The Heir of the Castle

For the first time this weekend he actually paused to think. Maybe he should play nice?

He squinted at the name on his card. He hadn’t paid attention to any of the instructions about the Murder Mystery Weekend. ‘It appears I’m Bartholomew Grant, thirty-three, a stock-market trader.’

A cheeky smile appeared on her face along with the tiniest flush of red. ‘Hmm...Bartholomew Grant. Well, whaddya know? I believe you’re one of my two adoring men.’ She gave a little wave of her hand. ‘Here’s hoping you can play the part, Callan.’

The feather was bobbing in the wind. The shimmering red glass beads picking up the soft lights from the open doors of the drawing room. She hadn’t donned a short bob wig in keeping with the time; instead she’d left her long brown curls snaking around her shoulders.

She was watching him through her dark lashes with her big brown eyes. His eyes dropped automatically to her left hand. He couldn’t see anything through the satin gloves. No telltale lumps with giant diamonds. Surely a successful woman like Laurie must be attached?

She leaned forward again, this time the round neck of her dress gaping and giving a little glimpse of cleavage.

He blinked. What was he doing? Why was his brain even going there? He had far too much to think about this weekend. The last thing he needed was to get distracted by someone he’d never see again.

‘Do you think you can play the part, Callan? Or is it all just too much for you?’ Her voice was low and husky. She tilted her head to one side. ‘Do you even know how to play nice?’

The words made him start. In another world Laurie Jenkins could be quite mesmerising. But he wasn’t the kind of guy to fall for a coy smile and the flutter of some eyelashes.

‘Maybe I just like to pick my play friends carefully,’ he shot back.

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Well, that’s a shame. You’re the only person around here who looked as if they might be capable of holding a normal conversation. I couldn’t get a word in edgeways with the Americans, the Canadians were too busy Googling antiques, and—’ she flung her hands up ‘—the two people that I think are my aunt and uncle from other parts of England have spent the last hour dozing on one of the sofas in the drawing room.’

He couldn’t help but smile. He’d already figured out she wanted to meet her family, but it seemed nothing was going to plan. He reached out his hand and grabbed hers, leading her over to a bench near the entrance to the maze and pulling her down next to him.

‘What did you think was going to happen this weekend, Laurie?’

He could see her take a deep breath as she glanced around them. The splendour of the castle was behind them and even though the grounds weren’t officially lit, the smooth front lawn, maze and rose garden were impressive to say the least. And she had no idea that just beyond that copse of trees lay a swan pond with slightly untrimmed foliage. She really had no idea about this place at all. She shrugged her shoulders, ‘I thought this would be a chance to meet some family. There’s only me and my mum now, and she lives in Portugal.’ She gave a little shake of her head. ‘She really couldn’t cope when my dad died.’ Her eyes had lowered and he resisted the temptation to reach over and squeeze her hand. But her fingers had already moved, automatically going to her throat and catching the gold locket around her neck.

He might not know her, but the pain on her face was real. She’d clearly adored her father.

She lifted her head, turned and stared up at the castle. ‘I have no idea what my dad would have made of all this.’ Her eyes were shimmering now with unshed tears. ‘He so wanted to know about his father. His mum just wouldn’t tell him anything.’ She lifted her hand and held it out. ‘This would have fascinated him, and the thought that he had other brothers and sisters scattered around the world...’ She let out a sigh and shook her head. ‘That would have blown his mind.’

Callan shifted uncomfortably on the seat. All of a sudden his reaction earlier seemed a bit snappy.

Now he understood a little of what she’d said. It seemed odd to him that Angus had never acknowledged the fact he had children. How must it seem to the newly acquired relatives? To know that Angus had provided for them in his will, but never acknowledged their existence?

He’d been so wound up with how he was feeling he hadn’t given much thought to anyone else.

‘I had no idea that Angus had children. He never mentioned it. Never mentioned it at all.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘It just doesn’t seem like him at all. The Angus McLean I knew had the biggest heart in the world.’

‘How did you know Angus? You seem a bit young to have been friends.’ Her brow was furrowed, as if she was trying to sort out in her head where Callan fitted into all this.

He chose his words carefully. Her question wasn’t unexpected. ‘Angus helped me out when I was younger. And friends—that’s exactly what we were. He was one of the best friends I had.’

‘And you stay here—in the castle?’ He could almost see the questions spinning around in her head.

‘Not exactly. I live in Edinburgh most of the time. I have a house there. But I’ve always had a room here with Angus. He needed a bit more help in the last few years.’

There was so much more she clearly wanted to ask. He could almost sense her biting her tongue. Instead her eyes fixed on the maze and gardens in front of them.

‘Do you know much about the estate?’

The words sent his hackles up. He tried not to let it show, but every question he’d more or less been asked by the relatives in the last twelve hours had revolved around money. He found it impossible not to grit his teeth. ‘I know every field, every tree, every fence and every stream. I’ve been in and around Annick Castle since I was a young boy.’

But Laurie hadn’t noticed his tension; she was lost in a world of her own. ‘Lucky you.’ There was a wistful tone in her voice as she leaned back on the bench and looked up at the elegant façade of the castle. She sighed. ‘This would have been my dream when I was a little girl, living in a place like this.’ She held out her hand. ‘I can only imagine what it must be like to play in a maze like this every day or to run up and down those fairy-princess stairs.’ She gave him a mischievous smile. ‘Go on, tell me. Did you ever slide down those banisters?’

He could feel his natural protective instincts kick in. Did he really want to tell her that he and Angus had regularly had competitions to see who was the fastest sliding down either side?

All of a sudden this was personal. These were his personal memories of his time here with Angus McLean. And he didn’t want to share them.

He didn’t want any of these people staying here. He really just wanted them all to leave. The piece of paper in his hand crumpled under his grip.

She was puzzling him. She wasn’t talking about money. She was talking about people and family. But maybe she was just cleverer than the rest? And what was more she was persistent. ‘Or did Angus forbid you from doing things like that?’

The words jolted him. Jolted him from a whole host of memories that flooded his brain. Diving in the swan pond, trying to build a raft to sail across it, swinging from the rope swings that he’d made amongst the trees. Angus wasn’t the kind to forbid him anything. He lifted his heavy eyelids and caught her staring at him with those big brown eyes. ‘Only if he caught me,’ he said quietly.

The moment passed just as quickly as it appeared. ‘Shouldn’t we be going?’ He stood up. ‘You’ve got a Murder Mystery to solve.’

‘Oh, that.’ She stood up, her dress catching the light again. ‘I’d almost forgotten about that.’

How could she forget about that? It was the key to owning this castle. Surely it should be the first thing on her mind.

He led her towards the open doors to the drawing room. ‘Let’s get this over with.’ She sighed, then turned around. Her hand reached up and rested on his chest. ‘Callan, tomorrow, will you show me around the grounds of Annick Castle? I’m only here for the weekend and I’d like to see as much as I can.’

His immediate response caught in his throat, because his immediate response was to say no.

The last thing he wanted was to be the genial host, showing everyone around the castle he considered a home.

But Laurie seemed a little more measured than the rest. A little more interested in the history of the castle as a whole.

Her hand was still resting on his chest, almost burning a hole through the thin cotton of his shirt. She bit her lip. ‘I was also wondering if I could see some pictures of Angus. See what he looked like.’ Her eyes drifted off... ‘I kind of wonder if my dad looked like him at all...’ then came back to meet his ‘...or if I do.’

The hairs were standing up at the back of his neck—and it wasn’t the cool evening breeze. It was her. And the effect she was having on him.

Had anyone else asked to see pictures of Angus? He couldn’t remember, but they must have—surely? If someone told him he’d a long-lost relative the first thing he’d want to do would be see what they looked like.

He gave a little nod. ‘I know where some of the family pictures are kept. Leave it with me. I’ll let you see them tomorrow.’

She gave a nervous kind of smile. ‘Thank you, Callan. That will be nice. And the tour?’

Her big brown eyes were fixed right on him. She obviously wasn’t going to let this go.

He wanted to say no. He really did. But how could he?

He could almost hear Angus’s voice in his ear. Show them around, make them fall in love with the place as much as we did.

‘Fine. I’ll meet you just after breakfast.’

She gave a little nod of her head. ‘Thanks.’

He gestured towards the dining room. ‘You better go on. I’ll be a few minutes getting changed.’ He turned and walked off along the corridor.

Dinner with the twelve potential inheritors of Annick Castle.

He really couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE TIME Laurie reached the dining room most of the other guests were already seated. It seemed there was no opportunity to pick your own seat. The calligraphy from the character envelopes had been carried on to the name cards on the table.

She gave a little sigh as she sat down. Her character was between both men she was apparently seeing, which meant that Callan would be next to her again.

A man around twenty years older than her sat down on her right at the Philippe Deveraux card. She tried not to smile. In real life he wasn’t exactly her taste, but she held out her hand politely. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ She nodded at her card. ‘I’m Lucy Clark, but I’m really Laurie from London. My father was one of Angus McLean’s children.’

Her companion smiled. ‘Then that makes you my niece. I’m Craig Fulton. From what I can gather, I think I am the youngest of Angus McLean’s children.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘And I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with dating my niece.’

Laurie felt a wave of relief rush over her. Thank goodness. This could have been awkward.

‘What do you do in London, Laurie?’

‘I’m a lawyer.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Well, that will come in handy with all these shenanigans. Is this even legal?’

She shook her head. ‘Scottish law and English law can differ. I’m just as in the dark as you are.’

The chair next to her was pulled out and Callan sat down beside her. He’d changed into a hunting-style jacket, obviously in keeping with the style of the evening.

But Craig persisted. ‘But you must know something?’

He was making her uncomfortable. ‘Actually, I don’t. This isn’t my area of expertise. I practise employment, partnership and discrimination law.’

Craig threw up his hands. ‘What use is that to anyone?’

Now he’d really annoyed her. And it was clear that Callan was about to intervene, but she lifted her hand and laid it on his jacket sleeve to stop him. She smiled sweetly at Craig and spoke quietly. ‘Why don’t you ask my last client? I won him an award of half a million pounds.’

Craig choked on the wine he was currently necking down at a rate of knots. Leaving his neighbour on the other side sharply hitting his back for him.

Callan shot her a smile. ‘Touché,’ he whispered.

She smiled. ‘I’m nobody’s shrinking violet...’ she leaned forward to whisper in his ear ‘...and I hate anyone implying otherwise.’

Callan lifted his glass. ‘I’ll remember that.’

The food appeared moments later, all served by a harassed-looking Marion and a young girl who looked too terrified to speak.

Everything was beautiful. From the chicken liver pâté, to the chicken breast stuffed with haggis. All accompanied by copious amounts of free-flowing wine.

After such a long journey Laurie could feel the wine go straight to her head and stopped after the second glass.

The doors to the garden had been left wide open, and, instead of feeling cold, Laurie found herself appreciating the clean sea air that circulated around them. It was the first time in for ever she could remember having a clear head. Sure, if she’d drunk much more wine it could have made her wobbly, but for the first time in months she didn’t feel at her muggiest, with a persistent headache thumping in the background.

She tried to remember when the headache had actually left her. It had been there so frequently she couldn’t recall. She really should get out of the city more. Was it on the steam railway that she’d finally felt her head clear? Maybe there was a lot to be said about highland views and sea breezes.

It didn’t matter that the air in the room was fraught with tension. It didn’t matter that she was lost amongst a sea of relatives, some of whom she wasn’t sure she even liked. It didn’t even matter to her that Callan was constantly prickly around her.

This was the first time, in a long time, she finally felt relaxed. Her body almost didn’t recognise the signs. What she really wanted to do right now was climb the curved staircase, open her bedroom window to the sea air and slip under the covers of that comfortable-looking double bed.

She almost didn’t care about the inheritance aspect of the journey.

Almost.

Because from the moment she’d set foot in this place she’d loved it.

It made her toes tingle. It made her breath catch in her throat. It made the tiny little hairs on her arms stand on end.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine the fabulous history of a place like this. And all she wanted to do was drink it in.

And if that meant having to play nice with Mr Callan McGregor, then she would. Because he seemed to be the only person who could tell her what she wanted to know.

The dinner passed by in a flash, then Frank the solicitor appeared again and ushered them all into the drawing room.

Laurie almost let out a sigh. It was after nine o’clock at night and after a long day’s travel she really just wanted to go to sleep.

She’d tried to speak to Frank earlier but it had been very apparent he didn’t want to be seen in discussion with her. Maybe he was worried he would get accused of showing her favour because she was a fellow professional? All she’d wanted to ask him was a little about Angus McLean. But it wasn’t to be.

Frank read out a list of rules about the Murder Mystery Weekend, about them staying in character and when they would be expected to meet. He also introduced some people from the company running the weekend’s activities: Ashley, a blonde woman in a pale pink 1920s dress, Robin, a dark-haired man dressed in hunting regalia and John, who was dressed as a butler.

Tea and coffee were provided on a table at the side and Laurie made her way over to grab a cup. The rest of the guests were told to mingle and familiarise themselves with each other. As she poured the coffee into one of the pale blue china cups another one was slid alongside.

‘Pour me one too, would you? I’m going to fall asleep in here. Playing nice doesn’t agree with me.’

Laurie smiled at Callan’s voice. ‘You and me both. I had no idea I’d be so tired after the journey. All I want to do right now is go to bed.’

Should she have said that out loud? There was kind of an amused glint in Callan’s eyes. For a second she felt a flare of panic. What did he think she meant? For a horrible moment she thought he might have taken it as an invitation. The colour started to flood into her cheeks, and she did what she always did when she was embarrassed—she babbled.

‘It’s such a long journey up by train. The steam locomotive was fabulous, I wouldn’t have missed the gorgeous scenery for anything, but when it gets to this time at night, and especially after that beautiful dinner, I just want to go and lie down. Alone—I mean,’ she added hastily.

But Callan was laughing and shaking his head. It was obvious he’d picked up on her anxiety.

She said the first thing that came into her head. ‘What about you, Callan? Is there a Mrs McGregor to go home to?’

Had she actually just said that out loud? Please let the ground open up and swallow her whole. Wine and tiredness obviously weren’t a good mix for her.

Callan shook his head, and was it her imagination or did he just glance at her left hand?

‘No. There’s no Mrs McGregor. I’ve been a bit of a workaholic these last few years.’

‘And any mini McGregors?’ In for a penny, in for a pound. It seemed prudent to ask, particularly after what had been learned about Angus McLean in the last few weeks.

There was no hesitation. He shook his head. ‘I can assure you, if I had any kids they would be permanently attached to my hip.’

There was no mistaking that answer. Callan McGregor would never do what Angus McLean had—whatever his reasons might have been.

‘What about you, Laurie? Are you like your character—do you have more than one attachment?’ There was a cheeky glint in his eyes as he asked the question.

Laurie rolled her eyes. ‘I should be so lucky. I don’t have enough hours in the day for myself let alone anyone else. Do you know, I think this is the first time I haven’t had a headache in months.’

He leaned forward. ‘It’s all this good Scots air. It does wonders for your health.’ For a second, her breath was caught in her throat as the aroma of his woody aftershave invaded her senses. It was delicious.

She gathered herself and smiled. ‘Yeah, but it’s making me exceedingly tired.’

‘You mean you don’t want to go and play nice with the relatives?’

Laurie took a deep breath. She knew the correct answer to this question, but it just couldn’t form on her lips. She gave a little shrug. ‘Yes, yes, I do. But right now I’m just too tired to care.’ She looked over to the middle of the room where they were all currently holding court, talking—no, shouting—at the tops of their voices.

She gestured over to the other side of the room. ‘The person I’d really like to sit down with at some point is Mary from Ireland. She’ll have been my father’s half-sister. And she looks really like him. I’d like to get a chance to talk properly to her.’

The lights flickered out and the room was plunged into darkness, followed by a theatrical scream. And even though she should have half expected it, it really did make her jump.

Callan’s arm slid around her waist. Even though she couldn’t see a thing, she could sense him leaning closer to her. And it was her natural instinct to move a little closer to him. ‘You okay, Laurie?’ His warm breath tickled her cheek. More of the aftershave. It was scrambling her senses and rapidly turning into her new favourite smell.

She clutched the cup in her hands. Her hands had started to tremble. The last thing she wanted to do was shatter some priceless china on the parquet flooring. ‘Yes, thanks,’ she whispered.

‘I’m sure this will all be over in a second...’ his voice was low, the curls around her ear vibrating with his tone ‘...and hopefully then we can all get off to bed.’

The words sent a shiver down her spine. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something she hadn’t had time to feel in a long time.

The realisation was startling.

She’d only been here one evening and everything about this place was surprising her.

She’d yet to feel a connection to any of her relatives—the one thing she would actually have liked.

But she couldn’t get over the connection and tingle she’d felt to this place from the moment she’d stepped inside. She was under no illusion that Annick Castle would actually ever be hers. But she hadn’t expected the place to take her breath away. She hadn’t expected to get the tiniest sensation of belonging from just looking out of a window across an ocean.

None of that made any sense.

But what made even less sense was the man standing next to her, and the fact her skin was on fire beneath his fingertips. She didn’t even know him. She wasn’t sure if she even liked him. He was grumpy. He was prickly.

But something made her feel as if Callan McGregor was the one true person about here she could trust.

Then there was the fact she knew he was single. It seemed to have made her stomach do dangerous somersaults.

And he seemed fiercely loyal to a man she knew nothing about.

The lights flickered back on around them. It only took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. The blonde woman Ashley from earlier was now lying on the floor, with a blood stain on her dress. Thank goodness she could still see the woman’s slight chest rising and falling, otherwise she might have been totally convinced.

Robin—the man in hunting clothes—immediately launched into his act. ‘Call the police, there’s been a murder! Everyone stay where you are—you’ll all be questioned.’

Callan took a deep breath. ‘Oh, joy. Let the mayhem begin.’ He was shaking his head again and he moved his arm from her waist. She was surprised by how much she could feel the imprint of his hand on her side. She was even more surprised by how much she still wanted it to be there.

He took a few steps over to the door, looking back across the room. There was something in his eyes, and she couldn’t tell what. Was it a memory? Happiness or sadness? No, it was something else, a wistfulness.

‘Angus would have loved this,’ he said under his breath as he headed out of the door.

CHAPTER FOUR

LAURIE PUSHED OPEN the door to the kitchen. It was ridiculously early but there seemed to be a whole army of pigeons nestling outside her castle window. And the truth was she’d had the best night’s sleep in a long time. Whether it was the good Scottish clean air, or the immensely comfortably mattress, something had made her feel as if she were sleeping in a luxury hotel.

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