She gave a little cry of horror, but, when he left her flat as dawn was breaking, he was not certain if he even wanted to return.
‘Perhaps,’ he thought, ‘I am getting older.’
Whatever it was, some of the glamour or perhaps the right word was ‘ecstasy’ had gone out of what had been an experience lingering in his memory on the P. & O. liner all the way back to India after his last leave.
His arrival at The Castle was exactly what he had expected with the pipers, the elders and the Clansmen, who had walked for miles over the moors in order to be present, all wearing the kilt in the McCaron tartan.
The Duke was grateful that his own Scottish dress had been waiting for him in store at his Club, so that he was able to appear among his people dressed as they would expect him to be, like thems
