Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 23

Sebastian heard the whirring of the helicopter’s blades and watched from the porch as the downwash swirled the icing-sugar snow. Eventually the blades came to a stop and doors popped open on the cabin, before the pilot and his passenger climbed out.

Edward Ellingham was suited and booted, his city shoes not a great choice in the inconvenient slipperiness of the snow, even though it was only a couple of inches thick. He picked his way through it and onto the stones of the gravel driveway, waiting for the pilot to pass him his briefcase before he stopped to admire the front aspect of the building.

Sebastian took the opportunity to stride out to meet him, hand outstretched.

‘Welcome to Kirkshield Castle. I’m the Earl of Kirkshield,’ he said. ‘But please call me Sebastian.’

‘Edward Ellingham. Everyone calls me Ellingham.’ The greeting was firm, as was the handshake. ‘Good to meet you, Sebastian.’

They stood and stared at the castle for a while, until Ellingham nodded. ‘Definitely got kerb appeal, I’ll give it that.’

As Ellingham shivered, Sebastian suggested they began their tour inside.

‘Excellent idea. I hadn’t factored in the temperature up here.’

Sebastian grinned. ‘It has nosedived over the last couple of days. I’m sure we can find you a coat so you can have a good look around the outside in due course.’

It was strange to walk around his family home looking at it through the dispassionate eyes of a potential purchaser: an investor who was looking at the bottom line, nothing else. The corner of the formal drawing room where his little sister Freya always used to conceal herself between a bureau and the wall whenever they played hide-and-seek meant nothing to Ellingham. Nor did the fact that it was the room in which Sebastian’s father had lectured his son on the ways of ‘men’ and had detonated any chance of his romance with Catriona by dropping his bombshell.

Ellingham was suitably impressed by the library and the unusual balcony, his enthusiasm palpable as he shot across the room to stare at the view from the massive French windows.

‘The space in here is absolutely spectacular,’ he said, marching along the bookcases, ignoring the desk at which Sebastian had discovered the full extent of his father’s overspending and his reckless disregard for the well-being of anyone and everyone on Kirkshield Estate.

‘I can see this space as a possible gym,’ Ellingham said as they headed into the breakfast room. ‘Lovely dual-aspect windows giving the guests excellent views while they work out. They like that kind of thing.’

Ellingham smiled at him, but all Sebastian could see was a memory from way back in the past, the morning of his eighth birthday. That was one of the days Mrs Keel had been standing in for someone his father had probably got bored with and dismissed, and she’d tripped on the edge of the rug, catapulting Sebastian’s soft-boiled egg from its cup. As Mrs Keel had squealed and regained her balance, the egg had soared through the air and smashed against the wall. Sebastian remembered them all finding it hilariously funny – even his father – especially when Mrs Keel made a timeless joke about it being as well she hadn’t put all the boiled eggs in one basket. If you looked carefully, it was still possible to make out the smudgy mark on the paintwork. Sebastian didn’t think Ellingham would want to see that.

It took everything Sebastian had to take him into the music room. Out of the entirety of the castle, the music room was the one space in which he’d always felt at home. Happy. Relaxed. Purposeful. Ellingham had his hand on the piano, the warmth from his palm leaving a smear of condensation as he asked if the instrument would be part of the deal.

If he was going to do this, it was time for Sebastian to let it all go – not just the bits of the castle he hated; he needed to let it all go. On a sigh he nodded. ‘It won’t fit into my London flat, so I guess it could be part of the negotiations.’

A double tap of Ellingham’s hand on the mahogany casing seemed suddenly proprietorial and Sebastian hurried to show him the rest of the building, then took him outside for a drive around the closest parts of the estate.

After the tour, and back in the library, Ellingham cut to the chase.

‘How badly is the estate in debt?’ he asked.

Sebastian felt himself prickle with anger. Even though the current finances were not of his making, he still felt responsible, somehow. Perhaps if he hadn’t left to pursue his dreams, his father wouldn’t have got everything into this much of a state. Perhaps his father had done it on purpose, to leave Sebastian a hell of a mess to sort out after he’d gone. His emotions must have been painted onto his expression because Ellingham held his hands up in a calming gesture.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I understand this is incredibly difficult for you. For all your family. But if Ellingham Investments takes the estate on, we need to fully understand the extent of the insolvency.’

‘Are you suggesting you would cover all the debts?’ Sebastian had assumed the investment package would come in the form of the purchase of the estate, leaving Sebastian to settle all outstanding debts out of his share of the sale price.

‘It’s a possibility. We look at all sorts of investment packages, depending what suits us and the prospective sellers. Obviously, everything is factored into and reflected by the final takeaway amount we would be able to offer you, but I’m sure you already appreciate the balancing act involved.’

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. ‘Yes. I understand.’

‘This is only a preliminary visit, Sebastian. A chance to dip a toe into the water, as it were. There’s a long way to go yet, a whole lot of valuations and accountancy work to be done before we’ll get close to a deal. We’ve got plenty of time to talk numbers. But what I want to say to you today is that Ellingham Investments is definitely interested.’

‘In the whole estate?’

‘Most probably, yes. The market is moving into destination holidays. Staycations are still a market leader, but we’re experiencing a real uptick in foreign visitors again, thank goodness. So, to have somewhere as spectacular as this, with enough room to create golf courses, spa buildings, maybe even continue with some of the traditional aspects of a stay in the Highlands – shooting grouse and holding ceilidh dances. Whisky-tasting. Tartan. It’s all very appealing. Timeless, you might say.’

Sebastian startled as there came a knock on the library door.

‘Come in.’

It was Jess. Her presence in the room seemed to allow all the static electricity he’d accumulated to seep out into the floorboards. She smiled, carrying a tray loaded with coffee pot, milk, sugar and delicate cups and saucers all taken from the plate room in the corner of the dining room. The monogrammed crockery oozed confidence and status, and although he was pleased Jess had thought to use it, he wasn’t sure he matched up to any of it.

Alongside the coffee pot was a small plate groaning with a pile of Kitty’s shortbread. Sebastian would recognise it anywhere.

As she offered to pour the coffee, Sebastian shook his head.

‘No need, I’ll do it. Thanks so much, Jess.’ For a moment he considered asking her to stay for the remainder of the meeting, then dismissed it. However much he could do with someone’s support – her support – there was no reason she would want to be involved in the estate’s money troubles. As the door closed softly behind her, and Sebastian dragged his gaze from her departing figure and onto the coffee tray, the shortbread caught his attention again.

‘I do have a question,’ he said, passing Ellingham a cup of coffee.

‘Fire away.’

‘The estate comes with a number of tenanted properties. Twenty or so cottages of various sizes, two farms and a handful of retail outlets. Pub, shop and so on. I would want to know that those people would remain safe in their properties. Some of them are very elderly and have lived on the estate all their lives.’

‘The farms would remain largely untouched, I would assume. I don’t always get involved in the minutiae, but in the short term I don’t think anything would change for them. Having people tending the land for us is beneficial. You mentioned the need for some urgent maintenance on almost all the properties, yes?’

‘The most urgent work is already scheduled to begin in the new year.’

Ellingham nodded. ‘As for the rest of the tenants? Well, let’s put it this way. Once the properties have been renovated to our exceptional standards, it’s a free market as to who wishes to rent them, isn’t it?’

‘But most of them have a lifetime tenancy agreement. You would honour those, wouldn’t you?’

‘What would you like me to say? I can assure you that everyone will be taken care of. But lifetime tenancy agreements are no more unbreakable than any other kind of a contract.’

‘That’s not the point though, is it? The Kirkshield Estate gave them its word. That they would have homes for life.’

‘No. The Barclay-Brown family made that promise. Things change, Sebastian. You want to sell those properties, and you must understand how unappealing it is for Ellingham Investments, or any investment company with the buying power you need, to invest money in property with sitting tenants, let alone lifetime ones? It’s like buying a building infested with rats, and not being allowed to bring in pest control.’ Ellingham frowned, looking down his aquiline nose at Sebastian. ‘I understand you don’t have a background in finance. I understand this is probably all very confusing for you. But it doesn’t need to be. Nothing is constant except for change, as my old granny used to say.’

Sebastian pushed his own coffee cup away, rubbing at his mouth with his fingers. He had assumed little, if anything, would change for the tenants – apart from having their properties brought up to required standards. This wasn’t part of his plan. And although many of the villagers had little time for the Barclay-Brown family, that didn’t mean Sebastian wanted to see them lose their homes. The sale of Kirkshield Estate was only supposed to affect him and his family. To get them out of the financial hole his father had landed them in.

‘Sooner or later, we have to do whatever is best for ourselves and our nearest and dearest, don’t we? If you were on the Titanic , and you spotted a free lifeboat, who are you going to get to climb aboard with you? Those are the people you need to protect now, too. Nobody in the village is going to be thrown onto the street. There are some very nice council flats in Inverness. And money-wise, there’s wiggle room in all our negotiations, Sebastian. But for now, I’ll thank you for the opportunity to look around your beautiful property and let you get on with your day. I think you’ve got plenty to think about and we’ll be in touch soon, yes?’

Once the meeting had reached its conclusion, and Sebastian had seen Edward Ellingham off his property, watching the helicopter lift, tilt and disappear into the gloom of more heavy snow clouds, he headed back inside. Shutting himself in the library, Sebastian stared at the plate of Kitty’s shortbread as he considered Ellingham’s words.

Jess heard the helicopter leave, deciding to give Sebastian some time to decompress after what would undoubtably have been a challenging meeting. She hoped he might bring the coffee tray back through to the kitchen himself, with everything settled satisfactorily. When there was no sign of him after a good thirty minutes, Jess told Digby to stay – a challenge the little dog was getting quite good at rising to – and she headed for the library.

Jess didn’t wait for a reply to her rap on the door, but pushed it open and peered round to see Sebastian at the desk, head in his hands.

‘What happened?’ she said. ‘Is everything OK?’

At the sound of her voice, he scrubbed at the sides of his face and attempted a thin smile. Then he shook his head. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Wasn’t he interested?’ she asked, slipping into the seat recently vacated by the development guy. ‘He’s an idiot if he isn’t.’

‘Oh, he’s interested. It’s not that.’

Jess frowned. ‘Were the figures no good?’

Prior to this afternoon, Sebastian had seemed so certain in his decision; Jess was struggling to imagine what had gone so wrong. The building was beautiful, the rooms huge but massively characterful. The music room was stunning, the bedrooms endless – even the kitchen with its cantankerous Aga was blessed with original floor tiles and a huge antique dresser anybody would adore to have in their house, if they could fit it in. Sensational views beckoned from every window in the property and only improved the higher up you went. Kirkshield village was chocolate-box perfect, the river and the granite-strewn grasslands and even the woods (minus the shotguns) were straight-up gorgeous. In fact, the whole place had a sprinkling of magic which Jess was only beginning to appreciate.

If the developer hadn’t come up with a decent figure for a place as special as this, then Sebastian would just need to hold out for someone else to come along. Someone who would love this place as it deserved to be loved.

‘We didn’t get as far as talking figures. That comes “further down the line” apparently.’ Sebastian mimed inverted commas around the words, irritation clouding his features. ‘It’s not the money. It’s the village.’

‘What do you mean? He doesn’t want to buy the cottages?’

‘No, he wants to buy and renovate them.’

‘That’s great, isn’t it?’ As she said it, she realised there must be a massive spanner about to be inserted into the whirring cogs of the plan. Sebastian’s expression told her as much.

‘It’s not that simple, Jess. God knows I’m guilty of having stuck my head in the sand about this place for too long, but basically, his proposals mean the village tenants will end up losing their homes. Being rehomed elsewhere if they can’t afford his new rents once their cottages have been renovated, which, by the sounds of this guy, they won’t.’

‘What?’ Heat and then coldness prickled up and down Jess’s spine. ‘Mrs Keel? Isla and Craig Macwarren? Everyone?’

Sebastian rubbed at his forehead, then nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it.’

‘But …’

‘I know. He likened this place to the Titanic . Said I needed to think about who I want in the lifeboat with me.’

‘But …’

He shook his head, then attempted to smile. ‘I know, Jess. I know. Rock and a hard place.’

Absently, Jess took a piece of shortbread, biting into it and doing her best to taste it. The look of complete dejection on Sebastian’s face had her sliding the rest of the biscuit back onto the plate, the bite she had taken like sawdust in her mouth.

‘How bad are the debts?’ she asked softly, watching Sebastian as he shuffled some paperwork in a large drawer and pulled out a folder, and from that a bank statement. He swivelled it so she could see it; Jess scanned the figures, the columns and numbers scary in their magnitude. Eventually, she glanced up at him, her finger shaking as she pointed to a total. ‘And this is a minus, yes?’

‘Yes. It’s a minus. That’s our overdraft. My father has been extending the loans on this place for years. Against the advice of the accountants, obviously. Not that my father was good at taking advice from anyone. I suppose the only saving grace is that, so far, the bank hasn’t demanded a settlement. If they did that, it would be totally game over.’

Butterflies flapped around Jess’s stomach as she looked at the numbers again. No wonder Sebastian looked so forlorn. She swallowed, trying to block out the brightness of Isla Macwarren’s smile, the warmth of Mrs Keel’s welcome when Jess had arrived a stranger at the castle. She tried not to think about what would happen to Kitty McAllister, or her husband at The Old Goat. Because, although Kirkshield and its inhabitants were becoming very dear to her, if she was faced with a similar decision she would probably want to run a mile and get far, far away from a debt millstone of that magnitude.

‘What are you going to do?’ she whispered.

Sebastian frowned, his gaze travelling away from Jess, from the paperwork on the desk, out through the window and away. Jess wondered if he was looking at the snow outside, or whether he was further away still, in a faraway part of himself she had yet to access. After a while he refocused on the room, on her, and took a deep breath.

‘I’m not throwing the tenants to the wolves. I can’t do it. I don’t know how I’m going to turn this place around, but if that’s what I’ve got to do, I’ll have to find a way. Somehow.’

Jess wanted to smile, the idea that – for now at least – the estate was safe made the butterflies in her stomach settle. But Sebastian looked more weighed down than ever. The idea to sell had been his escape chute, and he’d just padlocked it closed.

‘Brick by brick?’ she said.

A glimmer of a smile crossed his lips. ‘Literally.’

‘ We could do B and B in the castle, perhaps?’ she said, noticing her pronoun choice only after the word had fled her mouth. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed; he gave her a distracted smile and shuffled the papers back into the folder without answering. For her part, Jess stood and collected the coffee things, confused by her thoughts. ‘I’ll make you a fresh coffee.’

‘I would really appreciate that, Jess. Thank you.’