‘I’ve missed you.’
‘Is the widow watching?’
The widow. It took him a minute to catch that but realised, of course, Marcia would think he was playing for an audience. Since he’d implied…
‘Have you warned Marcia about our Susie?’ Jake asked, sounding interested, and Hamish grimaced.
‘I haven’t told Marcia anything.’
‘Only that the whole place is expecting you to marry her,’ Marcia said smoothly. ‘You might as well say it like it is, sweetheart. Keep things out in the open so there’s no misunderstanding.’
‘No misunderstanding,’ Jake said blankly. ‘Right.’
‘Um…good trip?’ Hamish said, feeling desperate. ‘Have you two found lots to talk about?’
‘I slept all the way,’ Marcia said. She turned to Jake and gave him her loveliest smile, which was only slightly patronising. ‘Thank you so much. I’m afraid I was very boring.’
‘Not at all,’ Jake told her politely. ‘I’ll leave you to your Hamish, then, shall I?’
‘That would be kind.’ Peasantry dismissed.
‘Right, then,’ Jake said, and with a wry grin he folded his long body back into the driver’s seat of his battered Land Cruiser, gave a salute of acknowledgement and left.
‘That was a bit brusque,’ Hamish said, frowning as Jake backed out of the forecourt. ‘Did you two not find anything to talk about at all?’
‘Honestly, darling, he’s a family doctor. I don’t even have any bunions to talk about.’
‘I guess not.’
Marcia was out of her territory, he thought, suppressing irritation. She wasn’t normally this brittle. Maybe she was just better among her own kind.
‘So where’s the widow?’ she asked.
‘Inside. I’ll take you to meet her.’
But she hung back, taking a moment to absorb the whole moonlit scene, the fairy-tale castle, the mountains behind, the fabulous coastline.
‘This will sell for a mint,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, Hamish, imagine this in
‘There’s nothing wrong with Scotland,’ he said, and startled himself by how fervent he sounded.
‘You’ve never been to Scotland.’
‘No, but I’m a direct descendant…’
She gave a peal of laughter and tucked her hand into his arm. ‘You’ve become the Lord of Loganaich,’ she said affectionately. ‘My very own earl, defending the land of his forebears. Any minute now you’ll be up on the turrets playing your bagpipes.’
He grinned, relaxing a little. ‘I do wear a mean kilt.’
‘This I have to see.’
‘You need to meet Susie first.’
‘The widow. OK, let’s get the scary part over and then get down to the fun part. This place sounded good on paper but in reality… Wow! Let’s figure what this pile is really worth!’
The meeting between Susie and Marcia was not an unqualified success. Susie was in the kitchen, cleaning up. She greeted Marcia with cautious courtesy. Marcia responded in kind-while clinging to Hamish’s arm with proprietorial affection-and then Susie excused herself.
‘There’s steak in the fridge, Hamish, if Marcia’s hungry. I’d cook it but-’
‘But I do a better steak than you do,’ Hamish told her, smiling encouragingly. Wishing she didn’t look so tense. Wishing he hadn’t told Marcia there was a problem.
Wishing Marcia wasn’t clinging quite so close.
‘I’ll go to bed, then,’ Susie said, and Marcia glanced at her watch, astonished.
‘It’s only eight.’
‘Susie’s recovering from injuries,’ Hamish said, and then wished he hadn’t said that as well, as Susie flashed him a look of anger.
‘I’m not recovering from injuries. I’m recovered from injuries.’
‘You limp,’ Marcia pointed out, and Susie glowered a bit and limped her way past them.
‘So I do,’ she agreed. ‘It’s my own little idiosyncrasy. But I like it. I’m going to bed to read a good romance novel and I don’t intend to recover at all. Hamish, you need to show Marcia through the castle. I’ll bet she’s interested in your inventory. And when you’ve finished… Marcia, could you let me know when this hotel assessor’s expected, as I need to organise myself to leave? Good night.’
Taffy was snoozing by the stove. Susie scooped her up, glared at the pair of them and left.
‘Have I offended her?’ Marcia asked, and Hamish sighed.
‘I guess…I mean, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to imply there was a problem.’
‘What do you mean? Her limp? It’s obvious. She can’t expect me not to notice.’
That wasn’t the problem he’d been talking about. ‘Never mind. Are you hungry?’
‘Actually, I ate on the way here and I’m very tired. Maybe the widow has a good idea with early bed.’ She snuggled back against him. ‘Where are we sleeping?’
‘I’ve put you in the bedroom next to mine. Come and I’ll show you.’
‘Not yours?’
‘Um, no. It just seems…’
‘A bit mean?’ Marcia was struggling to understand. ‘Honey, if she really wants you, then the faster she comes to terms with reality the better.’
‘It’s not like that. It just… Marcia, it seems like this is Susie’s home and I’d like it to stay that way until we leave. I think…separate bedrooms.’
She raised a cool eyebrow. ‘Well, that’s fine with me. I have a date with my laptop. I’ve missed so much, trying to get here. There won’t be a romance novel for me in bed tonight.’
Hamish slept late. Hours late by his standards. He always woke early in New York to find the latest on the Hang Seng before he went to work. As he was always behind his desk by seven, that meant he went to bed in the small hours and he woke in the small hours. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d fallen into bed at ten and slept for more than eight hours.
But here… It was the silence of the place, he thought, or that there was no desk waiting and Jodie had cancelled his imperatives.
He woke and it was already seven-thirty. He lay lazily back on his mound of satin pillows and watched the early morning sunbeams flicker through the floating dreamcatcher Deirdre had hung at the window. Jodie had hung a dreamcatcher on the window of his outer office back in Manhattan. He’d asked her what it was and she’d explained the ludicrous concept in detail.
Susie might not think it ludicrous, he thought. Jodie hadn’t. Deirdre obviously hadn’t.
He needed Marcia to set him right. She’d be up by now. He should go find her.
But his thoughts kept wandering, snagging different ideas like the dreamcatcher was designed to do.
Where was Jodie was right now? he wondered. Was she making choir stalls with her beloved Nick? He’d miss his secretary when he went back.
When he went back. When he left here.
When he left Susie.
Susie was leaving first.
Maybe he could keep in touch with Susie, he thought. Just to check that she was OK. He’d tell Kirsty and Jake that he’d keep an eye on her.
She’d throw such an offer back in his face, he decided. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her.
But he rejected that, too. Of course she needed someone. She thought she was strong enough to care for a baby and a dog and a career. She was planning on working as a landscape gardener again, but anyone could see
