small pieces and he ate with a spoon.

  He managed it quite well, but she was perceptively aware that he was afraid of making a mess and therefore ate very slowly and carefully.

  The cook, who had been at The C
astle for many years, rose splendidly to the occasion.

  The food they ate was delicious and the wine exceptional.

  Vara was clever enough to refrain from talking on and on about Scotland.

  Instead she encouraged the Earl to tell her about India and to explain the difficulties a Viceroy had to face in that huge Continent of the different customs religions and outlook of the vast population..

  He went on to discuss other subjects with her, most of which Vara fortunately had read or had talked about with her father.

  She sensed that the Earl was surprised at how well informed she was.

  She soon became aware as they were talking that the Earl was extremely intelligent.

  When dinner came to an end, Donald came into the dining room and said to the Earl,

  “The Piper’s here, my Lord.”

  “The Piper?” the Earl repeated in surprise.

  “It is usual,” Vara said in a low voice, “that he should play round the table after dinner. Afterwards you must offer him a small dram of whisky in a silver cup that is kept especially for this ritual and he will thank you in Gaelic.”

  The Earl listened and just for a moment she thought that he was going to refuse.

  Then, before he could speak again, there was the strains of the pipes being played in the distance.

  As the piping came nearer, Vara noticed that the Earl was listening intently.

  The McDorn Piper, who finally appeared through the door of the dining room was, she knew, one of the younger Pipers.

  She guessed why the Elders had chosen him for what was considered a very important position. Those who had attended on the late Earl were growing too old to turn out in the evening.

  The Piper walked around the table three times, playing first the tune of the McDorn Clan and then Over the Sea to Skye.

  He stopped beside the Earl’s chair.

  Donald had put the silver cup containing a dram of whiskey in front of him and Vara reached out to guide his hand to it.

  He took it up and handed it to the Piper who bowed and intoned,

  “Slainte va!”

  “I thought you played extremely well,” the Earl remarked.

  Vara noted the young man blush at the praise.

  Then he said several more words in Gaelic, drained the whisky that was in the cup and spoke again in the same language.

  As he went from the room, Vara commented,

  “He was delighted that you praised him. Now he will boast about it all tomorrow and the Elders will be pleased that you approve of their choice of Clan Piper.”

  “I am haunted by these Elders,” the Earl grumbled, “and I presume that sooner or later I shall have to meet them.”

  “Towards the end of the week,” Vara suggested swiftly.

  “In other words,” he answered, “you are hoping that by then I shall not make too many faux pas or disgrace myself in some way.”

  “I think that is most unlikely whoever you receive,” Vara replied, “and I have an idea for tomorrow. But for tonight let’s go on talking of subjects other than Scotland.”

  “Which, of course, is a great concession on your part,” the Earl remarked.

  Vara gave a little chuckle because she realised that he liked to have the last word.

  Then they walked back to the Chieftain’s Room where the curtains were drawn and the fire, burning brightly in the hearth, seemed very cosy.

  Vara guided the Earl carefully to his chair.

  As he sat there, she thought that in the right Highland dress he would look exactly the part of a Scottish Chieftain.

  She could not help thinking it was a pity that none of the Clan could see him now.

  As if the Earl knew what she was thinking about him, he quizzed her,

  “Have I done anything wrong?”

  “No, you get ‘ten out of ten’ for the way you behaved at dinner, my Lord, and I only hope that you will be as successful tomorrow.”

  They talked for about an hour on many different issues.

  And then Vara said that she was feeling tired and would like to retire to bed.

  *

  Now with the sunshine streaming through the windows in her bedroom, Vara thought that she must somehow entice the Earl into the open air.

  At the same time she knew that she would not be able to ride home as she had intended.

  As soon as she was dressed, she hastily scribbled a note to her mother and then she asked Mrs. Ross if a groom could take it to her home.

  “That’ll be nay bother, Miss Vara,” Mrs. Ross replied. “It’ll be done at once. Everybody in the hoose was sayin’ last night how smart his Lordship looked and dressed as he should be as our Chieftain.”

  ‘We have Donald to thank for that,” Vara told her.

  “Donald was pleased as punch he had what was required and it’s aboot time those attics gave up their treasures, as you might say.”

  Vara walked to the breakfast room wondering if the Earl would join her.

  He might prefer to eat in his own rooms.

  She was no sooner seated at the table than he came in with Donald, who guided him to his chair at the head of the table.

  The breakfast room was a small round cheerful room, but not as impressive as the dining hall.

  It was, Vara thought, easy for a blind man to find his way about in it.

  The door then opened and the Earl came in.

  “Good morning, Vara,” he began. “I hope you slept well?”

  “I always do in Scotland,” Vara replied. “You will find that the sea air, combined with the winds from the moors, is very strong.”

  “I have found that already,” the Earl said unexpectedly. “Instead of lying in bed awake worrying about my eyesight, I slept.”

  “That at least is one good point for Scotland, my Lord,” Vara remarked.

  Donald, who was hovering beside the Earl’s chair asked him what he would like to eat.

  “What is there?” the Earl enquired.

  Before Donald could answer, Vara suggested,

  “You must have a little porridge as a first course and eat it standing up.”

  “Why on earth should I stand up?” the Earl enquired.

  “Because it is a food that can be prepared quickly and is itself a substantial meal,” Vara replied. “And in the Highland tradition you will stand because that makes it more difficult for an enemy to burst in and stab you in the back while you are eating.”

  She stopped for a moment and then finished,

  “You will be ready and alert, my Lord, to combat a member of any other Clan who might be approaching you surreptitiously.”

  The Earl chuckled.

  “Are you telling me that all the Clansmen, now that the country is at peace, keep up these ridiculous practices?”

  “It is as traditional and historical as the haggis!” Vara replied. “And now for one week every morning, whether you like it or not, you are going to have to eat your porridge standing up.”

  “Very well,” the Earl sighed. “I suppose this is one of the things I have to obey under our contract.”

  “Of course!” Vara asserted.

  Donald produced the porridge in a silver bowl that had been used by several generations of McDorn Chieftains.

  The Earl put the first spoonful into his mouth somewhat tentatively.

  When he did not say anything, Vara knew that to his surprise he found it quite palatable.

  After that he ate a delicious salmon trout from his own river.

  As he did so, Vara told him how successful her father had been the previous year,

  “My father keeps a record of every salmon he catches, its weight, the fly that he caught it on and the name of the pool that he was fishing in.”

  “And who reads what must be by now a large number of books?” the Earl enquired.

  “My father pores over them regularly in the seasons when he cannot fish. And you would be surprised how many other people find it really interesting,” Vara re
plied. “I suppose you know how to fish, my Lord?”

  “I used to go fishing in England on the River Avon when I was a small boy,” the Earl answered, “but nobody, except for my mother, was particularly interested in my catch.”

  “I will read you the record of some of the more sensational days’ sport on your river,” Vara proposed. “The books are all in the library.”

  “So I have a library!” the Earl exclaimed.

  “Of course you have a library, my Lord, and a very fine one,” Vara said. “It was added to every year with books that are of interest to the Scottish until your great-uncle was too ill to read or be interested in them.”

  “I suppose that is another tradition you are expecting me to continue,” the Earl laughed.

  “Of course you must and please, please tell me that I may sometimes borrow one or two of your books from you.”

  The Earl threw out his arms.

  “I suppose I should say, as they do in the East, ‘everything I have is yours’. But we Scots are too canny to say anything that might be misinterpreted.”

  Vara laughed.

  Then she said,

  “At least you are acknowledging that you are a Scot and that is another step in the right direction.”

  When breakfast was over, the Earl went back to his seat in the Chieftain’s Room.

  Vara went to see Mr. Bryden and find out what she should read to the Earl.

  “There are a great many papers I would like read to his Lordship,” he said, “and there are also two callers I want to tell you about.”

  “What do they want?” Vara asked him.

  “One of them is having trouble because someone is stealing his sheep. The other one is a woman who has just arrived to tell me that her roof has fallen in and she has no idea what to do. She has three small children, the youngest being only two and there is another baby on the way.”

  Vara was listening intently to Mr. Brydon.

  Then she suddenly had an idea.

  She told Mr. Bryden what it was and then ran back upstairs to the Chieftain’s Room.

  She thought as she entered that the Earl had a somewhat forlorn look about him.

  As she walked towards him, he turned his head in her direction eagerly, as if he wanted to be more active.

  “There is something I want you to do, my Lord,” Vara began.