Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 15

The following afternoon, Dee didn’t realise how reluctant she was to return to the castle until she and Robbie drew back into the yard beside his cottage, the remnants of their picnic in a rucksack on the seat between them.

He’d taken her to a wonderfully sheltered nook further up from the waterfall. There he’d spread a tartan rug out on the weathered granite so they could nestle against the curved rock, totally sheltered from the weather, and well away from prying eyes.

She supposed that was why she’d never found the spot before, even though she thought she knew the whole estate, having walked most of it at one time or another.

Not that they’d needed the seclusion for anything more than to shelter them from the brisk breeze. Nobody could have passed judgement on them as they enjoyed the picnic and the view – as he’d claimed, it was the perfect spot.

Robbie made a very good cheddar and pickle sandwich, and he’d brought a flask of strong black coffee which they drank as they watched birds cartwheel on the thermals high above them.

Dee wasn’t sure when she’d last felt this relaxed, this contented in someone else’s company, and their conversation eased its way back to how it had been, before.

They talked most about the place they both loved: Kirkshield. Its varied landscapes and hidden gems, like the curve in the rocks they currently occupied. When a cock pheasant was startled by one of Robbie’s spaniels and flew past them, low and insistent with its distinctive panicky cack-cack call, Robbie watched it fly with a wry smile on his face.

‘Hide well, young man,’ he said, sighing as his attention came back to Dee.

She frowned, confused by his words. ‘Why would you want the bird to hide? You want them to fly don’t you, on shoot days?’

‘I suppose,’ Robbie said, shaking his head as he pulled his cap further down, as though he was also trying to hide from something. ‘What would you think of me if I told you I’ve never enjoyed the killing. I know it’s part of the sport, that it’s how the industry works, I just don’t revel in it like some do.’

Dee’s eyebrows arched. He’d never admitted to this before. Maybe the fact Henry had gone was easing everyone’s tensions, allowing people to indulge in honesty in a way nobody would have dared before. ‘I think that sounds like you and my son are on the same wavelength. He’s always hated the shooting, too.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, if someone wings a bird and a dog brings it back alive, I’ll do what needs to be done, but otherwise …’

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he pulled in a long breath.

‘It must be difficult, then, being the estate gamekeeper. How have you coped all these years?’

‘Lack of other options, I suppose. When I was a kid I shot with my dad, never thought twice about it. Always knew I’d be expected to take over when he retired. But one day – I suppose I was probably about fifteen – I found a wee fallow doe. She’d taken some pellets to her rump and my dog found her in a thicket. Hiding there, she was, waiting to die. Long story short, I managed to nurse her back to health, and I still remember the day I set her free – the look on her face at having a second chance at life. Like she didn’t quite believe it was real. Never felt the same about shooting after that. Tried to stick to the clays ever since.’

‘Will you tell me the long version of the story, one day?’ Dee said. She tried her best to ignore Sebastian’s words, but they kept creeping back to the front of her mind, with the threat that he was going to sell the castle, possibly the whole estate. Where would her and Robbie’s second chance at friendship be if the estate was ripped up and sold off? Where would Robbie end up? Where would she go, come to that?

‘Aye, I will. Watch out, incoming …’ he said, holding his arm out to shield her as one of his spaniels zoomed towards the pair of them, knocking over the flask before it jinked away. They bumped shoulders as he stood the flask upright and reprimanded his dog, albeit in amused tones. He clipped the sandwich-box lid back in place.

‘You can hardly blame him, those sandwiches were lovely,’ she said.

‘Why, thank you m’lady,’ he said, the twinkle in his eye as he smiled at her making Dee’s stomach flip.

‘Do you ever allow your dogs any snacks? I was always giving the old Labrador bits and bobs. Used to drive Henry wild.’ Dee grinned. Atticus had loved the occasional crust or the rind from a piece of bacon, and Dee had been happy to oblige. She knew full well it antagonised her husband, but Henry’s anger had applied itself to everything she did over those last few years, and at least she’d managed to make the dog happy.

‘I try not to, but that’s easier said than done. He’s the most persistent,’ Robbie said, pointing to the red and white spaniel looping his way around the grass. ‘Even as a pup he was expert at wheedling out a food source. Once found him doing his best to open a tin of caviar someone had left at a peg after a drive.’

‘Caviar?’ Dee stifled a laugh.

‘Aye. The guest must have been so hungry he had to snack on the job, and he must have forgotten to take it with him. Otto’s a firm believer in finders keepers.’

At the sound of his name, the dog pricked his ears and came closer.

‘Who brings caviar on a shoot, and then leaves it behind?’

Robbie shrugged. ‘You’d be amazed what gets left. Someone managed to forget their dog last winter. Found it in the back of the truck the next day, poor wee lad. They sent someone to collect it, eventually. There’s no accounting for some folks,’ he added, shoving the sandwich box into the rucksack and pushing at Otto. ‘Go on, now. Away with you.’

‘God, I’ve missed this,’ Dee said, unguarded as she rested her head back against the granite. ‘I’ve missed you, Robbie.’

‘Me too, Dee.’

At that moment, a shining high point in an afternoon when Dee had enjoyed herself far more than propriety should have allowed, Dee found herself wanting even more. She was greedy on the endorphins of pleasure and the last thing she wanted was for it to end. But end it did, as daylight faltered and then failed. In the half-light, Robbie gathered up the picnic equipment, packing it away efficiently and whistling to round up the dogs.

Now they were outside his cottage and, although Dee couldn’t stall her return to the castle any longer, still she paused.

Robbie sensed her hesitation. ‘Would you like me to walk you back?’

It would only prolong the inevitable, so Dee shook her head and smiled at him.

‘No, I’d best get back. Thank you for today, Robbie Keel.’ The sound of his name on her lips had her smiling more broadly and before she could think too hard about what she was doing, she leant across and hugged him, then climbed from the truck.

‘I’ll see you soon?’

He’d phrased it as a question, but Dee had never been surer of anything. She was so sure, she didn’t even reply, just grinned at him as she slammed the truck door and took a deep breath, heading up the flagstone path towards Kirkshield Castle.