The Eyes of Love Page 5

  “What is it?” the Earl asked warily.

  “I want to move your chair a little into the corner so that I can pull a heavy screen that is used in winter to keep out the draughts around you.”

  “Why?” the Earl asked.

  “Because I want you to hear two people who have come to The Castle to ask for your advice and guidance. They will not be able to see you, which I know is what you do not want them to do, but you will be able to hear them. Then you shall decide what is to be done with their problems.”

  The Earl groaned.

  At the same time Vara thought that he was actually quite interested in her suggestion.

  She made him stand up, moved his chair and then guided him to it.

  The screen was a large leather one with tapestry on one side.

  Because it was heavy she called Donald in to help her move it and, when they put it into position, it completely concealed the Earl.

  Vara went to the writing desk on the other side of the room and sat down in a wicker chair.

  “Ask Mr. Bryden to bring up the man who has had his sheep stolen,” she told Donald.

  She was thinking as she waited just how fortunate it was that people had come with their problems at this particular moment.

  They were the sort of difficulties that every Clan Chieftain had to solve a hundred times a year.

  The shepherd who had lost his sheep was middle-aged and dressed in clothes that were old and tattered.

  But he held himself erect and was obviously extremely incensed by what had occurred.

  Vara shook hands with him before she said,

  “As I expect you will have heard his Lordship is not well enough to receive visitors at the moment, but, if you will tell me your trouble, I will consult him and hope that he can find a solution for you.”

  “That sounds fair enough to me,” the shepherd responded.

  He talked with a very broad accent and, as he related his tale of woe, Vara was hoping that the Earl was listening behind the screen and managing to understand the man’s problem.

  What had happened was quite simple.

  He had a large flock of sheep high up on the moors and during the last month one or two each week had been disappearing.

  He was convinced that they had not wandered away, but that someone was stealing them, but he was at a loss as to what he could do about it.

  “Ah’ve tried watchin’ for ’em,” the shepherd said. “But Ah’m sure they must come when ’tis dark and Ah canna see, nor mebby they’re spirited awa’ by witchcraft.”

  “I think it is a case of their waiting until they reckon that you are somewhere else,” Vara suggested. “I will tell the Chieftain what has occurred with your sheep and then see what he advises. In the meantime, while you are waiting, I am sure that there will be a glass of ale for you downstairs.”

  “That be verra kind of you,” the shepherd said, “and Ah am sure the Chieftain’ll know what to do.”

  Vara thought that he was being very optimistic.

  When Donald escorted him downstairs, she went behind the screen.

  “What solution comes to the Almighty Chieftain’s mind?” she asked rather cheekily.

  “I have not the slightest idea of what to do about it,” the Earl admitted. “What do you suggest, Vara?”

  “I think the most sensible thing would be for you to provide him with enough money to buy a dog, preferably two,” Vara replied. “They can keep watch and alert him if any stranger should approach his sheep. At least it would be better than trying to stay awake all night.”

  The Earl smiled.

  “Very well. If that is the advice I should give him, I, of course, agree and I think it is a very sensible idea. How much does a dog cost?”

  “No more than you can afford,” Vara answered. “And your Chief Shepherd can advise him where one or two may be obtained.”

  “I agree and I am sure that our judgement is as good as anything Solomon ever thought of and will gain the approval of the Clan.”

  “You can be certain of that,” Vara smiled.

  She then asked for the woman to be sent up whose roof had collapsed.

  She was a harassed worried-looking woman, whose husband was away at sea, as he was a fisherman.

  “Ah dinna ken what to do, lady,” she said when she explained why she had brought her problem to the Chieftain. “’Tis Fate me wee bairns weren’t killed. Bessie has a bruise on her forehead and Jamie’s a cut leg. But by the mercy of God they’re alive!”

  She had a great deal more to say on this subject. Because Vara thought it was good for the Earl to hear this particular problem, she encouraged her to go on talking.

  Finally, when the woman was breathless and her children beginning to fidget, Vara said,

  “I am now going to take your problem to the Chieftain. If you will go downstairs, I am sure there will be something for the children to eat and milk for them to drink and perhaps you would appreciate a cup of tea.”

  “That Ah would,” the woman agreed.

  Donald took them away and Vara went once again behind the screen.

  “What is your answer to this problem, my Lord?”

  “It is obvious that she must have somewhere to go with all her children while the roof is being repaired,” the Earl replied.

  “That is just what I was thinking,” Vara answered, “and, of course, the repairs cannot be undertaken without your giving the order.”

  “Then tell Bryden to get busy on it at once, but they have to have somewhere to stay in the meantime.”

  “I think it would be a popular move if your Lordship offered them accommodation in one of the outhouses at the back of The Castle. There must be a mass of unused furniture, beds and other things they will require stored away.”

  She smiled before she added,

  “As you know, the Scots are very canny and never throw anything away that might come in useful during the next one hundred years!”

  The Earl laughed.

  “Very well. Tell them that is my decision.”

  “I will tell them, but you will have to listen to their gratitude,” Vara pointed out.

  She did not wait for him to argue about it, but told Donald to send up the shepherd.

  When she told him what the Chieftain had decided, he gave what sounded like a hoot of delight.

  “Why did Ah never think of that for mysel?” he asked. “Ma dogs are auld and tired noo. With two young ones, they’ll hear and smell any strangers afore they can do any damage.”

  “That is exactly what the Chieftain thought,” Vara replied, not revealing that it was her own idea.

  “Will you thank his Lordship and tell him Ah thank him frae the bottom of ma heart and Ah’ll follow his Lordship wherever he leads us.”

  “I will tell him,” Vara smiled.

  She thought that what the shepherd had said to her was very moving and she hoped that the Earl had fully understood him.

  When the woman with the children was told what had been decided for her, she flung up her arms in the air.

  “God has heard ma prayers,” she said, “and you can tell the Chieftain He sent us to him. May there be blessin’ on his head! May he always be kind to his people as he’s been to us!”

  She was still proclaiming her gratitude as Donald led her back down the stairs.

  Mr. Bryden had been hovering all the time outside the room to hear just what had been decided.

  He told Vara that there was not only an outhouse available but it was also furnished. It had been used by visiting coachmen when the last Earl had entertained.

  When he had gone, Vara went behind the screen and said to the Earl,

  “Now that you have introduced yourself to your Clan in exactly the way I have wanted you to do, everyone will be talking about it. I suspect tomorrow there will be a queue outside seeking your judgements, which they will be convinced will be entirely in their favour.”

  “I can see I am getting deeper and deeper into th
e mire,” the Earl remarked, “and there will be no possible escape for me.”

  “Do you honestly think that to escape is what you want?” Vara asked him.

  There was a short silence before the Earl said,

  “As you know, until I can see again, I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Then you may as well make yourself useful here, my Lord,” Vara said. “But you cannot say that this has not been a successful morning so far.”

  As she spoke, she picked up the papers that Mr. Bryden had asked her to explain to the Earl.

  Donald moved the screen away and she started to read them out.

  There were certainly a large number of urgent matters that required the Earl’s agreement.

  They included the fact that, since essential maintenance of the fabric of The Castle had been neglected, it was becoming infested with rats.

  When she read this out, Vara gave a little scream.

  “If there is anything I really dislike, it is rats! Please give your permission right away for the rat catcher to be sent for and any holes to be bricked up.”

  “Of course it must be done,” the Earl agreed sharply. “I cannot understand why Bryden did not have the sense to do something as soon as it became necessary.”

  “As your great-uncle is dead, Mr. Bryden would have been spending your money,” Vara explained, “and he is too punctilious a man to wish to make any mistakes for which he could be reproached at a later date.”

  “Well, now he can get busy right away,” the Earl insisted.

  After that there was a new gillie to be engaged on the river and there were servants who were so old that they had to be pensioned off.

  Then the coachmen were asking for two new carriage horses and for at least one of the carriages to be replaced.

  “I only hope I have enough money somewhere in the coffers to pay for all this,” the Earl said. “Otherwise I shall be bankrupt and be forced to sell the family treasures.”

  “You must never sell them!” Vara exclaimed. “They have been here for centuries.”

  “Oh, so there are treasures?” the Earl replied. “I spoke without any knowledge that there were such things.”

  “Of course there are,” Vara said. “There are goblets of great value that have been handed down from Earl to Earl. The silver, some of which is Jacobean, is really exceptional.”

  She paused for a moment and then went on encouragingly,

  “And one day I hope that you will be able to admire the gold candelabra that I was once shown as a little girl.”

  “I have some gold candelabra too?” the Earl asked in surprise.

  “Yes, indeed. They were used when the Chieftain entertained important visitors or when he gave a ball.”

  She spoke a little wistfully and the Earl enquired,

  “Is that what you would wish me to do?”

  “Why not, my Lord. There has not been a ball at The Castle for fifteen years or more and it would be very exciting if there was to be one.”

  “Are there enough local people to invite to a ball?” the Earl asked. “I was told that I had very few neighbours?”

  “Of course there are some. And they will fill their houses with your guests and will drive over in their carriages to the ball. It will delight everybody especially the Pipers.”

  “Are you telling me that I shall have to learn how to dance a reel?” the Earl enquired.

  “Of course our Chieftain should know how to dance all the reels,” Vara replied.

  “And all this is clearly waiting until I can see again,” the Earl said, “which you promised me I shall be able to do and the sooner the better.”

  Vara did not reply.

  She was saying a little prayer to God that he would, when he took off his bandages, be able to see.

  Something inside her told her that it would most certainly happen and that she was not just imagining it.

  As she did not speak, the Earl went on,

  “Very well, I promise you that when I am no longer blind, I will give a ball and you shall be my Guest of Honour.”

  “You had better wait until you can see me before you say that!” Vara answered. “If you are disappointed, you may feel ashamed of a ‘local lassie’ when your friends from London and other parts of England will be flocking to take part in a ball that will be finer than any of those given in Edinburgh!”

  “Now you are telling yourself Fairytales. I very much doubt if my English friends will want to come so far North for a ball and, as you must be aware, I know nobody in Scotland.”

  “But they know you,” Vara argued. “Anyway, I am betting on a ball taking place and so I shall start saving for a new gown.”

  “You are quite sure that there is not one in the attics here?” the Earl suggested.

  Vara knew that he was teasing her because he had learnt where his kilt had come from.

  However she replied quite seriously,

  “I am sure there are dozens of gowns up there and you might even make the ball a fancy dress party.”

  The Earl slowly shook his head from side to side.

  “I am beginning to believe in this Fairytale,” he said, “but do remember, first you have to give me back my sight.”

  There was a little pause in their conversation.

  Then Vara said,

  “I am praying that it will happen and I am quite certain that the Minister is praying too.”

  She did not wait for the Earl to reply to her, but went upstairs to tidy herself ready for luncheon.

  She was thinking to herself as she did so that he was now talking about his infirmity without sounding despondent.

  This was undoubtedly proof that she was making headway in her mission and she was feeling very pleased at such progress.

  *

  After luncheon, at which it was obvious that the cook had done her best to please, Dr. Adair arrived.

  The Earl went upstairs with him to his bedroom.

  When they had gone, Vara walked to the window of the Chieftain’s Room.

  She looked out over the garden and then thought that when the Earl returned she would insist that he sat for a while in the sunshine.

  There he could take in the fragrance of the flowers, the smell of salt water from the sea and the invigorating fresh air.

  He would hear the cries of seagulls and cormorants and she would describe to him how beautiful it all was.

  ‘I have to make him see Scotland with my own eyes,’ Vara told herself.

  As she thought of it, she became aware of a little sound behind her.

  She turned quickly to see a man standing by the fireplace.

  She had not heard the door open and she wondered who he was and how he had come in so quickly.

  Then, as she moved from the window, he exclaimed,

  “Vara! What are you doing here?”

  It was then that she recognised him.

  It was Hamish McDorn, a young man of the Clan she heartily disliked.

  In fact she had crossed swords with him just before she had left for England to look after her aunt.

  Hamish McDorn was the ‘Black Sheep’ of the Clan and her father had refused to have him in the house.

  He was unfortunately a relative of the late Earl and he had gone so far as to claim when the Viscount was killed that he should be declared the heir to the Chieftainship.

  No one, however, had paid any attention to him at the time.

  Vara had learnt since she had returned home that Hamish was still making preposterous claims before the present Earl arrived.

  Now, as she walked towards him, she thought that he seemed even more unpleasant than when she had last seen him.

  She had known him, of course, ever since she had been a child.

  His parents when they were alive had lived a long way up the Strath. They were a very pleasant couple and friendly with Lady McDorn.

  It was only when Hamish was older and was up to every sort of prank that he continually found himself in trouble
with the Elders.

  Then Sir Alistair had decreed that his daughter was to have nothing more to do with him under any circumstances.

  “The boy is a bad lot,” he proclaimed when Hamish was sixteen and he continued to say it over the years.

  Hamish was now twenty-five and all sorts of stories, some of them extremely bad, were told about him around the Clan.

  Vara was aware that all the more respectable members of the Clan would have nothing to do with him.

  As she approached him now, he repeated,

  “What are you doing here I would like to know?”

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” Vara replied. “I expect you are aware that his Lordship does not yet wish to receive visitors at the present time.”

  “I know about that,” Hamish answered, “but then I have as much right to The Castle as he has.”

  “That is nonsense and you know it,” Vara retorted, “and I see no reason why you should come here and upset him.”

  Hamish put his head a little to one side as he asked,

  “Are you giving the orders here? This is something new!”

  “I am here, if you must know,” Vara said coldly, “to read to his Lordship because he is having trouble with his eyes. He has enough problems to cope with without your adding to them. So go away, Hamish, and don’t upset him.”

  “So I will not upset him,” Hamish answered lightly, “and there is no reason for him to know, unless you tell him, that I am in The Castle.”

  Vara remembered that she had not heard the door open.

  “How did you get in?” she asked him sharply.

  “That is my business!” Hamish replied aggressively.

  “It also happens to be mine, Hamish, because at the moment I am looking after the Earl. You should not have come without being announced or indeed walk about The Castle without permission.”

  Hamish looked at her and there was an unpleasant smile on his lips.

  “If you think you can stop me,” he challenged, “you will find it very difficult.”

  Vara had to admit to herself that this was undoubtedly true.

  She was horrified at the idea that Hamish could move around The Castle without anyone being aware of it. He must have knowledge of some secret passages that connect some of the rooms in The Castle that were rumoured to exist when she was a little girl.