Part 9 (2/2)
”h.e.l.lo, mother, what brought you here?”
”It's high time that I checked on our goats. I've neglected it all summer. You took a bath?”
”Yes, I do it often.”
”Aren't you scared somebody might come?”
She shrugged her shoulder. ”n.o.body except you and father have so far.”
”Come help me catching the goats. I want to have a look at them.”
After inspecting all six goats, she left again.
While her mother was with her, Helen made an effort to hide her agitation. She had no doubt that her mother had come to spy on her. Did she suspect Betty had lied? What would happen if she caught her with Andrew? Would she tell father? She suddenly broke out in cold sweat. She had to warn Andrew. Maybe they shouldn't see each other here anymore. But where else? ... ”I want to see him,” she whispered. She knew it was more than simply a wish. It had become an emotional, even physical need! They had agreed to meet again tomorrow. What should she do? She found no answer. However, she would be much more vigilant from now on.
The following morning, rather than follow her usual gradual ascent to the lochan, she took the more direct but strenuous route over the top of the ridge. Andrew was already on their rock, waiting. She would have liked to shout a greeting, but cowered in tall clumps of gra.s.ses, watching the approach from the s.h.i.+elings. It did not take long, and she saw her mother rapidly come along the path. Quickly, she ran down to meet her.
”Why aren't you with the goats?” her mother called out, when she saw her.
”There's a man near the lochan.”
”Where are the goats?” her mother questioned alarmed.
”They are still in their shelter. I saw them from the top. I thought I would wait there until he has left, and then I saw you and came down to warn you.” She surprised herself how calmly she could lie. ”You want to come up and see for yourself?”
Mary hesitated for a second or two and then said: ”No. You go up there again and wait until he is gone.” She turned to leave. ”Be careful, la.s.s.”
Did her mother swallow it? She watched her return to the huts and then quickly scrambled up to the crest again. There she waited for about a quarter hour, keeping an eye on the s.h.i.+elings. Only then did she make her descent to the lochan. Andrew saw her scampering down and came to meet her near the sh.o.r.e.
”Mother has been spying on me,” Helen said, out of breath, disengaging herself from his embrace. She quickly told him what happened. ”Andrew, you must leave. I don't trust her. She might come back again.”
”No, Helen. I want to be with you. Even so we can only spend such little time together and every minute is precious.”
”But if she catches us, then-”
”-then we tell her that we want to get married.” Suddenly, there was an uncertain look on his face. ”Or don't you want to marry me?”
”Oh, silly! You know that I want to marry you.”
They fell into each other arms, trading quick kisses.
”But she may not let us. She said that no MacGregor can ever wed a Campbell... And father would rather kill you. Oh, Andrew. What are we going to do?”
”We could run away and get married. You mean more to me than anything else... Are you sure that your mother wouldn't see reason? And if she does, maybe your father might be willing to drink claret with me again.” A smile crossed his face, as he said that.
”I'll try to catch mother when she's in a good mood... But what shall we do now?”
”Let's release your goats and then have our little banquet hidden behind the goat hut.”
Later on, they lay in the heath.
”You proposed to me, Andrew.”
”Yes, I did. Did you ever have any doubt?”
She shook her head. ”No, but somehow I always thought that being proposed would be more dramatic.”
He jumped to his knees, pulled her into a sitting position, pressed his lips to her hand, and then said solemnly: ”Lady Helen, I have lost my heart to you. Will you give me your hand in marriage?”
In vain, she tried to compose herself, and finally managed to push her chin forward haughtily, while her eyes kept laughing. ”Yes, Sir Lancelot, I do.”
”May I kiss you then, my lady?”
She pulled him down to her, sealing his lips with hers, their tongues teasing each other, their emotions threatening to boil over. She experienced a strong tingling in her body, and knew that he felt the same, felt an urge for more, for an even closer fusion of body and mind. Andrew's right hand came to rest on her bosom, cupping a breast. She smiled at him invitingly. He gently gathered its softness, kissing her again. Suddenly, she slipped deftly away from under him and jumped up, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Reaching for his hands, she said: ”Come.”
”Where?”
”To the lochan... Let's see who's first in the water.”
He looked at her questioningly.
”Don't you want to?”
”Sure, I want to. But last time you told me off.”
She smiled. ”I won't this time.”
She darted off, laughing, fumbling with her brooch-the lurking threat of her mother surprising them forgotten. When they reached the sh.o.r.e, she had dropped her plaid and was wiggling out of her petticoat. Before he got off his tight trews, she was already in the water. They splashed each other and then dove into the lake, swimming side by side. He grabbed her around the waist.
”No, Andrew. Don't dunk me!”
”I won't. I want to hold you.”
They embraced. He could barely stand. He was holding her up. She had her arms around his neck, pressing the hard nipples to his chest. She sensed his manhood swell against her thigh. Embarra.s.sed, he let go. She looked at him with sparkling eyes, and then started to swim toward the sh.o.r.e just under their rock. He caught up with her. There were several bushes clinging to cracks in the rock.
”Come,” she said laughing and, ducking under one of them, she dove through a fair size opening in the rocks. Two strokes got her through and she broke the surface under a high vaulted ceiling. Light entered through narrow the fissures in the rock wall. She was already climbing onto a wide ledge, when Andrew surfaced.
The ledge led into a dry chamber, thirty feet long and ten feet wide at the front, narrowing like a cone to three feet at its end. Beyond the ledge, the floor was covered in fine sand, rising gradually to the back. Flat rocks along the walls served as shelves for small knickknacks and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales that Andrew had lent her the week before. She saw him looking at the book and chuckled: ”I didn't know anybody would write such naughty stories.”
”Don't you like them?”
”Yes, I do.” Making a sweeping motion with her hands around the cave, she said: ”This is where I hid after our first swim together.”
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