The Heir of the Castle (Harlequin Romance) (8 page)

The question took her by surprise. A million thoughts and possibilities had floated around her head. What if Angus McLean had made contact with her dad years ago? What if she’d had a chance to spend summers here—to spend summers playing in
The Sound of Music
gazebo, pretending to be Liesl? What if she’d had a chance to grow up around Callan McGregor?

She pushed the thought from her mind and met his smile. ‘I was a girl’s girl. Pirates and damp caves would have horrified me. I guess, as every little girl would, I would have dreamed of being a fairy princess in the castle. To be honest, I would probably have spent most of my time sweeping up and down that fabulous staircase. Hours of fun presenting myself at the ball.’ She gave an imaginary curtsey. He went to speak but she raised her finger. ‘But as a teenager, I would have put a no-fly zone around the gazebo and spent every evening re-enacting the dancing scene, singing “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” with the gentleman of my choice.’

Callan raised his eyebrows. ‘And who might that have been?’

He moved a little closer. Or did she just imagine it?

Nope. His fingers had definitely edged nearer hers on the wall. ‘That all depends.’

‘Depends on what?’

His voice had grown quieter, huskier. It was sending shivers down her spine and her body was reacting in the most natural manner—moving even closer to hear his words.

‘Depends on who the hero of the moment was.’ It was the perfect time to tease him. And she had to tease him. Because otherwise she might end up wishing for something else entirely. ‘When I was sixteen I went through a real retro phase—I loved Marty McFly from
Back to the Future
. I wanted him to magically appear in his DeLorean and take me off. By seventeen I’d moved on completely and thought I would marry a member of Take That.’

Callan cringed. ‘Save me from boy bands!’

She shook her head. ‘It was downhill all the way from there. I still had a tiny bit of retro films going on. Indiana Jones was definitely my overall favourite.’

He raised his eyes. ‘So, no pirates?’ His eyes were darker in here. He was standing with his back to the incoming light, making his pupils even bigger.

It was easy to imagine what film he was talking about now. She smiled. ‘No, funnily enough, pirates never did it for me.’

He blinked. Thick, dark lashes over bright green eyes nearly obliterated by the huge pupils. ‘Pity.’

He said the word so quietly it was almost a whisper. But it was the hidden implication. The expression on his face. Laurie was frozen. She couldn’t move. No, she didn’t want to move.

She knew exactly what he was thinking. Because her mind was in the same place.

She was in the same position as earlier. Inches away from Callan McGregor. Except this time she wasn’t standing on a set of exposed steps; this time she was standing in a darkened cave.

Any second now he might move closer. She couldn’t help it. Her lips felt instantly dry and she ran her tongue along them.

He lifted his hand and her breath caught in her throat. Was he going to kiss her? But no. He reached up and touched a long brown curl, pushing it back over her shoulder. ‘You’re a strange one, Laurie Jenkins.’

She tilted her head to the side. ‘What do you mean?’

He sighed. ‘I mean, I haven’t found you stealing the family silver. You don’t seem that interested in the Murder Mystery Weekend, but you
do
seem really interested in the castle.’

‘That’s because I am.’ It was the simplest answer because it was true. It was cold in here. If she just inched forward a little...

‘But why? Because of how much it will be worth if you inherit it?’

His words sounded harsh. And they offended her. She pulled back.

‘Is that what you think?’

Callan hadn’t moved his eyes from hers. ‘That’s just it, Laurie—I’m not sure what I think.’

She moved a little backwards. His gaze was starting to unnerve her. But she was determined to speak her mind.

‘I want the opportunity to meet other members of my so-called family. I’m still not sure how I feel about all this. Most of the time it makes me angry. You talk about Angus McLean with great affection, Callan, but for me—he’s just some unknown guy that ignored his children. I can’t get my head round that at all.’ She lifted her hands up. ‘And this, a castle, spectacular grounds, caves and a history just waiting to be learned. It’s more than I could ever have imagined. I’m trying to decide how much I want to be part of all this—if at all.’

His expression changed quickly. He looked almost scornful. ‘You mean you don’t want to inherit the castle?’

She shook her head. He really didn’t understand her at all. And she wasn’t even sure she could put it into words. She could barely understand it herself. ‘I mean, I don’t know what I would do with it, Callan. Look at me.’ She put her hand on her chest. ‘I’m a London girl from a small family. I’m a lawyer. What do I know about castles? I’ve never seen anything like this before. How on earth would I fit in? You’ve had the benefit of being here since you were young. You grew up here. You know everything there is to know—’

‘Or not.’ His words were quick. She’d forgotten Angus hadn’t told him about his children either. This must be even harder for him than it was for her.

He’d cut off her frustration mid-sentence. And she just couldn’t find the words to continue. She needed some time. She needed some time to get her head around all this.

She took a deep breath in the vain hope it would fill her lungs and straighten out her head.

Work. Getting away from work had been the first step for her.

The letter and invite to Annick Castle had been the starting point in the process, but now she was away and out of her usual environment she was scared of how she was feeling. She was scared by how much she was embracing things, relishing the change and enjoying little things she would never usually experience.

She was scared of the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach when she realised she would have to board a train in a few days to head back down to London.

Back to the long hours, aching muscles and tension headaches. Back to a life that revolved completely around work. She’d long since abandoned her gym membership after she’d only found the time to go twice. Was that what she really wanted?

The waves started to lap in around her feet. Callan looked down. ‘Time to go. The tide comes in quite slowly at this time of day. We’ve got around twenty minutes to get up the steps.’

He strode out of the cave into the bright sunlight while Laurie stood for a few seconds longer.

She took a deep breath. What was she doing? She had no idea who Callan McGregor was. Every time she was around him she was unsettled.

She couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit envious of the fact he’d grown up here.

She couldn’t help but feel even more envious that Angus never had any expectation of him beyond going to university.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. This was disloyal. She wasn’t even going to allow herself to think like that.

It was time to get a hold of herself. Time to stop with the crazy thoughts and focus on the reason she was here—to try and get to know her family members.

She lifted her head and walked back outside into the sunlight.

CHAPTER SIX

‘K
NOCK
,
KNOCK
.’

Callan cringed. He’d recognise that high-pitched voice anywhere. It was Robin, the Murder Mystery Weekend organiser. It didn’t matter where in the castle he tried to hide, the guy seemed to have an inbuilt antenna and could find him anyway.

Robin stuck his head around the door. ‘Dinner will be served in ten minutes. We were hoping you would have made it to the pre-dinner drinks. You did agree to participate.’ There it was. That tiny disapproving edge to his voice that he seemed to have in every conversation with Callan. It was almost as if he were an eighty-year-old grumpy headmaster trapped inside a gangly twenty-five-year-old’s body.

Callan tried not to say what he was really thinking. He stared at the crumpled piece of card he’d been given earlier with his instructions. They included
Flirt with Lucy Clark, get into an argument with Philippe Deveraux
. No problem. If the man was drunk again and put his hands on Laurie he’d do more than argue with him.

Where had that come from? The thought surprised him. He’d only known the woman two days and already she was getting under his skin.

Who was he kidding?

She’d probably got under his skin from the second the smoke had cleared at the railway station and he’d caught sight of the curvy brunette. But when they’d been standing on the steps earlier and he could see her brown eyes filled with tears he couldn’t help but feel protective towards her. Something was going on with Laurie Jenkins—and it was nothing to do with inheriting a castle. The question was, did he really want to find out?

Did he want to get to know any of Angus’s relatives who were milling around the place he thought of as his home? Once one of them inherited it, he would have to clear out his things and start staying in his Edinburgh town house. And even though he owned a beautiful home he couldn’t bear the thought of that.

The place he called home was here.

‘Callan, can I count on you?’

Robin. He’d forgotten he was even there. He gave the organiser a quick nod and watched him scuttle off.

Callan closed his computer. He was doing exactly what he’d been dreading. Examining the castle accounts. In the interim period between Angus dying and the castle being handed over he’d been appointed as caretaker. The upkeep of the castle was huge. Heating, lighting and maintenance costs were astronomical. The roof needed some repairs. They needed to employ more staff to help Bert with the grounds. Whoever inherited Annick Castle was going to get a nasty shock.

A horrible little coil of guilt was snaking around him. He should have stepped in earlier. He should have spoken to Angus about how run-down parts of the estate were becoming.

But the truth was he had too much respect for Angus to ever have done that.

But maybe there was a little hope. Maybe if he made more of an effort to talk to the relatives he could plant the seeds about how costly the castle would be. With any luck he could put in a generous offer and buy the castle, just as he’d always wanted to.

It seemed mercenary. It seemed calculating. But none of these people felt the way he did about the castle. The only one who’d shown any real interest in anything other than its retail value was Laurie, and even she’d admitted that she’d be out of her depth.

He picked up the jacket that was sitting on the Louis XV armchair. It was the same one he’d worn the night before. He’d no idea whose idea it had been that all the guests should dress in 1920s clothes but this was as far as he’d go.

He could hear the noise in the main drawing room as he descended the stairs, some laughter louder than others.

He saw Laurie as soon as he entered the room. She was sitting next to another woman on one of the red velvet chaises longues. It was Mary, from Ireland, the one aunt that she’d really wanted to talk to.

She was wearing an emerald-green dress with beading around the scooped neckline. It skirted the top of her knees and she had a matching pair of shoes. Her hair was swept back on one side with an elaborate clasp made of jewels and blue and green feathers. Was that a peacock? He couldn’t help but smile.

The dress could have been made specifically for her. It skimmed her curves, hinting at them without giving too much away. The dress colour accentuated the light tan of her skin and the glossy chestnut of her hair that hung in curls around one shoulder. She’d applied some heavier make-up, her eyes outlined in kohl and her lips red and glossy. It was all he could do to stop himself staring at them.

But what he noticed most about her was how animated she seemed. She was clutching a photograph in one hand that she’d obviously been showing to her aunt and the two of them were talking at once. Her eyes were sparkling, her other hand gesturing frequently, and her aunt Mary seemed equally engaged.

Laurie was the only person in the room he was interested in talking to, but he couldn’t disturb them. He walked over to the sideboard where a vast array of drinks was laid out. He didn’t for a second imagine that any of the bottles had been half empty when they’d been put out, but most of them were well on their way to being finished.

He poured himself some soda water and gritted his teeth. He did drink alcohol himself—in moderation. But he hated being around people that were drunk. Having an alcoholic as a father did that to you. When his father had succumbed to alcoholic liver disease a few years ago Callan had actually felt a sigh of relief. It was as if he could finally shake off that part of his life.

He looked around the room again. He was still finding it hard to get his head around the fact that he was surrounded by Angus’s relatives—Angus’s
family
. Twelve people who’d never had a single conversation with Angus McLean in their lives, one of whom could inherit the thing he’d held most dear. No matter which way he looked at it, it still didn’t make sense.

But as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was noticing a few similarities in some of the guests. Two of the sons definitely looked like Angus—one so much so that Marion had commented it was like being around a younger version of him.

One of his daughters had identical blue twinkling eyes and a dimple in her right cheek. He couldn’t see any physical similarities in any of the other relatives.

Family. Why hadn’t Angus surrounded himself with these people?

He’d never really understood the whole ‘Annick Castle should be kept in the family’ ethos and had questioned Angus about it on more than one occasion.

But Angus had made comments about family on other continents. Callan’s problem was he’d imagined that was some distant far-flung second cousin who’d eventually inherit the castle. He’d always had the thought at the back of his mind the said cousin wouldn’t want to move continent and change their life, so would be happy with a financial offer instead.

But he hadn’t imagined this. He hadn’t imagined children.

It made it all so much more personal.

He watched as Laurie threw back her head and laughed, revealing the paler skin of her throat. It was the same hearty laugh he’d heard in the kitchen earlier. He liked it, but from the way Laurie had acted earlier today he guessed she didn’t get to do it often enough.

It was as if the rest of the room just faded into oblivion whenever she was around. At least that was what happened in his head. This woman was invading every part of his senses. Even when he wasn’t with her he was thinking about her, and when he
was
with her it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself.

What had she meant—
What if you can’t find your place in life
? She was a lawyer living in London. She’d gone to Cambridge to do her degree. Surely she’d already found her place in life?

He knew she was successful—he’d Googled her. There didn’t seem to be any bad reports about her work and the case she’d quoted the other night—about winning a client half a million pounds—had been entirely true.

And why was Laurie Jenkins intriguing him so much? Why, when she’d looked as if she was about to burst into tears on the coastal steps, had he just wanted to put his arms around her?

Everything about her drew him in like a magnet. Her sparkiness, her ability to cut through the crap, but still have a hint of vulnerability about her. She spoke with love about her father, disappointment that he hadn’t got to meet Angus McLean and she didn’t try to hide her disdain that Angus hadn’t met his children.

He couldn’t blame her. And as much as that hurt him, part of him was pleased that she didn’t tiptoe around him.

So what was it that was making Laurie Jenkins unhappy? Because he could see it. See it in her eyes when she had those fleeting moments off in a little world of her own. He could sense it in the little gaps in conversation as she tried to take in the beauty of Annick Castle and its surroundings.

All he knew was he liked it better when Laurie had a smile on her face and that twinkle in her brown eyes. He liked it better when he could hear the laughter that seemed to come from the very bottom of her soul. Just as she was now.

Her eyes met his across the room and she paused for a second, then lifted the glass of rosé she had in her hand towards him and gave him a little smile of acknowledgement.

‘Dinner is served, everyone.’ Robin’s voice jolted him.

Callan caught Robin’s steely glare clearly directed at him. Darn it. He’d forgotten about flirting with Laurie and causing an argument. To be frank it was the last thing on his mind. Flirting with Laurie he could do in a heartbeat, but the argument? He really couldn’t be bothered. He’d just need to remedy that at dinner.

Laurie walked straight over to him as they entered the dining room and reached the table, her green dress swishing around her with the sway of her hips as she moved. ‘I met my aunt Mary,’ she said. ‘And she’s fabulous. It’s so strange how some of her mannerisms are the same as my dad’s. Even though they never met. I can’t believe it.’

She glanced at the table with the name settings and promptly reached over and swapped hers with someone else’s so she could sit next to Callan. He raised his eyebrows at her but she shook her head and said quietly, ‘Don’t want to be stuck between those two—they’ve spent the whole evening arguing.’

He smiled and whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t you think you might be spoiling the activities of the night by doing that?’

She gave him a wink. ‘I’m quite capable of sorting out my own activities for the night.’

He liked it. Her cheeky side that he’d only glimpsed on a few occasions. Most of the time Laurie Jenkins was obviously on her guard around him. And who could blame her? She’d walked into a weekend full of strangers. Some of whom were friendlier than others.

‘I’ll bet you are,’ he replied. If he thought about that too long his imagination would run riot.

‘Did you speak to any of your other relatives?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, and no. Mary was great. Joe from Canada was great too.’ She wiggled her hand and pointed at the name cards she’d moved. ‘I’m not so sure about Arnold and Audrey.’

Callan raised his eyebrows. ‘Were they taking pictures while they spoke to you?’

Laurie nodded and moved to the side as her dinner plate was put in front of her, the feathers in her hairclip brushing against his face. ‘Yes! And what’s that little black book they continually scribble notes in? What on earth are they up to?’

She straightened up, leaving her perfume wafting around him. Something spicy, more sensual than the floral scent she’d been wearing today. It wound its way around him, prickling his senses.

He waited until all the other guests had been served, then picked up his knife and fork, trying to clear his head. Marion had got some help this evening and things certainly appeared to be going more smoothly. Like all the food that came out of her kitchen the chicken Caesar salad looked delicious. If only he could concentrate on it.

He gave her a smile. ‘I hate to think what they’re up to. You know I caught one of them in my rooms yesterday?’

‘You’re joking? Really?’ Her mouth was hanging open. ‘What on earth were they doing?’

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t wait to find out. I just shouted at them, told them my rooms were private and showed them out.’

Laurie shook her head. ‘That’s just ridiculous.’

‘I think we should change seats.’ The interruption was brisk. Callan heard the male voice in his ear and felt the hand pressing heavily on his shoulder. He resisted his first reaction. Although Craig had obviously had a bit too much to drink again this evening, Callan’s instruction card for this evening had told him to flirt with Laurie’s character and get into an argument with Craig, or his alter ego Philippe Deveraux. He’d paid little enough attention to the Murder Mystery Weekend without trying to wreck the one small part he’d been asked to be involved in. He would give him the benefit of the doubt. For five minutes only.

He stood up. ‘I think you’ll find Ms Clark has decided she wants my attention this evening.’ He looked down at the dinner table. ‘I think you’ll also find that the entrées have already been served. Take a seat, Mr Deveraux.’

From the corner of the room he could almost see the Murder Mystery Weekend organiser clapping his hands with glee.

Craig looked momentarily confused, then obviously realised he was supposed to be in character. ‘You’ve monopolised Laurie—I mean, Ms Clark’s attention all day. It’s time to let her mix with some other company.’

Callan wondered exactly how far he was supposed to go with this. As Laurie lifted a glass of wine to her rose-red lips he had an instant spark of inspiration. Or maybe it was her scent that was still permeating his skin? Whatever it was, he reached down and pulled her to her feet.

After all, he had agreed to play along.

‘I think you’ll find Ms Clark is already spoken for, Mr Deveraux. I suggest you take your seat.’ And at that, he bent down and brushed his lips next to Laurie’s.

He felt her instantly stiffen in shock. He hadn’t given her any warning. He hadn’t given it much thought himself. He was just playing along and it seemed like the natural thing to do.