The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) (21 page)

Those were exactly the words that Laura had once said to Kristin.
“Spread your wings and start fresh. Bring your vision here.”

Kristin put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Laura,” she whispered.

Back then, Jay’s wife had hired Kristin and welcomed her into the Aura Botanicals family when she’d come back home from New York. She’d felt so shaken and beaten down, needing a job and a place to go where people believed in her, because Kristin wasn’t sure she believed in herself anymore.

Kristin’s eyes stung again. She blinked the moisture away. But she was failing; the waterworks were gathering anyway. She couldn’t stop it....

A sob escaped from her. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Through blurred vision, she saw Malcolm peer at her. Saw him bring her close to him in an embrace.

His shirt was smooth and warm against her cheek, and he smelled comforting, like laundry soap and Malcolm. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, the sobs catching her unaware, her chest heaving in and out in a staccato rhythm.

“It’s all right,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back. “Shh, Kristy, I understand.”

Turning her head toward the hall window, she could see workers on the floor below them, gazing up at them and obviously observing them quite clearly, ogling the show.

Surely, the workers all knew Malcolm. Surely they were intensely curious about this—on the surface—most inappropriate display of emotion and affection in the workplace.

Abruptly she jerked away from his embrace. “I’m sorry, Malcolm, I can’t do this. I need to go home.”

His expression looked crushed. “All right,” he said. He stepped back and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll help you book a plane ticket tonight.”

“No,” she clarified. “What I mean is, I want to go back to your castle now. Maybe...Rhiannon is home.”

Malcolm laughed, a short, dry laugh. “Of course she’s home.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I mean, yes, of course I’ll drive you. Just wait here a minute while I reschedule my meeting.”

“You don’t have to change your schedule on my account,” she said. “I’ll...drive myself.”

“Absolutely not.” His mouth turned hard. “I’ll drop you off to find Rhiannon, and then I’ll come back here and do what I need to do. That’s what
I
want. There are two of us in this mess, Kristin. You’re not the only one.”

* * *

T
WENTY
MINUTES
LATER
, Kristin watched Malcolm drive away. The silver sedan sped up the long, winding driveway toward the guardhouse and then turned onto the main road headed back toward Byrne Glennie.

She felt numb inside. Shocked and upset with herself. Malcolm had barely said a word to her during the drive back. He’d seemed angry, lost in his thoughts, and she’d had no idea what to say to him, either.

Slumping, she turned and wandered back to the great room. Paul, the butler, must have laid the fire that glowed warm in the hearth grate. Kristin pulled up a stool and sat before it, warming herself, trying to keep from shivering to her bones.

The front door slammed, and Rhiannon breezed inside, bringing the clear, fresh air of the Highlands along with her, as well as Molly, Mrs. MacDowall’s energetic golden retriever.

“Kristy,” Rhiannon said, smiling, “I’m glad you’re here.” She pulled up another stool and settled in beside Kristin.

“I’m glad you’re here, too. I’m having a really bad day.”

“Maybe this will cheer you up. Smell my hair.” Rhiannon fanned her long dark hair, the same color as Malcolm’s, and held a section before Kristin’s nose. “Can you tell I used your shampoo?”

“Born in Vermont,” Kristin murmured, her heart sinking. “I would know that scent anywhere.”

“Do you have any more?” Rhiannon asked.

She did, but...she’d been hoping to save it to convince Malcolm. But now it probably didn’t matter.

“Would you like some hand cream?” Kristin asked. “I brought some of that, too.”

“May I try it?”

Kristin smiled at her. “Are you sure you’re not just saying this to cheer me up? Because I really do need cheering up right now.”

Rhiannon grinned at Kristin, hooking her arm. “Okay, what did my brother do?”

“Nothing. What makes you think Malcolm did anything?”

“Because you’re upset.”

I’m upset with myself,
Kristin thought, sighing. “Can you do me a huge favor?” She clasped her hands together. “
Please
come shopping with me. I need to get away and forget everything for a few hours.”

“No, I’m sorry, but I really can’t,” Rhiannon said.

She did look sorry, and she probably had a painting to finish. Kristin nodded, understanding completely. “That’s okay. It’s not as if I know how to drive a stick shift, anyway.” She made a short laugh.

Rhiannon regarded her. “Do you want to learn how? Because I can teach you. Colin has been giving me lessons.”

“Colin?”

“My bodyguard,” Rhiannon whispered behind her hand. She winked at Kristin. “Just don’t tell Malcolm. You know how he’ll react.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, I’d like to keep it private from everybody. It’s still rather new for me.”

How...lovely, Kristin thought. Malcolm’s reclusive sister had found love. Smiling to herself, following along after Rhiannon, the two of them went outside and piled into Kristin’s little white rental car.

With Rhiannon in the driver’s seat and Kristin beside her, Rhiannon showed her how to press the clutch pedal in order to move the stick shift. Then she showed her how to balance the gas pedal with the clutch pedal.

Then they got out and switched seats, and Kristin faced the long, oval drive that ran along the front of the castle.

“You’d better buckle up,” she only half joked to Rhiannon.

“Don’t worry. I was terrible when I first learned. Just try your best, that’s all you can do.”

Kristin held her breath and took Rhiannon’s advice. At first, they had a bumpy ride, there was no doubt about that, though there was much giggling over it.

But after a few laps around the oval, Kristin started to get the feel of it.

“Okay, time to advance to the hill,” Rhiannon said, and pointed up the drive toward the guardhouse.

“Are you
sure
you don’t want to go into town with me?” Kristin asked as the tiny car puttered toward the main road.

“No,” Rhiannon insisted. “Here, you can turn around at the guardhouse.” She waved at the man on duty.

Kristin turned to stare, but the guard waving back at them had white hair and looked old enough to be Rhiannon’s grandfather.

“Is that Colin?” Kristin asked cautiously.

Rhiannon burst into laughter. “No! Certainly not!”

Kristin giggled, too. She was feeling enough at ease with Rhiannon that it didn’t seem too inquisitive to ask. “Why won’t you leave the property?”

“I just don’t want to.” Rhiannon shrugged. “Agoraphobia, I suppose. Have you heard of it?” she asked, her tone matter-of-fact. “It’s likely an aftereffect of the kidnapping.”

“Of Malcolm’s kidnapping?”

Rhiannon leaned her head close to Kristin’s. “We were kidnapped together, Malcolm and I.”

“You...you were kidnapped, too?” Kristin was sure her mouth had dropped open. “At the same time Malcolm was?”

“I assumed you knew.”

“No.” Kristin shook her head. “Malcolm told me that he was abducted, but he didn’t say you were with him....” She let her words trail off, feeling helpless.

“I’m not surprised that he didn’t say anything,” Rhiannon said gently. “Malcolm feels responsible for me. I tell him not to, because he isn’t, of course. But you know my brother.”

Always so interested in safety. Always so hypervigilant with maintaining knowledge and control of everything going on around him.

“It does explain a lot of things about him,” Kristin said slowly.

“Yes, it does,” Rhiannon agreed.

“Thank you for telling me,” Kristin said quietly.

“Enough of that.” Rhiannon waved her hand. Kristin had noticed that Rhiannon liked to keep things as light as possible, which Kristin completely understood and respected—she preferred to do the same thing, herself. “Will you be staying for the wedding on Friday?” Rhiannon asked. “I hope so. I really do.”

With that one question, Kristin felt as if she’d been centered and grounded. She needed to focus on the future, specifically, the rest of her week.

Whatever had happened between Malcolm and her, she needed to remember Born in Vermont. She needed to take care of what she’d come to Scotland to do.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you want, you know,” Rhiannon said. “We don’t stand much on formal ceremony here. In fact, I talked with my parents, and we would like you to attend the wedding, if you feel comfortable doing so. Then, for the reception, we’re having a Ceilidh band come to play. Do you know what that is?”

Rhiannon pronounced it “kay-lee.” Kristin had heard of the term. “Does that mean Celtic music and dancing?”

“It’s Gaelic dancing. But, yes, I can teach you some of the jigs and reels if you don’t know them. It’s fun to watch. The band brings a ‘caller’ with them, and everyone dances. Some of my cousins are a raucous bunch, but don’t let that worry you. Malcolm is quite polite. He’s really a good dancer.”

Malcolm, dancing? The vision brought a smile to her lips. She thought of what he’d told her about owning a kilt. “Oh, my gosh, if I do go to the wedding, then I’ll get to see him in his kilt.”

“Yes, you will.”

But that brought up a new worry. “What do women wear to a Scottish wedding?”

“Nothing fancy. Most will be in regular cocktail dresses. Mum plans to wear a skirt and jacket.”

“I didn’t bring anything suitable,” Kristin said. “Maybe it’s best that I leave before then.”

Not only did it seem inappropriate for her—Kristin didn’t know the bride or the groom, nor the family very well—but today she had also effectively cut off whatever friendship or goodwill she’d been building with Malcolm.

“If you change your mind,” Rhiannon said, “let me know, and I’ll help you. With whatever you need.”

* * *

A
FTER
K
RISTIN
DROPPED
Rhiannon at the house, she aimed her car up the gravel drive and used the stick shift as best as she could to drive the route into nearby Inverness.

It was a fairly large town, with many traffic lights and roundabouts. Kristin felt overwhelmed and afraid at first, but after she’d made a few mistakes, she realized that nothing disastrous was going to happen, and she even started laughing at herself.

Finally, she stumbled—quite by accident—across the shopping district Rhiannon had mentioned. Kristin followed the blue P signs to a public parking space, paid her coins at the central meter, stuck her ticket on the dashboard and strolled into town.

She felt better just stretching her legs and walking past the shop windows. In one boutique, she impulsively tried on and then purchased a pretty, mauve-colored blouse made of satiny material, with short cap sleeves, a deep V-neck and a sash that tied around her waist. It was now officially the sexiest top she owned.

Usually, Kristin dressed conservatively; this was something entirely new for her. But maybe there was something about learning to drive a stick shift—and in a busy town center—that warranted celebration.

Later that evening, Kristin borrowed a tablet computer from Rhiannon so she could make a video call to her sister-in-law. Kristin timed the call for the midafternoon lull between lunch and dinner at Cookie’s Place. Kristin hadn’t checked in with Stephanie since she’d arrived in Scotland, and just in case word had filtered back from Arlene that Kristin had abandoned her prepaid British Isles tour, she really should make sure that her family wasn’t worried about her. Kristin hadn’t wanted to think about what they were going through—the grief and worry over losing the Aura factory—but now, she was ready.

Stephanie picked up after only two rings. “Kristin! We’ve been thinking about you. How’s your adventure going?”

“Hi, Aunty!” Lily piped in. On the screen, Kristin could just make out the top of Lily’s auburn curls. “Where are you?”

Kristin blinked back the burning in her eyes. It was so good to see them. She took the tablet computer and curled into a comfortable, worn leather chair near the alcove window in her guest room. From this position, she could see over the back gardens and down the hill to the glen spread out below, like a beautiful panorama.

“Let me show you,” she said to Lily. She turned the tablet so Lily could see the view out her window. “I’m in Scotland.”

Lily giggled and covered her mouth with her little hands.
Wow,
did Kristin miss her family.

“Here is my room.” Kristin positioned the tablet so Lily could see Kristin’s bed. “I’m actually in a castle right now. What do you think?”

“Are there knights in shining armor?” Lily asked.

That was too difficult a question to answer at the moment. Kristin put her hand to her throat. “When I’m done talking with your mom, I can take the computer with me and go on a walk through the castle. I’ll show you the stone floors and the high ceilings and the big room where there’s going to be a fancy wedding celebration.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Stephanie whispered into her computer’s microphone. “You really did find a castle.”

“Is everything okay there, Steph?” Kristin murmured. “I’ve been so worried, and I have so much to tell you.”

“So do I,” Stephanie said. “Wait, hang on a second.” Her head disappeared from Kristin’s screen, and Kristin instead saw the view inside Cookie’s Place from behind the cash register. In the background, she heard muffled conversation and an Abba song—“Dancing Queen”—playing from the overhead radio.

So like Stephanie. The everyday reminder just made her feel more homesick.

Stephanie came into sight again. She had a pencil behind her ear, and she was eating what looked to be a peanut butter cookie this time. “Sorry, I needed to get Lily settled with her coloring book.” She sighed. “It’s spring vacation week. No school for the kids.”

“I forgot about that,” Kristin said.