Coming Home to the Highlands, page 12
He rubbed at his now fully bearded chin. ‘Aye, aye of course, but the thing is I’m not apologising on behalf of myself.’
Baffled and a little irked, she turned to fully face him now. ‘So, it wasn’t you who humiliated me in front of a pub full of people then? After everything I had said to you about how I was feeling about this whole bloody matter?’
He stepped closer, sinking his hands into the pockets of his combat trousers. ‘Actually, no, it wasn’t.’
Confusion niggled at her, and she shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It was one of the lads. You know Angus Buchan from school? Your favourite of my friends,’ he said without hiding his sarcasm.
‘The one with the thinning hair? The one whose ear you were singing into as I left the pub under a cloud of embarrassment?’
‘Lady Olivia, you’re mistaken. That is, Olivia… it was Angus who got the band to play that song. What you witnessed was me shouting expletives into his ear as you left. He already knew about your inheritance. But not from me, I hasten to add. News travels fast around here, as you know. And he’d made some derogatory comment about you being privileged and snobby. I defended you and said that actually it wasn’t something you were hoping for or comfortable with, but he said I still had a crush on you, so I was blinkered. Then he spoke to the lead singer and then that happened. I was mortified. I… I’m embarrassed to say I punched him after you’d left and then I ran out to explain but you’d gone. I would’ve come yesterday but I had to go to the police station to make a statement about the alleged assault. Thankfully Angus realised he’d been a nob when he sobered up and isn’t pressing charges.’
Olivia listened but couldn’t quite take it all in. ‘Oh… I see. Making quite a habit of punching people, aren’t you?’
He lowered his gaze and his cheeks tinged bright pink. ‘It’s not who I am, especially when…’ He shook his head. ‘I mean, I’m so, so sorry.’ There was a deep sincerity to his gaze, and she couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t finish his sentence.
Mirren appeared in the doorway. ‘Olivia, dear, Spencer is here with the car out front,’ she said with a brief glance towards Brodie.
‘Oh, right, yes, thank you, Mirren. Please could you tell him I’ll be right out?’ Mirren glanced at Brodie again, nodded and hurried away.
Olivia stood and Brodie lunged for her luggage. ‘Here let me get your bags,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, still trying to process everything. Silently she followed him out to the car, and he placed her cases in the boot of the highly polished black vehicle.
‘Are you okay?’ Brodie asked, genuine concern in his gaze.
Olivia nodded. ‘I am. Thank you. And… I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you… again.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s nae bother. I just wanted to explain before you left, that’s all. Didn’t want you all the way over in New York thinking I’d betrayed you. Despite what you might think, I wouldn’t do that to anyone. Least of all to you.’
Her heart skipped and she wondered what he meant by that, but she didn’t have time to contemplate it as the suited driver opened the car door and Olivia climbed in. Just as Spencer was about to close the door, something Brodie had said suddenly gained clarity.
She held up her hand. ‘Wait, one second please.’ She turned to Brodie. ‘Angus said you “still had a crush” on me…?’
Brodie’s cheeks flushed again, and he fidgeted. ‘Oh, that… aye. He used to rib me something chronic about it when we were kids. And when I used to come home to stay with Dad, he’d rib me about watching you in the garden.’
‘You didn’t, though, did you? Have a crush on me at school? I mean… the name calling… the twig throwing…’
Brodie dropped his gaze and smiled before lifting his chin and locking his eyes on her again. ‘What’s that phrase about always hurting the one you love?’
Love? Olivia’s stomach somersaulted and heat flooded her veins, but it was short-lived. She paused and reminded herself of what she had learned recently. ‘And now you’re happily married,’ she said with a smile.
He nodded but frowned. ‘Aye, and now I’m married.’
Olivia inhaled a deep breath and climbed back out of the car. She stood a couple of feet away from Brodie. ‘Well, thank you for explaining. It’s certainly helped clear things up. I possibly won’t see you when I return in six months’ time, seeing as the gardeners have pretty much all been reinstated. Your dad will have plenty of help going forward and I’m sure you have better things to do with your qualifications than pull up weeds at a dilapidated old castle.’ She inhaled a shaking breath. ‘So… I’ll say goodbye and wish you and your wife all the best.’ She wanted to hug him but instead held out her hand.
He took her fingers and stroked his thumb across them. ‘All the best to you, Olivia. I look forward with excitement to seeing what becomes of this place under your care.’
For a split second, Olivia thought he was going to kiss her hand, but he straightened and released her. She climbed back into the car and Spencer closed the door. He climbed into the driving seat and started the engine but as he did so, Brodie stepped forward and gestured for her to open the window.
She did so and looked up at him. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘I— I was just going to say that if I had asked the band to play a song, it would have been something completely different.’
She tilted her head as her heart skipped. ‘Really? What would it have been?’
His cheeks coloured again, and a handsome smile spread across his face. ‘It’s pointless telling you, really. But it’s another song that used to remind me of you when we were younger. It was an oldie even then, but they were my dad’s favourite band, so I was brought up on them I suppose. Their music still has a strange effect on me.’
‘Whose music?’
Brodie opened his mouth to reply but Spencer, the driver, cleared his throat dramatically. ‘Lady Olivia, I’m sorry to interject, but if you’re going to make the check-in for your flight, we really need to go.’
‘Yes, yes, one second, Spencer. Brodie?’
‘The band was the Police,’ he replied with a small smile. ‘The song… “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic”.’
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat.
Brodie widened his eyes and his colour seemed to drain rapidly. ‘And, and I’m pretty sure that will apply to whatever you do with the castle,’ he added as if to change the meaning behind his words. He patted the roof of the car. ‘You’d better go. I don’t want to be responsible for you missing your flight.’
‘Yes. Yes, I should go. Well… thank you, Brodie.’ She smiled, despite a sadness that had wrapped around her heart. ‘Take care.’
‘You too,’ he replied.
She pressed the button to raise the window again with the Police’s song bouncing around her head as she tried to remember the lyrics, and as the car pulled away, she turned to see Brodie standing there with one hand raised. She gave a single wave and watched until the car turned a slight bend on the long drive, and she could no longer see him.
Once she’d turned to face the front again, she took out her phone and searched for the lyrics of the Police song that Brodie had mentioned. She read them and her heart flipped. Surely he can’t have really felt that way? she mused to herself and smiled. But yet again, her smile disappeared quickly when she reminded herself that Brodie was, in fact, a married man.
10
Within only a few days, Olivia had moved into her new apartment in a picturesque block on Park Avenue in the Upper East Side of New York. It was a duplex with the bedrooms on a second level, the principal with its own terrace for morning coffee; the view, however, was somewhat different to her balcony back home. Instead of deer, hares and birds, there were the trees that lined the street below and the other blocks that surrounded her. Windows of other apartments narrowly missed having a direct view into hers. If she hadn’t lived in New York before, she could’ve felt quite hemmed in, but it was something that didn’t faze her now. She had an abundance of space inside, where it mattered. The rooms were light and airy with white-painted walls and large, comfortable furniture which was all provided already. There was a bright white kitchen with modern appliances and a breakfast bar that she could imagine Harper sitting at as she cooked them pasta.
The apartment was to become her head office of sorts. The Command Centre, Uncle Innes called it. She had her laptop and papers pertaining to Drumblair set up on the dining table that sat at one end of the large open-plan living area, meaning the spare room remained empty in case Harper changed her mind about moving in. Of course, she knew it was unlikely, but she held on to a little hope.
If her mother was trying to convince her to return to Scotland, she had gone the wrong way about it. This place was a dream; so sumptuous and classy. She still didn’t understand why her mother had arranged it for her when she was only supposed to stay for six months. Then Olivia reminded herself that she had given her the option of bowing out and remaining in the Big Apple indefinitely. If she chose to do so, she now had the perfect place to live.
Around a week after her return to New York, Olivia met Nina at a coffee shop on Lexington Avenue to talk everything through before she returned to the office. Nina told her what had been going on in her absence – even though Harper had already kept her abreast of the goings on – and Olivia filled Nina in on all the details of her inheritance, nervously poising herself rigid for the response.
Nina leaned forward in her leather armchair and placed her oversized coffee cup on a coaster. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth formed an O. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ she said eventually. ‘You’re landed gentry now! Why on earth have you come back to New York when you have all that waiting for you? It sounds idyllic.’
Olivia sighed. ‘Because I love my job here. All I’ve ever wanted to be is a fashion designer. This situation was never on my radar. My older brother was always the rightful heir, so this whole thing has thrown me for a loop. But now it’s happened I’m… lost. Part of me knows I will always belong at Drumblair, it’s my home, it’s my family’s history, but an equal part of me knows that here I’m living my childhood dream.’
‘Oh, sweetie. It’s a lot to take in on top of losing your mamma. Is there no one else who could take the lead? Did your brother not want the responsibility? What has he said?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘Therein lies another tale. He wasn’t in the least bit happy that my mother purposely avoided leaving the castle to him. He’s… how can I put it? Troubled.’
Nina raised her eyebrows and held up a halting hand. ‘Ah. Say no more. Families can be so complicated. But look, you have so many opportunities ahead of you. What’s to say you can’t get the castle to a point where you know it’s repaired and then have your uncle take the reins so you can return here?’
Olivia nodded slowly. ‘That’s the plan. Well, one of them. I just wanted to be completely transparent with you. I know you wanted to discuss a change in my role, and I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.’
Nina rolled her eyes and waved her hand. ‘Ciccio, Michael and Alvaro have gone to make their new life together as a married couple. The wedding was a lavish affair, lots of sparkles,’ she added as a side note with a wink. ‘But I would love for you to step into Michael’s shoes if you think you can handle that and everything else you have going on too?’
Olivia gasped. ‘Don’t you want to interview me? Consider others even?’
Nina smiled. ‘Consider this your interview.’ She became serious for a moment. ‘Look, I’ve wanted to have you as my second for a while now. I’ve witnessed you growing and improving whenever you were given the opportunity to fly. But the truth is, Olivia, you’re good enough to go it alone. You don’t need to stay at Nina Picarro. You could easily start your own label. Maybe that’s what you will do eventually, or maybe you will return to Scotland and fully embrace your role as Lady MacBain, I don’t know. The truth is, and I know it’s selfish, but I would like to keep you on board for as long as I can. You’re invaluable to me.’
Olivia smiled but it was tinged with a little of the sadness she felt inside. ‘Thank you so much. For everything. For giving me a chance when I first came here. For believing in me. For trusting me. It means so much and I would love to accept.’
Nina sprang to her feet. ‘Meravigliosa!’ She hugged Olivia. ‘I don’t think they sell Champagne here, will another macchiato suffice?’ she asked as she waved the waiter over.
Olivia returned to work at the fashion house after a week of settling into her new place and after many video calls with Uncle Innes to set the wheels in motion for funding for the castle repairs and changes. It was a strange thing to experience, as she had never imagined doing anything other than designing clothing, but dealing with the plans for Drumblair was secretly quite exciting. Invigorating, even.
After her first week back at work, Olivia was sitting at the board room table with Nina, design sketches spread out before them. Olivia could feel Nina’s eyes on her and eventually she spoke.
‘You’ve got a glow about you, Olivia, dear. Have you met someone?’ Nina asked.
Olivia would’ve loved to have met Mr Right but there simply were not enough hours in a day. ‘No, sadly not. I’m just feeling energised.’
‘Well, it suits you, ciccio, that’s for sure. And these latest designs are incredible. I especially love the texture on this one.’ She lifted the drawing that Olivia had started when she was at home, inspired by the red squirrel and the tree bark.
She flooded with happiness. ‘I’m so glad you like it! For me it epitomises home, well, my Scottish home, anyway.’
Nina paused and tapped her lips with her finger. ‘Can you do more? More along these lines? I think this is some of your best work. It’s clear that your home has a positive effect on you.’
Olivia remembered the other sketches she had done while she was at home and nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Excellent. I can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’m thinking next year’s fall collection will be amazing.’
Olivia kept in regular contact with Uncle Innes and Mirren back at home. She had held off asking about Brodie, but a couple of weeks into her return to New York, curiosity got the better of her.
It was Saturday lunchtime in New York and Olivia was munching on homemade quesadillas as she chatted on a video call to Mirren. It was 5.30 p.m. in Scotland and as always, Mirren was busy preparing food for the gardeners and cleaning staff and had her phone propped up against a butter dish as she worked.
‘Is Brodie still at Drumblair?’ Olivia eventually asked, if a little tentatively.
Mirren stopped kneading the pastry before her, narrowed her eyes and smiled before she began her reply. ‘He’s back just now but he left not long after you did. Couldn’t seem to settle. Told his dad he had stuff to deal with in Edinburgh. Then came back a week or so later and he’s been here since.’ She paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘Aye, it was a bit strange when he got back. He was wearing dark glasses when it wasn’t even sunny. Turns out he had walked into a cupboard when he was back wherever he’d been. He was helping a friend move house, he said. Felt like a right idiot, he said, so wore the sunglasses to cover it up. It was a fair shiner. It’s calming now but it did look sore. Wee dafty.’
The old’ walking into a cupboard excuse’, eh? Olivia was beginning to think Brodie had anger management issues after seeing him punch Kerr, hearing he punched his friend and now this. The thought concerned her. ‘Oh, no. That sounds painful. I hope he’s okay. Did he… erm… bring his wife back with him this time?’
Mirren scoffed. ‘No, but he did bring his dug.’
Olivia perked up. She had grown up with dogs and loved having one around. There had been her black Labrador, Duke, who died when she was around eleven. And then of course Marley, who she missed like crazy. ‘Oh? I didn’t know he had a dog. What kind is it?’
‘He’s a Golden Retriever. A young ’un too. About a year old and batty as a box of bats.’
Olivia smiled. ‘Awww. Has he met Marley yet?’
Mirren laughed. ‘Oh, aye. They’re like a pair of bookends. The only thing that tells them apart sometimes is Marley’s pink nose.’
Olivia grinned. ‘Aw. What’s his name?’
Mirren rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’s a stupid name, if you ask me, that’s what it is. It’s an old man’s name, not a dug’s. I mean, I know there’s a trend of calling dugs by human names these days, but what’s wrong with Fido and Butch? I mean… who calls their dug “Wilf”, for goodness’ sake?’
Olivia couldn’t help giggling. ‘Oh, I love that! Wilf! It’s hilarious.’
Mirren leaned closer to the camera and lowered her voice. ‘It’s not hilarious when he runs off with your slipper and you’re having to shout him and cajole him to bring it back. I feel like a right bampot shouting, “Wilf! Bring back my slipper and you can have a juicy bone instead!” It sounds like I’m calling after some kind of cannibalistic pensioner. The rest of the staff find it highly amusing. I’ve even been told Wilf must love me, seeing as it’s my slippers he runs off with.’ She chuckled. ‘Wilf… I ask you…’
Olivia laughed heartily as Mirren relayed the goings on at the castle. After what Mirren had said about Wilf sounding like a pensioner, Olivia envisaged her chasing an old man around the grounds with a pork trotter as he tried to keep her slippers away from her.
‘It’s all right you laughing,’ Mirren said with a wry smile. ‘But aye, he’s a sweet wee pup when he wants to be. Usually when he’s hungry or tired. Marley puts him in place when he gets too much. Innes brings him along every time he comes around with contractors. Brodie clearly adores Wilf. And the dug follows that man around like a shadow. It’s a sight to see, that’s for sure.’
A wave of homesickness washed over Olivia and her heart sank a little. It was something she had never really suffered from before. She had settled right into her new city and her new life years ago when she first arrived in America. The bustling metropolis was vibrant and alive with fast-walking people, bright sun-yellow cabs, buildings that seemed to touch the clouds, flashing street signs and a myriad of cultures. It had excited her, driven her and simultaneously carried her along on its waves of momentum. But here she was now, picturing home, the leafy green grounds with their abundance of wildlife, the people who worked together as a team to keep the place going, and the people who she considered family regardless of their lack of blood ties. The cute pair of canine brown eyes that looked deep into her soul and comforted her when she was sad. And her heart ached.
