The Eyes of Love Read online

  She paused and, as the Earl did not speak, she went on,

  “Their tartan is black and dark green, which they wear to indicate the Gaelic appellation of Freicudan Du or Black Watch. Other regular troops wear scarlet coats, waistcoats and breeches and are therefore called ‘Red Soldiers’.”

  “I can see I have a great deal to learn,” the Earl remarked.

  Vara instantly felt that perhaps she had said too much and lapsed into silence.

  They drove on until the Earl turned and quizzed her,

  “Have you lived here all your life?”

  “Of course,” Vara replied. “My father’s family have owned our house here for more than three hundred years.”

  “Then how is it that your English is so perfect?” the Earl enquired.

  “Because I went to school in England. In fact you will find that my father has practically no Scottish accent and my mother none at all.”

  She did not say anything more thinking that it would be a mistake to do so.

  She was relieved when they finally arrived at her home.

  The General quickly managed to put the Earl at his ease and her mother spoke to him in her charming way that everybody who listened to her found irresistible.

  “We have been longing to meet you, my Lord,” she began, “and it is a delightful surprise that Vara should have brought you here for luncheon today.”

  “It was a surprise for me too,” the Earl smiled.

  “We were hoping that you would want to meet us,” Lady McDorn said, “but I am sure Vara felt that we could perhaps help you in some way.”

  “I have told the Earl, Papa,” Vara chimed in, “that you have been saying for years that something should be done about the young men in the fishing village. I heard this morning that Hamish is with them and I cannot help feeling that he is plotting something outrageous.”

  “That would not surprise me!” the General answered. “And you are quite right, I have been saying for years that something should be done about those young layabouts.”

  “What do you have in mind?” the Earl asked.

  At once they were talking animatedly about the different ways in which the young men could be employed gainfully.

  The General pointed out that there were a number of trees around the estate that needed felling and this could lead to boat building if they could find the right experts as instructors.

  It could prove a very profitable venture and they talked about this all through luncheon.

  Vara was listening intently to the debate and at the same time she was making sure that the food served to the Earl could be eaten by him without any difficulty.

  The two men talked on, trying to cap each other’s suggestions.

  Vara realised that the Earl for the moment had stopped worrying about his disability and was not thinking of himself.

  ‘This has been a success,’ she thought. ‘Now perhaps he will not be afraid of meeting the Elders. It is most important that he should meet them and in a cordial atmosphere.’

  They talked until it was getting on in the afternoon and the Earl thought that it was time that they should return to The Castle.

  Vara knew that he had enjoyed being with her father.

  When she said ‘goodbye’ to her mother, Lady McDorn said,

  “He is a charming young man. Surely the doctors can do something about his eyes?”

  “That is just what we are hoping and praying for,” Vara answered, “but apparently they simply don’t know what is wrong.”

  Lady McDorn sighed.

  “That is the story of so many ailments. I think perhaps he should go to London and see one of the top oculists of Harley Street.”

  “He has done so already,” Vara replied, “and they said the same as everybody else, that he could only hope that time will prove a great healer.”

  “That is poor comfort for him,” Lady McDorn answered.

  “I know,” Vara agreed, “but perhaps now that he is not worrying about it quite so much, time will prove an effective healer for him.”

  “I shall pray for him,” Lady McDorn said, “and I am sure, dearest, that you are doing the same.”

  “I am,” Vara said, “but I am sure that your prayers will be far more effective than mine.”

  Her mother kissed her.

  “You are a very clever and sensitive girl, Vara, and I only hope that the Earl will soon be better because we are missing you.”

  “It has been such a success for him to talk to Papa,” Vara said, “and I feel sure that he will want to come again.”

  She did not tell her mother that their contract was for only one week and she thought that this was not the right time now for making explanations.

  Her father was helping the Earl into the carriage as she joined them.

  She waved goodbye until they were out of sight of the house.

  Then she said,

  “It was a relief for Papa to talk to you about the fishing village, my Lord. It has worried him for years.”

  “He is right about it,” the Earl answered, “and I can see that something will have to be done and soon.”

  Vara wanted to give a little hoot of joy, but felt that it would be a mistake.

  Instead she said quietly,

  “I am sure that you and Papa will think up something that will not only help the young there, but will bring prosperity to many others of your people as well.”

  “Are they very poor?” the Earl enquired.

  “Yes, I am afraid they are, my Lord. You will have to find good outlets for the fabrics that the women spin with lambs’ wool and the fish that are caught in the sea.”

  “I am sure that can be organised,” the Earl said after a moment. “Now that there is a train service, it should not be difficult to get the fish carried at least as far as Edinburgh.”

  Again Vara thought with delight that at last he was beginning to think of how he could help his people.

  They stopped on the way home to put up the hood of the carriage as there was a strong wind now blowing in from the sea.

  When they reached The Castle, Vara was sure that what they had discussed today would open the door to the Earl agreeing to see the Elders by the end of the week.

  When they entered The Castle, Vara went up to her bedroom to take off her hat.

  Then, looking out of the window towards the sea, she gave a gasp.

  In the Bay there was a large yacht anchored.

  She looked at it in some surprise.

  Then, having quickly tidied her hair, she hurried downstairs to find Mr. Bryden.

  As she walked into the secretary’s room, he rose to his feet saying,

  “I am sorry, Miss Vara. I did not know that you were back.”

  “We have only just returned,” Vara told him, “and I see that there is a yacht at anchor in the Bay.”

  “It arrived about an hour ago,” Mr. Bryden said, “and Lord Belgrave, who is a friend of his Lordship’s, is waiting to see him in the Chieftain’s Room.”

  “But will his Lordship want to see him?” Vara asked.

  “I did not know what to say to him when Lord Belgrave was rowed ashore,” Mr. Bryden related. “Apparently he knows his Lordship very well and he is quite certain that he will be made welcome.”

  Worrying about this new development, Vara ran up the stairs.

  She went straight into the Chieftain’s Room.

  She thought maybe that the Earl was already there. Instead there was only one tall good-looking man of about forty.

  “Good afternoon, my Lord,” Vara said. “I hear you have come to see his Lordship and I am just going to find out if he will see you.”

  “He will see me, I am quite sure,” Lord Belgrave answered. “I have a good number of messages for him from his friends in India and I am hoping that the affliction to his eyes is now much better.”

  “I am afraid not,” Vara replied, “and because of it he has refused to meet anyone. But I will go and ask him if he will
see you.”

  “As we have not been introduced,” Lord Belgrave said, “you must tell me your name?”

  “My name is ‘Vara’, my Lord, and my father is General Sir Alistair McDorn.”

  Lord Belgrave gave an exclamation.

  “But then, of course, I know your father. He had a most distinguished career in the Black Watch.”

  “I have just taken the Earl to luncheon with him,” Vara remarked.

  She lowered her voice as she added,

  “It is the first time that he has met anybody outside The Castle since he came here on his great-uncle’s death.”

  “I can understand him feeling like that if he cannot see anything,” Lord Belgrave said sympathetically. “But surely the doctors can do something?”

  “They have told him to keep his eyes bandaged for at least a month,” Vara replied, “and are hoping that the problem will have largely solved itself by then.”

  Lord Belgrave made a helpless gesture with his hands as he said,

  “That does not sound as if they have much hope. It is a tragedy, an absolute tragedy, that anything like this should have happened to him. But, of course, it could only have happened in India.”

  “How did it – happen?” Vara asked tentatively. “I thought when I first heard about it that it must have happened in a battle with local insurgents.”

  “It was not exactly a battle,” Lord Belgrave said slowly, “and in fact I was there at the time.”

  “Then tell me – please tell me about it,” Vara pleaded. “It is what I have been longing to know and his Lordship will not talk about it to anyone.”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she was speaking, thinking that the Earl might appear at any moment.

  But a footman had closed the door behind her when she entered the room.

  Lord Belgrave walked towards the window and stood gazing out at his yacht.

  “It happened on the North-West Frontier,” he stated, “and I suppose it would be difficult for most people to believe it.”

  Vara raised her eyes to his as he went on,

  “There had been a great deal of trouble the previous month, but it had quietened down and the Viceroy said that he would like to visit the Fort. Of course he intended to congratulate those who had beaten off the tribesmen who had been attacking our troops with their Russian arms.”

  Vara nodded to show that she was listening intently.

  “We arrived there without difficulty and the Viceroy talked to the troops in the Fort who were delighted that he had come. I accompanied him because I happened to be staying at Government House at the time. He was attended by two of his aides-de-camp, one of them being Bruce McDorn, the present Earl.”

  Lord Belgrave paused as if he was looking back at what had occurred on that day.

  “It was after dinner,” he continued, “when we went out onto the battlements. There was a full moon and nothing could have been any more beautiful than the great rocks shining in the moonlight. The valley below us looked dark and mysterious and rather menacing.”

  Again he paused for a moment before he went on with his story,

  “And yet, as we knew, danger was all around us. However everything seemed very quiet, when suddenly three men sprang up out of the shadows to attack the Viceroy.”

  His voice sharpened as he continued,

  “It was so sudden and unexpected that they must have killed him if it had not been for Bruce McDorn.”

  “What did he do?” Vara asked.

  “He acted more quickly than I could have believed possible,” Lord Belgrave replied. “He shot the first two men before they could even raise their long knives. Then he tripped up the third man so that he fell backwards. At last a soldier, somewhat belatedly, raised his rifle and shot him dead.”

  “What happened – then?” Vara asked.

  It did not sound as if the Earl had been injured in any way.

  “It was then, while the Viceroy was now surrounded by soldiers, that suddenly out of the shadows, nobody could explain later how he managed to get there, there appeared a Fakir.”

  “A Fakir!” Vara exclaimed.

  “As you know, they are Holy Men who dedicate their lives to concentration and prayer,” Lord Belgrave explained. “They are deeply respected by everybody in India, whatever their caste might be.”

  “I have read about them,” Vara said quickly.

  “The Fakir looked down at the dead men who had tried to assassinate the Viceroy and then he cursed the hand that had killed them. I did not understand what he was saying, but I was told later that he used one of the most powerful curses known.”

  “A curse?” Vara murmured.

  “He said,” Lord Belgrave continued, “that, as the men had lost their lives, so the man who had killed them should no longer see the world in which he lived but only the darkness that he had sent the dead men to.”

  Vara gave a cry of horror.

  “But that is – cruel! Unbelievably – cruel.”

  “None of us took it very seriously at the time,” Lord Belgrave said. “We went back to the Mess and had a stiff drink, toasting Bruce McDorn, and the Viceroy naturally thanked him profusely.”

  “And then what – happened?” Vara asked.

  “We all went to bed,” Lord Belgrave said, “and on the next morning we were told that McDorn had indeed gone blind. When we returned to the Viceregal House in Simla, where we were staying, there was a telegram from England telling McDorn that his great-uncle was dead and that he was now the Earl of Dornoch and the Chieftain of the Clan.”

  “That must have been a shock for him,” Vara commented.

  “He realised that he had to go home at once. But when the doctors tried to treat his eyes, both in Simla and Calcutta, they could only shake their heads and say that there was nothing they could do.”

  “It appears that the doctors in London have – said the same thing,” Vara said in a low voice.

  “It is quite impossible for us to understand how a curse uttered by a Fakir could work so effectively,” Lord Belgrave said, “but strange things happen in India. Some of their Priests and Fakirs have a power that Westerners simply cannot comprehend.”

  “There must be – something that will – cure him,” Vara asked desperately.

  “We can only pray that is so,” Lord Belgrave said. “On my way here I was hoping that the situation would be better than when I last saw him in Calcutta.”

  “I am afraid it is just the same,” Vara answered sadly, “and he is trying to shut himself away from the world, which, of course, is totally wrong.”

  “Indeed it is,” Lord Belgrave agreed. “But I know that you, as your father’s daughter, will do all you can for him. I have always been told that Alistair McDorn never knew when he was beaten.”

  Vara laughed.

  “I hope I can say the same and thank you for telling me what you have. Now I will go and see if his Lordship will see you and I am very sure he will.”

  She went to the Earl’s room and knocked on his door.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “It is Vara,” she replied, “and, as I expect you have been told, your friend Lord Belgrave is here.”

  “I don’t want to see anyone!” the Earl replied in a disagreeable tone.

  Vara opened the door and then entered the room to find that the Earl was standing by the window.

  She thought that he was wishing he could see the yacht that he had been told was lying in the Bay.

  He did not turn round as she stood just inside the room and merely repeated,

  “I will see no one!”

  “But Lord Belgrave very much wants to see you,” Vara urged. “He has come a long way and you cannot be so inhospitable as not even to offer him a drink.”

  For a moment the Earl did not respond.

  Then he said angrily,

  “Why can I not be left alone? I have no wish to have friends telling me how sorry they are that I am blind.”

  “I am
sure he will say nothing of the sort. He wants to give you news of India and to tell you why he is here.”

  There was a long pause.

  Then at last the Earl agreed with a sigh,

  “Oh, very well. If I have to make a fool of myself, I had better get on with it. Take me to him. I suppose all it comes down to is that he wants to stay here.”

  “I should think he would be far more comfortable in his own yacht,” Vara said, “but it would be polite of you to invite him.”

  The Earl did not answer.

  As she reached his side, he put his hand on her shoulder heavily, as though he wished to make her uncomfortable.

  She walked towards the door with him moving beside her.

  Then they were out in the passage and walking towards the Chieftain’s Room.

  “Dammit!” the Earl swore beneath his breath. “Just how much longer do I have to go on living in this accursed manner?”

  It was then, as she heard the agony in his voice, that Vara had an idea.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Having taken the Earl into the Chieftain’s Room to meet Lord Belgrave, Vara slipped away to her bedroom.

  As she entered, she saw that the small case she had brought back with her from her home that afternoon had not been unpacked.

  After luncheon, when the Earl and her father were drinking a glass of fine port, Vara had gone upstairs with her mother.

  “I need two more evening gowns, Mama,” she said. “Have you a small case that I can put them in?”

  “Of course I have, my darling,” Lady McDorn replied.

  She paused and then added,

  “It is a pity that the Earl cannot see you in these pretty gowns.”

  “On the contrary,” Vara smiled, “the ghosts of the previous Earls look down at me with satisfaction. The present Earl cannot see the dining room table, but it looks very glamorous with the gold candelabra and some of the beautiful silver, which I told the Earl was part of the family treasure.”

  Lady McDorn did not say anything.

  Vara, however, realised that she was wishing that her daughter could be surrounded by charming people and young men who she could dance with.