Part 12 (2/2)
”Don't be silly, Robert. Now you really make me mad.” She again tried to wrestle her arm free. ”Robert, this hurts!” she cried.
The others ahead of them turned to see what was happening. He let go, throwing her arm down, and stormed ahead. She rubbed the painful spot above the wrist and linked arms with Betty who had waited for her.
”Are you going to see him?” whispered Betty.
”How could I? ... I don't know where he stays. Anyway, I couldn't get away without raising suspicions.”
”He'll be at the lochan.”
”How do you know? Did he tell you?”
”No, he didn't... I just know that he'll be there tomorrow, waiting for you.” Betty smiled. ”I never told you that I had a crush on him... And I never thanked him.”
Helen looked at her sister in surprise. ”I never thanked him either. He didn't expect any thanks.”
”Will you go and see him then?”
A paralyzing battle was already raging inside her. After a while, she murmured: ”I shouldn't, not after what happened between our clans... And I'm promised to Robert.”
”But you never stopped loving him... I know, even if you never told me.” Betty squeezed her arm.
She's right, but I must be strong, she admonished herself.
Helen didn't go for a walk with Robert that evening. Sunday morning the whole clan went to church in Killin. She hoped that Andrew might be there too, fearing it at the same time, but he wasn't. Back in the glen by early afternoon, she selected a book and told her mother that she was going up to the terrace behind the clachan to read for the rest of the afternoon. Once out of sight, she hurried up the path to the lochan. When she came over the crest, she saw a horse grazing. She looked up to the promontory, but could not see anybody. What did I come up here for? she asked herself suddenly. Wouldn't it be better to leave? She dithered. But knowing Andrew was up on the promontory irresistibly drew her up the path. At the corner, she paused. He sat against a boulder at the back of the rock, his elbows resting on his pulled-up knees, his face hidden in his palms. She watched him for a while. He sensed her presence and raised his head, a sad smile greeting her. He got up and walked slowly to her, locking eyes.
”h.e.l.lo, Helen!” he murmured, stopping in front of her, and taking both her hands. ”I hoped you would come.”
So Betty was right. ”h.e.l.lo, Andrew.”
She tried to withdraw her hands, but he held firmly on to them.
”You look well, Helen.”
His green eyes penetrated hers. She wanted to look away, but couldn't, feeling herself sliding deeper into his. With a major effort, she broke eye contact. He let go of her hands.
”Come, Helen, will you sit with me for a while?”
She followed him to his pouch. They sat, facing each other. Smiling, he murmured: ”I brought a few delicacies.”
He opened a little jar, broke off a small piece of a bun, and heaped salted roe on it. He pa.s.sed it to her. ”For old times sake,” he whispered.
Helen waited for him to prepare a second one. They both took a bite at the same time, chuckling embarra.s.sed.
”Tell me about yourself, Helen.”
For a while she did not answer. She didn't want to tell him that she was getting married soon.
”You're getting married, aren't you?” he asked softly.
She met his gaze and murmured: ”Yes, Andrew.”
”I wish that you'll be happy, Helen.”
How can I? Maybe if you hadn't returned, maybe if I had never known you I could have found some happiness. She said nothing, keeping her eyes to the ground. Then she asked reproachfully: ”Why have you come back, Andrew?”
”I'm going to America. I wanted to see the Highlands for a last time.”
”But why did you come back here? To the lochan?”
”I don't know... I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. I had to see you once more, Helen.” A sad smile lingered on his face. ”Why have you come to the lochan, Helen?”
She blushed for having the question thrown back at her. ”So this is the last time?”
”Yes, tomorrow I'll leave for Glasgow and then south to Liverpool.”
The conversation faltered. Helen experienced again that familiar urge to flee. Self-conscious, a tinge of desperation, she asked: ”Where have you been, Andrew?”
”I traveled... London, France, Switzerland, Italy, Greece... I was trying to forget us...” The sentence remained suspended. Their eyes met briefly before each broke away. ”I want to make a new start in America, away from the quarrels of Europe.”
Away from me, echoed Helen's mind.
Andrew reached for her book which she had placed next to her. ”Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, by Samuel Richardson,” he read aloud. ”I don't know this one. What's it about?”
Helen was glad that their talk s.h.i.+fted away from their own unspoken, but ever present summer of love. ”It's a story told in the form of letters by a young maidservant to her parents and ...”
”And?”
”-and how she struggled against the attempts by the young gentleman of the house to seduce her with promises.”
”And is she successful in defending her virtue?”
Helen smiled at the choice of words. ”Yes, she remains virtuous and strong.”
”But it can hardly end just like that.”
”No. In the end the young man proposes to her-”
”-and they lived happily ever after,” he interrupted with a hint of sarcasm.
”The letters end before that. It's well written,” she said defensively.
”And what's your view? Was the young woman truly virtuous or was she extremely clever and scheming, making sure that the young man would possess her only in marriage and not simply for his pleasure.”
”That's maybe a rather cynical view of her motives.”
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