Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 6

Early December in the Highlands could bring a myriad of weather conditions, and this morning promised a cold nip in the air, so Dee wound a scarf around her neck. It was her favourite, soft cashmere in a subtle duck-egg blue, and a good twenty years old. If she remembered correctly, it had been her Christmas present from the children the year Olivia turned eight.

Their excitement had been palpable as all three of them presented the parcel to her that Christmas morning. She remembered thinking whoever had done the wrapping must have used almost an entire roll of sticky tape. Sebastian was so excited he’d told her what was inside before she’d even managed to get her finger under the edge of the paper and earned himself a thump from Olivia. Freya, tiny even at that age, was always more measured and reticent than the older two, and she’d waited behind them, a finger in her mouth as she watched.

Where had Henry been during that time? Dee realised she didn’t know. Hadn’t cared all that much. She’d been far too busy cuddling all three children as they squirmed around on her lap like overexcited puppies, arranging the scarf around her neck with a suitable lack of concern about the makeup she’d carefully applied in her dressing room.

The smudge of plum lipstick was still there as a stain on the fabric, and Dee made sure to tuck it to the inside whenever she wore the scarf. A private reminder of why she’d stayed. For her children.

With her storm-proof tweed jacket zipped up to meet the scarf, and the matching cap in one hand, Dee let herself out through the kitchen court. There was no sign of the temporary housekeeper, or the little dog she’d brought with her. To be honest, Dee was relieved. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to walk, to blow away some of the starched behaviour of the last few days, the politeness and correctness she’d shown all those wishing her well and expressing sorrow at the death of Henry. She wanted a few hours to shake off the restraint she’d had to muster following the discovery of her dying husband and the hysterical half-clothed housekeeper.

Dee planned to head out along the twisting tarmac of the track leading from the keeper’s cottage out into the nearest piece of woodland to the castle. To be lost among the majestic, tall pines for a while would ground her, allow the static electricity to escape from her body, to leach away into the forgiving soil of the Highlands.

The weak sunshine which edged through the clouds wouldn’t bring much light into the densest of the woodland, but at least it wasn’t raining.

The whining of the keeper’s spaniels caught Dee’s attention as she reached the yard area, and she caught sight of Robbie in his garden. The tug to know what he was doing was something Dee had trained herself to ignore, and she went to walk on.

Next thing she knew, four spaniels of varying colourways shot out through the open gate and began circling her legs, tails wagging ten to the dozen and noses tracking the tarmac, her boots, the wheels of Robbie’s four-by-four Nissan.

‘Oh, Your Ladyship. Apologies.’

Dee did her best to ignore the sting of his use of her formal title as Robbie followed his dogs out of the garden. Their leads were looped casually around his neck, lodging between the open neck of his checked shirt and the collar of his coat. He rushed to open the back of the truck and the spaniels jumped in. Once he’d checked they were away from the doors and had closed them inside, he swung to face her. ‘I’m so sorry – did they jump at you?’

‘No, Robbie. They were, as always, impeccably behaved.’

His grin was the most honest thing Dee had seen in weeks, and he partnered it with an embarrassed rub of the side of his face. ‘I don’t know about impeccable, but thank you for saying so.’

‘I was heading out for a walk,’ Dee said, stating the obvious.

‘Very good. Were you thinking of the new plantation?’

The richness of his accent flowed from every word, and Dee felt as though she could bathe in it. Meanwhile, the misnomer of ‘the new plantation’, an area of forest at least twenty years old, made her smile.

‘Maybe the plantation, I haven’t decided.’

A crescendo of whining and scrabbling came from the back of the truck, the wire grill over the top half of the door punctuated by inquisitive noses, keen to get going.

‘I’m sorry to hold you up, Robbie. You must be very busy.’ Dee waved a hand at the truck. ‘Please. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Actually, I’m only taking the boys for a run near the waterfall,’ he said heading around the vehicle. ‘They love it out there.’

Dee hadn’t been out that far for ages. She loved the waterfall as much as she loved wandering through the trees – maybe more.

Robbie paused, as though he was taking stock of her expression. ‘Would you like a lift anywhere? I could pass the new plantation, if that suits?’

‘I don’t want to put you out.’ She shook her head. ‘You carry on.’

‘It’s no bother,’ he said.

‘Well, if you don’t mind – could I hitch a ride to the waterfall? I haven’t been there in far too long,’ she said.

In answer, he rounded the front bumper and opened the passenger door, holding it wide for her.

As he fired up the engine, Dee stole a surreptitious glance at his profile. There was something eminently calm in his demeanour, always had been.

Robbie glanced at her. ‘I should have come to pay my respects – but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate …’ He fell into silence as he negotiated the way out of the yard, accelerating along the track. Then he said, ‘I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it, I suppose.’

Had they left things so very badly? She wanted to ask the question, but couldn’t bring herself to do so, because she already knew the answer. She’d pushed him away with such firm finality it was surprising he was speaking to her at all.

It occurred to Dee that perhaps this entire conversation was borne out of an embarrassment on his part, a charade he was acting out purely because she’d stumbled across him going about the course of his daily routine. And she could feel the tense formality in his words, now.

Maybe this had been a mistake.

‘His Lordship always spoke very highly of you,’ she said, eventually. Falling back onto procedure, hiding behind civility, seemed easier. And Robbie nodded, relaxing a little in the familiar territory of formality.

The truck left the smoothness of the tarmac and bounced its way along the now unmade track, wheels spraying muddy water to both sides.

A beat of time, awkward with silence, passed before Dee said, ‘How is Mrs Keel? I know she pops up to the castle regularly, but I haven’t seen her for a few days. Is she well?’

‘Aye, formidably well, as always.’

Dorathy Keel’s family had lived in Kirkshield almost as long as the settlement had existed, and were as much, if not more, a part of this landscape as any member of the Barclay-Brown family.

‘I’m glad. She’s been an absolute rock, through … Well, through everything.’

‘Dee, I just want to tell you how sorry I am.’ The strength with which he hurled out the words took Dee aback; the familiarity of him using her name made her reel.

‘It’s been …’ The temptation to be honest with him was strong. The temptation to tell him she was sorry too was almost inescapable, as was the urge to ask if there was any way back to the easy friendship they’d enjoyed before. But Dee stopped herself, concentrating on taking a breath in, a breath out, before she reverted to the party line. ‘Thank you. It’s been a very difficult time.’

It occurred to Dee that the phrase she’d just rolled out was almost as insincere as the stock platitude the temporary housekeeper, Jess, had come out with. But Dee had lived within a framework of deception for such a long time that it seemed it had become a cage, and somewhere along the way she’d lost its key.

They drove on in silence, leaving the woodland behind and climbing through a rocky, heather-strewn landscape until the track petered out. Robbie parked up, leaping from the truck to open her door for her.

‘You really don’t need to do that,’ she said, ‘I’m perfectly capable of opening a car door for myself.’

He looked stung, and she frowned. She hadn’t meant to offend him, but her words had sounded harsh. ‘Perhaps I should leave you to it, Robbie. I’m not sure I’m the best company right now.’

‘Aye, whatever you like.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ll make my own way back,’ she added, stiff and starchy as she did her best to keep a lid on her swirling emotions.

‘As you wish, Your Ladyship.’

Dee headed away from the truck; she supposed she deserved his return to formality. She didn’t allow herself to glance back until she was sure Robbie had unloaded the dogs and was fully occupied with them. When she did look, Robbie was striding in the opposite direction, his broad shoulders held upright as his dogs bounced around him.

As she headed for the beauty of the waterfall, and the winding path which would take her home, it occurred to her that Robbie was the same age now as Henry had been when she’d first set eyes on him. Since then she’d lived an entire lifetime.

One more glance back made her pause. Robbie was no longer walking with his dogs. They were running free, scenting and barking and generally charging around, while he was motionless, staring in her direction.

Unsure what to do, Dee lifted a hand in recognition and was further confused when he lifted his in return. His action did bring a lightness to her steps, though, and she allowed herself to smile as she walked away.

Jess was part-way through packing when Amina phoned.

‘What on earth was that garbled message you left me all about?’ Amina said, her amused tone enough to have Jess slumping onto the edge of her bed, abandoning a half-folded jumper. ‘Something about having offended your employer and probably being on the next train south. What the heck have you been up to this time?’

‘How do I always get it so wrong?’ Jess wailed. ‘Please don’t say a word to Aunt Vivi, she’ll skin me alive.’

‘Start at the beginning and tell me all about it.’

The amused tone in Amina’s voice gave Jess hope. Perhaps Sebastian hadn’t been straight onto the phone to the Home From Home agency – if he had, Amina wouldn’t be being this charitable.

‘So, I was chatting to the gamekeeper,’ Jess began.

‘Ooh, very la-di-da. What’s he called? Let me guess … Rabbie McTavish? Craig Macintosh? Or what was that TV series – it’s on one of the grey channels, you know, for the old and bedridden – oh yes, Hamish Macbeth . That would be perfect.’

Jess was grinning. Amina always knew how to cheer her up. ‘You weren’t far wrong with your first guess. He’s called Robbie – don’t know his last name – but now you’ve mentioned McTavish, I hope that’s what it is. He’s also six-foot-plus and comes complete with awesome shoulders and a rather nice smile … But that’s not where it went wrong …’

‘No, sounds like that’s where it’s all going to go right,’ Amina said. ‘But feel free to carry on with your far less interesting tale of woe.’

‘It was what he said about the way the estate is being run, how loads of the properties are run-down and need maintenance work done. It doesn’t sound like anything’s been done for the locals for years. And, well, I kind of went off on one about it to the newly installed earl.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s not great, Jess. Even by your standards that’s a bit …’

‘Yeah, I know. So, I’m busy packing.’

‘He’s sacked you?’ Jess could almost hear Amina’s thoughts whirring. She’d be thinking about a replacement housekeeper, and where she could next send Jess.

‘Well, not in so many words, but I kind of presumed he’d be straight on the phone to you, and when I got your voicemail, it made sense to me that was the reason.’

‘I was on the phone to a new client. There are other people involved in Home From Home, you know?’

‘Fair enough.’ Jess took a deep breath. ‘So, you haven’t heard anything from Sebastian, then?’

‘It can’t be all that bad if you’re using his first name,’ Amina said. ‘No, Jess, I haven’t. Be reassured, we’ve had no contact with the Barclay-Brown family since we finalised your contract. But Jess …’

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Jess said. She knew all too well Amina’s ‘cut the crap’ tone. ‘I’ll go and apologise straightaway.’

‘You do that. And if the gamekeeper’s single, and as attractive as you say, maybe I should spend Christmas in the Highlands. What do you think?’

Jess smiled. ‘I think you need to get in line behind me.’

‘Have fun,’ Amina said. ‘Love you. Bye.’

With the phone call ended, Jess supposed there was no point procrastinating further. She left Digby shut in her room, hoping the animal wouldn’t take the opportunity to turn her bed into his own personal grooming parlour again, and went in search of Sebastian.

She found him in the library, seated at the massive desk set in front of one of the windows. She knocked lightly on the frame of the open doorway, then waited as he glanced up from the sheaf of papers in front of him and gestured for her to enter. Jess took a deep breath as she approached him.

‘I think I need to apologise,’ she said, heat racing to her cheeks as she bit at her lip and waited for his response.