The Heir of the Castle

Chapter FIVE


LAURIE WASN’T QUITE sure why her stomach was churning, but it was. She frowned at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Red Capri pants probably weren’t the most appropriate for a cliff-side clamber but that was the trouble with travelling light. Thank goodness Marion had found her a pair of wellington boots, and they even matched her trousers.

She took a deep breath, grabbed her jacket and headed along the corridor towards the stairs. The phone in her pocket beeped and she pulled it out. Work.

Her stomach sank like a stone. Funny how a simple text could have that effect on her. A missing file. On a Saturday. She glanced at her watch. If she’d been in London right now she’d probably have been in work too. How sad was that? She couldn’t help but glance at the mysterious woman in the portrait at the top of the stairs. Was it possible that her glare was even more disapproving than normal, and even more focused on Laurie?

She wondered if this castle had any ghosts. She’d need to ask Callan about that later. She tapped out a quick reply with a number of locations for the missing file.

As she reached the bottom of the curved staircase Robin, the Murder Mystery Weekend co-ordinator, rushed over, clipboard in hand. ‘Ms Jenkins, I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning. Was something wrong?’

Yet another person with a disapproving glare. She shrugged. ‘Sorry, I was busy.’

He frowned. ‘You do realise that in order to get a good idea of who the murderer is, you have to take part in all the activities.’

She bit her tongue to stop the words rolling off that she really wanted to say. It wasn’t his fault Angus McLean had made this a stipulation of his will. This was just a guy doing a job.

She gave him her sweetest smile. ‘Some of the activities just aren’t for me.’

He looked horrified. ‘But you have to take part. You have to speak to as many of the other characters in order to build up an idea of who the murderer is.’ He eyed her haughtily. ‘And they need the opportunity to speak to you too.’

She sighed. ‘Listen, you and I know that I’m not the murderer, so it doesn’t really matter whether the other “characters”—’ she lifted her fingers in the air ‘—speak to me or not. As long as I tell you at the end who I think is the guilty party, everything will work out fine.’

‘Ms Jenkins, you’re really not entering into the spirit of things. It spoils things for all the other participants too.’

She was starting to get annoyed now, and feel a little guilty, which made her even madder. She straightened herself up to her full five feet five inches. ‘Well, I guess since the other participants are my new-found family, it’s up to me whether I want to spend time with them or not.’


She turned and strode away as best she could in the ill-fitting red wellies. Callan was leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms folded across his chest and an amused look on his face. He pulled the main door open and picked up a jacket. ‘Ready?’

There was a little spark of something in his eyes and if he said something smart right now she would take one of these wellies off and hit him over the head with it.

‘Ready.’ She barely turned her head as she walked straight out of the door and onto the gravel courtyard.

This place was driving her crazy.

She spun around, hands on her hips, and Callan nearly walked straight into her.

‘What kind of person was Angus McLean?’

He started. ‘What?’

‘What kind of person was Angus McLean? Was he some kind of sick sadist that would try and pitch his unknown relatives against each other for some kind of pleasure? Did he actually think anyone would agree to this?’ Now the words were coming out she couldn’t stop them. ‘Was he sane? Did a doctor check him over after he wrote that mad will?’

Callan hesitated for the tiniest second, then obviously thought better of getting into an unwinnable fight with an angry woman. He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her in the direction of the stairs, leading down to the impeccable gardens, fountain and maze. Her feet moved without her even really realising it, the weight of his arm behind her just making her flow along with his body. Before she knew it she was guided along to the bench in front of the trickling fountain.

Callan nudged her to sit down and she did. With a thump.

It was as if all her frustration was coming out at once.

Callan waited for a few minutes, letting them sit in silence and listen to the peaceful trickle of the fountain.

It was a beautiful setting. The bronze fairy was spouting the water from her mouth, through her hands. The water flowed down into the round pond with a mosaic bottom of blue and green tiles. The sun was high in the cloudless sky and the temperature was warm in the shelter of the lowered set of gardens.

Eventually Callan spoke, his voice deep and calm. He was leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees. ‘Angus McLean was completely sane. Frank Dalglish, the solicitor, was worried there might be a legal challenge to the will and made sure that Angus was examined by a doctor.’

‘Oh.’ Laurie’s brain was spinning, questions firing everywhere, but Callan’s voice had a real weight to it. He was completely sincere. And she realised he probably wasn’t amused at her outburst. She could smell his aftershave again, the one that seemed to play with her self-control and turn her brain to mush. Or maybe that was just the sight of his muscled arms?

‘He was no sadist. And he certainly wasn’t sick. Angus McLean was one of the best guys I’ve ever met.’ He leaned back against the bench and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. She liked it better that way. He shook his head. ‘Truth is, Laurie, I don’t understand any of this any more than you do. I spent twenty-five years around Angus McLean. I never suspected for a second that he had children. I could never understand why he wouldn’t sell me the place. He kept telling me he wanted to keep it in the family—but as far as I knew, there wasn’t any.’

He was upset. He was hurting. No matter what her thoughts were on Angus McLean she had to try and remember that this was someone who had been dear to Callan. His experience was totally different from hers.

Something registered in her brain. She looked up at the castle.

It was hard to believe but as a potential inheritor of Annick Castle she hadn’t even given a moment’s thought to how much it could actually be worth.

She gulped. The figures dancing around her brain made her mind boggle. She turned to face him. ‘How on earth could you afford to buy a place like this?’ She held up her hands. ‘I have no idea how much Annick Castle would cost, but what kind of job do you have?’

She couldn’t even begin to understand how someone could make enough money to buy Annick Castle. Her question probably seemed cheeky, but she was the kind of girl who usually said what came to mind. And she wasn’t going to stop just because she was here.

‘If I tell you will you be able to reply in one hundred and fifty characters or less?’

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. She couldn’t help it; her mouth fell open.

‘You? You own Blether?’ She couldn’t believe it. The Scottish equivalent of Twitter, with a slightly longer letter count, had started as a rival company six or seven years before. It had taken the advertising market by storm. Those ten little letters made all the difference, but still allowed short, sharp messages.

He gave a rueful smile and nodded. ‘Guilty as charged. I owned an Internet search engine before that. Blether came about almost by accident.’

She was stunned. Everyone knew exactly how successful the company was, but she’d never really heard anything about the owner. ‘How so?’

‘I was annoyed one night and came home and spouted off to Angus about it. He told me to stop bellyaching and do something about it. He challenged me to make something bigger and better.’

She shook her head. ‘And the name?’

He shrugged. ‘How could it have been anything else? Blether—the Scots word for people who talk incessantly.’ He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘You should be able to relate.’

Her reaction was automatic; she elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Cheeky.’

They sat quietly for a few more seconds as she tried to take in everything he’d just told her. He must be worth millions—no, probably billions—and here he was, sitting at Annick Castle for a crazy Murder Mystery Weekend. It just didn’t make sense.

‘So, your background is in computers, then?’

He shook his head. ‘It should be, but it isn’t. I did pure mathematics at university.’

‘You did?’

He smiled and looked up at the castle. She could see the fondness in his eyes, see the memories flit across his face. ‘I wasn’t doing too well at school before I met Angus. My father didn’t believe in homework. And as a child I had other skills that were my priority.’

Something about the way he said the words sent a chill down her spine. He hadn’t emphasised them, or been too explicit, but it was almost as if the skills he was hinting at were survival skills.

‘Once I started spending time with Angus he used to sit me down at the kitchen table at night and go over my homework with me. He was methodical—and strict. He discovered I had a natural aptitude for maths and he bought me textbooks and journals that challenged me.’

‘So you did your homework here?’ It seemed the safest question to ask, without prying too much.

‘Pretty much. Angus helped me with my exams. He even helped me fill in my application for university.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘I got into Cambridge—and Oxford, but in the end I went to Edinburgh. I didn’t want to leave Scotland.’

‘You didn’t?’ She didn’t mean to sound so surprised; it just came out that way. It hadn’t even occurred to her for a second to turn down her university place at Cambridge. Did people actually do that? And how distracted would she have been if she’d met Callan at university?

He stood up and arched his back, obviously trying to relieve some tension. ‘Look around you, Laurie. What’s not to love?’


It was the way he said the words. So simple. Without a second thought.

And she did look around her.

At the magnificent sand-coloured castle looking out over the Scottish coastline.

At the immaculate maze.

At the colourful, impeccably kept gardens.

At the forest and vegetation around them, set against the start of a mountain range.

It was almost as if something sucked the air out of her lungs.

She lived her life in London. She spent her day jumping on and off the tube, breathing in other people’s air. She was surrounded by high-rise buildings and streets that often never saw any sunlight. Continual fights over parking spaces, and eternally rising rents.

She didn’t have a single friend in London that had a garden. Her own flat had a window box that she rarely filled with flowering shrubs—on the few occasions that she had she often forgot to water them.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked on grass. How long had it been since she’d gone to Hyde Park?

‘You want me to tell you a little of the history of the place?’

She nodded. She knew absolutely nothing about Annick Castle.

Callan sat back on the bench, resting his arm along the back as she settled next to him. His arm was brushing the top of her shoulders. It was as if a whole host of butterflies were flapping their wings against her skin. ‘The castle was built originally in the fifteen-hundreds.’ There was a gleam in his eyes. ‘There’s even a rumour that Mary Queen of Scots once stayed here. It was enlarged, rebuilt and the gardens planted in the seventeen-hundreds. The Earl of Annick’s family owned the estate for years. They were connected to the Kennedy family in Scotland who can trace their ancestry back to Robert the Bruce. In later years they had connections with some of the most powerful families in America.’

‘I had no idea. So how did the castle end up in the hands of Angus McLean?’

‘There were a number of properties like this all over Scotland. Some of them were poorly maintained because of the costs involved, others just weren’t lived in all year round. In 1945 a lot of them were handed over to the National Trust in Scotland. But this one had caught the eye of Angus’s father—he owned a pharmaceutical company and was about the only person who hadn’t gone bankrupt after the Second World War. He bought the place for a song.’

Laurie let a hiss of air out through her lips. Maybe not this castle, but something had been here for five hundred years. It was amazing. All that history in one place.

She could be sitting in the same place that Mary Queen of Scots had once stood.

Callan had reached out his hand towards her and she took it without question, letting him pull her up from the bench. Warmth encapsulated her hand. There was a chilly breeze coming off the sea and part of her wished he would wrap her in his arms.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You wanted to see the grounds. Let’s go down to the swan pond.’

She followed him along the gravel path, winding past the fountain and flower beds. Small things started to prick her mind. Some of the plants here were a little wilder, a little less trimmed. The bushes weren’t quite as shaped as the ones underneath the castle windows.

‘Who looks after the grounds, Callan?’

He turned, his hand gesturing towards another set of steps. ‘Bert mostly. He has a few of the local boys who come and help him, but he generally scares them all off within a few months.’ He pointed back at the perfect green lawn. ‘Last year Angus persuaded him to let another company come in and cut the lawns and do the edging.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve no idea the fight that caused.’ There was a real affection in his voice.

She walked down the steps that were sheltered by some thick foliage. When she reached the bottom she let out a little gasp. She turned to face Callan. ‘When you said swan pond I was thinking of something much smaller.’

He gave a nod and a smile. ‘Some people don’t even know it exists. The castle grounds are sheltered and on an incline. It means that you have to walk down steps at each level.’ They walked closer to the edge of the pond. It was the size of around four football pitches and Laurie could see a few white swans bobbing in the middle.

‘What’s that over there?’ There was an elegant glass and white metal gazebo on the other side of the pond. ‘It looks as if you lifted it straight out of The Sound of Music and put it there.’

Callan nodded. ‘What if I told you it had a bench that ran all the way around the inside?’

‘Really?’ Her stomach gave a little flutter. Her mind instantly had her inside the gazebo with Callan twirling her around in his arms. The chemistry between them seemed to increase the more time she spent with him; it was getting hard not to acknowledge it. Did Callan think so too?

She wasn’t sure. He nodded and gave her a half-smile. ‘Really. It’s just coincidence. It’s more than a hundred years old. Angus’s parents had it built. The swan pond was his mother’s favourite spot, but she didn’t like sitting in the sun.’

‘It’s gorgeous. Can we go around?’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Maybe later. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.’

Laurie glanced down at her footwear. If she was going to visit the castle’s own Sound of Music gazebo she didn’t really want to do it in red wellies. It kind of spoiled the mood. ‘Okay, then, where to next?’

Callan led her up another set of steps that took them around the other side of the castle. They passed outbuildings that looked a little worse for wear. A set of unused stables and a round stone building that was almost falling down.

The stonework on this side of the castle wasn’t as clean as the front and there were a number of slates on the ground. Were they from the roof?

The round building was fascinating and she couldn’t help but go and peer through the doorway. ‘What was this?’

‘It was one of the old icehouses on the estate. They used to cut ice from the swan pond and store it here for use in the house. The old icehouses were the forerunners of refrigeration. And watch out—you probably need a hard hat to go in there.’

‘Wow. What other buildings are there?’

‘As well as the gazebo at the swan pond, there is an orangery. It was built in 1818. It was used later as a camellia house and had one-inch-thick glass, a dome top and a furnace at the back of the building to supply under-floor heating. They used to think that delicate flowers needed to be grown in hothouses. There also used to be a pagoda overlooking the swan pond, but it fell into ruins—only the foundations are left now.’

This place was truly amazing—she didn’t even know the half of it. No wonder Callan loved it so much. ‘What was that for?’

‘The lower level was the swan house and aviary with the gazebo or teahouse above. During its time the aviary housed specimens of gold and silver pheasants, pigeons of fancy varieties, kites and hunting hawk. It’s also thought that one time a monkey was housed here, giving the pagoda its local nickname of the “monkey house”.’

She shook her head. ‘I had no idea the estate was so big.’ She was also astounded at Callan’s knowledge and the way everything just tripped off his tongue. ‘Did you ever see it?’

He wrinkled his brow. ‘It was partially standing when I was a boy. There was still some glass and stone remaining. And there’s more. There are old gatehouses, a water house and a gas house all around the grounds of the estate. There’s an old dairy, a stonemason’s and another set of stables.’


Laurie had no idea about any of this. When she’d done the Internet search for Annick Castle, she’d only really looked at the pictures of the actual castle. She hadn’t read up on how big the estate was or what it contained.

They’d reached the wall again that looked out over the sea. She placed her hands on her hips and looked around her. ‘This place is just amazing.’ She sighed.

‘Yeah. It is.’ Callan had that look again, the one where he just drifted off and she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head.

She cleared her throat. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but parts of it look a little...run-down.’

He didn’t hesitate. ‘I know. You’re right. I tried to speak to Angus about it for the last few years. But I’ve got no control over what happens on the estate, and I had no right to order repairs—even though I was willing to pay for some of them myself.’

‘He didn’t want to maintain the castle?’ It sounded odd. And she couldn’t imagine why.

Callan leaned back against the wall. ‘He just grew old—and stubborn. And he wouldn’t let me help him with his finances.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I was worried he didn’t actually have any money left. He still had his faculties but his decision-making processes, well—they just seemed to disintegrate.’

‘And yet he still managed to make the strangest will in the world?’

‘There’s no cure for old age, Laurie.’ He gave a nod towards the next set of steps. ‘Come on. Let’s put those wellies to good use.’

He removed a thin piece of rope closing off the steps and started down them. Laurie made to follow and stopped dead. It wasn’t a traditional set of steps. They were precarious, cut into the cliff side with only a thread rope as a handhold. At places they looked almost vertical.

Callan moved down them easily, sure-footed without a second’s hesitation. He made it look easy.

Except it was far from easy.

‘Come on,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘If you fall you’ll only land on me.’

Part of his confidence annoyed her—which was silly. He’d lived here for a good part of his life. He could probably go down these steps with his eyes shut.

Venturing down them in a pair of somebody else’s ill-fitting wellies was an entirely different story. In some ways she might have taken great pleasure in landing squarely between his shoulders. In another, despite his bravado, it was likely they would both tumble down the cliff face and land in the rocks below. Quite frankly, she wasn’t that brave.

She took her time as she edged down the steps, shouting down to Callan in an attempt to appear casual, ‘You never told me, how did you end up going from pure mathematics to computers?’

He was so far beneath her now. The noise from the crashing waves below almost drowned out his reply. ‘Boredom, or luck, I guess.’

She took the next few steps a little quicker. She was becoming more sure-footed, the thin rope slipping easily through her fingers. She knew her brow was wrinkled as she took the last few steps towards him. ‘I don’t get it. Boredom? Whoops—’

The last few steps were slicked with moss and lichens, the thick soles of the wellies having hardly any grip at all. His hands planted firmly on her hip bones, stopping her from losing her balance completely.

She was one step above him, meaning they were almost face-to-face.

If the breath hadn’t exited her lungs so quickly she might have smiled. The view was good here.

Any woman would tell you that from first glance Callan McGregor was a fine figure of a man. But this close she could see everything—his slightly tanned, slightly weathered skin. The smattering of tiny freckles across his nose. Her hands had lifted to stop her falling and were now naturally placed on the breadth of his chest. After a few seconds she could feel the heat from his skin seeping through his cotton shirt onto the palms of her hands.

She should move them. She really should. But right now they felt superglued to his chest.

She caught her breath. ‘Boredom?’ she asked softly.

They were so close now the crashing waves were merely background noise. He hadn’t moved his hands; they were still firmly on her hips, steering her closer to him.

He blinked. If he’d been any closer those long eyelashes of his might have brushed her cheek. She shouldn’t feel so comfortable. Under normal circumstances she would have jumped back, hating her personal space being invaded without her say-so.

But nothing about this weekend had been normal. Why change anything now?

From this position she had a real clear view of his green eyes. Bright green eyes. Unlike any she’d seen before. There was nothing pale or wishy-washy about them. She’d seen an emerald this green once before on the jewellery shopping channel. Was it from Colombia? It had been three carats, with a single carat diamond on either side. Probably the most gorgeous ring she’d ever seen and well out of her price range. Funny how the billionaire’s eyes reminded her of that.

He tilted his head to one side. ‘Just because I had a natural talent for maths didn’t mean I had to spend my life doing it.’

He said it as if it made perfect sense.

A gust of wind swept past her, pushing her even closer to him. Every hair on her arms stood on end. But it wasn’t the wind. It was him. His touch. And his words. Doing a whole host of strange things to her.

It was more than unsettling. She tried to pull her tongue down from its current position of sticking to the roof of her mouth. It wasn’t often in this life that Laurie found it difficult to talk.

‘But what did Angus say? Didn’t he tell you to find a career related to your degree?’ She’d already realised there was no point asking what his father thought. He hadn’t even mentioned his mother at all. And she couldn’t ask the question that was throbbing in her head right now: What would my father have thought if I’d walked away from law? Because neither Callan nor she would know the answer.

Callan smiled. A smile that reached right up into those green eyes. Little wrinkles appeared around them. Good wrinkles. He looked so much better when he smiled rather than the permanent frown that had been on his face since she’d met him.

‘Angus would never have told me to do something that made me unhappy. I’d completed my degree. It was up to me to find my place in life.’

He said the words so easily. As if it was the way it should be for everyone and she felt her stomach twist in tight knots.

Why couldn’t she have said something like that to her father? Only hers hadn’t been an ordinary kind of degree. What else could you do with a law degree if you didn’t practise law? Sure, there were some students in her class who hadn’t gone on to complete their professional qualifications after sitting their exams. They’d moved into other professions.

But she wasn’t exactly sure what. Truth was, she’d been too scared to pay too much attention to any other options. It had almost been easier to work on the assumption that there was none. She would never have disappointed her father. She just couldn’t have.

Horrible things were jumping around in her mind. What would have happened if she’d told her father that she didn’t like her degree? What would have happened if he’d still been alive and she’d told him she hated her job? She could feel tears prickling in the backs of her eyes. All of a sudden she felt cold. Really cold. Did this make her a coward?


‘Laurie?’ Callan’s voice was quiet; she could feel his warm breath on her cheek, see his eyes full of concern.

‘But what if you can’t find your place in life?’ she whispered. Or, you’re too scared to.

She was going to cry, any second now she was going to burst into tears, on the edge of the Scottish coastline with a virtual stranger.

Callan didn’t say a word. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to his side, and guided her down the last few steps onto the thin line of shingle beach. Judging from the moss and lichen on the shingles, this part of the coastline must regularly be underwater.

The warmth from his body was comforting. The feel of the arm around her shoulder was reassuring—protective almost. He hadn’t asked her any questions. It was almost as if he knew she was upset and he sensed not to push her.

They walked a few hundred yards along the coastline and he stopped at the rock face. ‘Look,’ he said, his mouth brushing against her ear.

She lifted her head. Carved into the rocks in front of her were three arches—as if someone had tried to create a house out of one of the natural caves. The arches were on three levels, almost as if it had been someone’s home.

‘What on earth is this?’ It was a perfect distraction. So unusual, and so mysterious that she couldn’t help but ask the question and push the other heavy thoughts from her mind.

‘Welcome to the history of Annick Castle. This part of the coast was a notorious centre for smuggling and the fortified caves beneath the castle were ideal for hiding contraband from the Revenue Officers. For centuries the Annick Kennedys and others on the estate were either directly involved in smuggling, or turned a blind eye to it, in exchange for a share of the profits.’

‘No.’ Laurie felt her eyes grow wide. ‘Really?’ This was fascinating to her. A whole part of her family history she knew nothing about. ‘So, you’re telling me my relatives were involved in smuggling?’

Callan smiled as they entered the cave. ‘It seems that way. This was all long before Angus’s time, but it is amazing, isn’t it? And it’s part of the heritage of Annick Castle.’

He sounded a little wistful as he said those words. They stood for a moment in the cave. It wasn’t quite as dark as she’d thought, the carved windows letting in lots of light. It was damp and slimy, with the water lapping around her wellies. There was a ledge high above her at the second window.

Laurie pointed. ‘I take it the contraband had to be moved up there at high tide?’

Callan shrugged. ‘I would assume so.’ He walked over and touched one of the walls. ‘Just imagine if these walls could talk. What do you think they would tell us?’

She walked over and laid her hand on the damp, cold wall next to his. ‘How many of those smugglers died on the rocks out there? This doesn’t look like the easiest bit of coast to navigate—not that I know anything about sailing.’

Callan nodded. ‘That’s a good point. This is a pretty treacherous part of the coast. Even today, sailing around here isn’t really encouraged. I can remember a few wrecks over the years.’ He gave a little smile. ‘When I was a young boy I spent most of my time down here fighting imaginary pirates.’

She could almost imagine him dressed up with a pretend sword, swooping in and out of the atmospheric cave. ‘Was it safe to play down here?’

He laughed. ‘I take it these days it would need a whole health and safety check before anyone set foot on those steps. But when I was young Angus could always tell me the tide tables. As long as it wasn’t high tide, I was allowed to come and play.’ He gave her a measured look. ‘Do you think you would have come and joined me?’

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.