Coming Home to the Highlands, page 16
‘Aye, nae bother.’ He held out his arm and she linked hers through it. As they walked towards the door, she turned her head and saw that Mirren was watching them leave. She smiled at her, but Mirren’s expression was odd. Her brow was crumpled and her mouth downturned. Olivia wondered what she had to be sad about. She was doing her duty as lady of the castle, which is what everyone seemed to want. What more could she do? Or was it that Mirren thought Olivia was getting attached to a man she couldn’t have? If that was the case, she would have to prove otherwise.
The drive took them through darkening countryside as the sun had already descended below the horizon. Owls and bats could be seen darting around in the headlight beams and the moon cast a silver edge upon the branches of the roadside trees. Inverness-shire was a truly stunning county, regardless of the weather and time of day or night. A deer shot out into the road before them, its eyes glinting gold in the glare of the headlights, and Olivia held her breath, fearing it would get clipped by the car. Luckily the beautiful creature bounded off into a copse and Olivia relaxed once more.
Brodie and Olivia travelled in silence for a while but to Olivia it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It was companionable. Like the two old friends they were, relaxed in each other’s company regardless of the amount of time that had lapsed since they had played together as children.
Eventually Brodie asked, ‘So how are you finding your new role so far?’
Olivia heaved a sigh. Her feelings were incredibly complicated, and she hadn’t quite figured them out yet. ‘It’s all a bit strange, really. I still get a kind of sinking feeling when I wake up and realise I’m not in New York. But I’m sure it’ll pass. I’m just hoping there won’t be a lot of these kinds of things that I have to attend. They’re just not me.’
‘Aye, it must be hard to have left your new life behind. Do you think you’ll stick around after the two years is up?’
Olivia paused for a moment as she pondered his question. She had almost forgotten she had the opportunity to leave the castle again once things were up and running. ‘I haven’t really given it much thought, to be honest. I suppose I’m still stuck in duty mode for now.’
‘But your mum wouldn’t want you to be unhappy. And if New York is your happy place, then that’s where you should be.’
She decided to change the subject. ‘How about you? Are you coping splitting your time between Inverness and Edinburgh? It’s a long drive to be doing every weekend.’
She watched his brow furrow and he glanced at her quickly from the corner of his eye. ‘Aye, it’s fine. I don’t go every weekend anyway. So…’
‘And Mags is okay with that?’ Olivia asked.
‘Aye, fine. It’s all good.’ He turned to look out the window and Olivia took this to mean the conversation was over, for now.
Eventually Spencer turned the car up a long torchlit tree-lined drive and Olivia knew they were almost at their destination. She hadn’t been to the grand Dores Manor House for many years, possibly since she was five or six, and at that time it was for one of the McPherson children’s parties. Possibly Owain but it could have been his sister, Clarissa, who was a year and a half younger. She couldn’t remember much. All she did remember is that there had been a freaky-looking clown making rather rubbish balloon animals and performing tricks that kept going wrong. She was pretty sure, even at that young age, that his mistakes weren’t part of the act, judging by how frustrated he was getting. To top it off, he had terrified most of the kids in attendance and Olivia had had nightmares afterwards for days.
Spencer pulled the car to a stop and climbed out to open the door for Brodie to get out. Brodie then held his hand out to help Olivia. Once again, she slipped her hand into his and tried to ignore how nice it felt.
‘I’ll be available whenever you’re ready, Lady Olivia,’ Spencer informed her before climbing back into the car and pulling away.
‘Right, Lady Olivia, let’s go show ’em how it’s done, eh?’ Brodie said with a grin.
‘Show ’em how what’s done?’ Olivia asked with a nervous giggle.
He shrugged. ‘Balling, I suppose.’
She linked her arm through his offered one and they ascended the torchlit steps to the front of the vast manor house. It was Palladian in design, built around the mid-seventeenth century by some architect who had clearly been heavily influenced by the Italian’s work. A pair of Doric columns flanked the huge mahogany doors, and the fenestrations were of equal number on either side, in true Andrea Palladio style. It was a grand property built from pale sandstone and had been in the McPherson family since the eighteenth century, when, rumour had it, it was won in a card game.
They followed other arrivals and entered the foyer, where they were greeted by the warming and welcoming scent of cinnamon and cedarwood. Huge pillar candles stood atop mahogany stands and the light from them flickered with the breeze from the door, causing the crystal chandelier to sparkle like a huge disco ball. It was the stuff of fairy tales and Olivia watched Brodie as he took it all in. They were shown through to the great hall where a small chamber orchestra played ‘Autumn’ from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. No sooner had they walked through the double doors than Olivia was greeted with a sight she wasn’t expecting.
Kerr walked determinedly towards her with a half-smirk on his face. He was wearing his kilt in their family tartan.
‘Well, hello, sis. Fancy seeing you here.’ He bent and kissed her cheek then gave Brodie a look of disdain before turning his attention back to Olivia. ‘You could’ve come alone, you know. I did.’
‘Why are you here, Kerr? I had no idea you would be coming. And where’s Adaira?’
‘Me not come to a McPherson ball? How long have you known me? Good food, an open bar, lots of pretty young fillies. What’s not to like? Oh, and my darling Adaira has one of her migraines. I’ll tell her you asked after her. She’ll be touched.’ There was no holding back on his sarcasm.
‘Fillies, Kerr? Really?’ Olivia curled her lip at her brother’s vulgar reference to the women in attendance. ‘Maybe if you’d mentioned you were coming, I could’ve stayed home,’ she informed him with a huff.
‘And let your handyman miss out on a view of how the other half live?’
Olivia clenched her teeth. ‘Why do you always have to be so obtuse?’
He stuck out his bottom lip. ‘Oh, take a joke for once, Olivia. Anyway, I wasn’t expecting you to be here. I thought you’d be too busy with your grand plans to take time out for socialising.’
‘I don’t know why you’re wasting your time talking to him, Olivia,’ Brodie chuntered in her ear.
‘Aww, is your guard dog getting fed up already? Maybe stick him in a corner with a chew toy.’
Brodie lunged forward and Kerr stepped back, laughing. ‘Ooh, down, boy!’
Before Olivia could retaliate, Laird Hamish McPherson and his wife, Fiona, approached them.
‘Come now, Kerr, don’t hog your sister’s time, you see her every day!’ Hamish said before turning to Olivia. ‘Lady Olivia, we’re so glad you could come,’ he said, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘You look stunning,’ Fiona added.
‘She wouldn’t have missed it for the world, would you, sister dearest?’ Kerr said with a wink at her.
‘Absolutely not.’ She glared at her brother in the hopes that looks could actually kill. Then she turned to her hosts. ‘Thank you for inviting me. The hall looks wonderful,’ Olivia said as she glanced around at the fresh flowers adorning every available surface, and the artwork gracing every wall.
‘Oh, thank you. All in aid of the children’s ward at Raigmore Hospital this year. And who is this?’ Fiona asked, smiling greedily at Brodie.
‘Oh, this is the gardener from the castle. We like to involve the staff in everything we do, apparently,’ Kerr said, eliciting a kind of under-breath growl from Brodie.
‘Ignore him, he’s kidding around,’ Olivia said with a waved hand. ‘Fiona, Laird Hamish, I would like to introduce you to my good friend, Brodie MacLeod. Brodie, this is Lady Fiona McPherson and Laird Hamish McPherson.’
Brodie glanced at her as if unsure what to do but eventually held out his hand and gave a swift nod of his head just to cover all bases.
‘You make a very handsome couple,’ Laird Hamish said.
Kerr faked a sneeze and muttered ‘Bollocks!’ as he did. ‘Ooh, bless me. Allergies. Pollen, probably,’ he said with a smirk towards Brodie. ‘Please excuse me, I see a glass of Dom with my name on.’ Much to Olivia’s relief, he walked away.
Olivia relaxed a little, her shoulders distancing themselves from her ears at last. ‘Oh, no, we’re not a couple, just friends. We went to school together.’
Fiona’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh! I see. And what is that you do, Brodie?’
He looked a little embarrassed. ‘I’m a historical researcher, I suppose. Working at the cathedral just now. It’s only temporary, though.’
‘Right, right,’ Fiona said with a slight hint of disinterest. ‘Olivia, dear, you must come and say hello to Owain. He’s been so looking forward to seeing you. Come and I’ll take you to him.’ She held out her hand.
Olivia hesitated and glanced at Brodie, worried he would be upset at being abandoned so early, but he said, ‘Go on, I’m fine. I’m going to grab a drink and listen to this wonderful music.’
She mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and dutifully took Fiona’s hand, allowing herself to be led through the crowd of exquisitely dressed guests with perfectly coiffed hair and enough jewels to fill the Brinks-Mat warehouse.
Owain stood with his back to them as he chatted to some older men who looked vaguely familiar to Olivia.
‘Owain, darling, look who I’ve found!’ Fiona told him with a tap to his shoulder.
Owain turned and his eyes lit up when he saw Olivia. ‘Lady Olivia MacBain! Look at you.’ He bent to kiss both her cheeks. ‘I haven’t seen you in years. You look amazing. It’s so good to see you.’
Olivia smiled. ‘It’s lovely to see you too.’ He was incredibly handsome in his suit and tartan waistcoat, having foregone the traditional kilt on this occasion. He was tall, possibly six feet two, not as tall as Brodie, and his blond hair was short and neat.
‘Your delightful brother is here. Have you seen him?’ Did she note more than a hint of sarcasm?
‘I have, yes. And delightful isn’t a word I’d use.’
Owain laughed. ‘You too, eh?’ He stepped back and looked at her from head to toe but not in a lascivious manner. ‘I love that dress. Is it one of your designs?’
‘No, I can’t claim this one unfortunately. It’s a Nina Picarro.’
He widened his eyes. ‘Oh, wow. I love her work. I caught her Paris Fashion Week show back in March and wow. Just wow. There was this particular jacket that I just adored. A longline one with buckles down the sleeves.’
Olivia grinned, knowing exactly to which jacket he was referring. ‘Oh, yes! That was a masterpiece. I totally agree.’
‘Guys, give me a smile.’ Olivia turned to see a camera lens a foot from her face.
‘Oh! Erm…’
Owain pulled her into his side. ‘Come on, Olivia, let’s give them something to talk about, eh?’ He leaned down and kissed her cheek as the photographer snapped a few shots of them together.
‘You guys are such a cute couple!’ the photographer said before turning and making his way towards another group of party goers.
‘I didn’t realise your mother was having the event photographed,’ Olivia said as the blotches in front of her eyes subsided.
‘Oh, the press always attend. Apparently, my folks are a big deal.’ He shrugged and leaned in to say, ‘Lord only knows why having more money than sense makes them interesting. There needs to be a shake-up of the aristocracy, don’t you think? It’s all so bloody pretentious.’
Olivia agreed and laughed at his comment. She spotted Fiona across the room, directing the photographer who to snap next.
‘So, what are you doing these days?’ she asked Owain enthusiastically. He had always been into art, something they had in common.
He linked his arm through hers. ‘Come on, you haven’t got a drink, let’s remedy that.’ A waiter passed by with a tray of Champagne flutes and Owain grabbed two, handing one to Olivia. ‘Much to Mummy and Daddy’s dismay, I’m being totally useless and spending my time painting and sculpting.’ She giggled at the way he’d said Mummy and Daddy in a mocking tone.
‘What would they rather you were doing?’
‘Oh, you know, running some highfalutin corporation while my wife and 2.4 kids are being looked after by a Swedish au pair or something.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I know I have a very privileged life, but all this,’ he waved his glass at their surroundings, ‘it’s just not me.’
She related so much. ‘Yes, I’m just the same. I was chatting to a friend the other day who was asking me about marriage and if I was going to marry one of my own sort, or words to that effect. I was horrified. I want to marry for love, and it doesn’t matter what that person does for a living. It doesn’t matter how much money they have either.’
‘Great minds think alike, Olivia my dear,’ he said in a 1940s detective show kind of accent that made her laugh. ‘Seriously, though, we need to stick together. Are you free for coffee in the week? I could show you what I’ve been working on in my studio.’ He smacked himself in the forehead. ‘Good god, did I just invite you to see my etchings?’ He burst out laughing and Olivia joined him.
‘I think you did!’ she told him. ‘And I’m happy to accept. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll make it work.’
The MC of the evening spoke over the sound system. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please clear the dancefloor for the first dance of the evening, the waltz.’
‘Come on, Lady Olivia, they’re playing our tune.’ Owain grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the space in the centre of the room as the orchestra began to play Strauss’s ‘The Blue Danube’. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close as they circled the floor in time with the 3/4 beat.
Olivia felt thoroughly swept off her feet. Owain was nimble and elegant as he danced with poise and Olivia found it easy to follow him, even though she hadn’t waltzed in years. For the duration of the dance, she completely forgot about poor Brodie, whom she had abandoned somewhere in the room with his glass of Champagne. But she was having too much fun to let her thoughts drift to the man she couldn’t have and wouldn’t admit to wanting if pressed to do so. Owain was fun, and more similar to her in attitude than she could have ever expected. She abandoned all thoughts of leaving early and at the end of the waltz, she fired off a text to Spencer to say he could return for her at midnight, lest she turn into a pumpkin or however that story went.
A little out of breath, she informed Owain she needed air and to powder her nose and went on the hunt for Brodie. She owed him an apology.
‘Ah, there you are,’ she said when she found him chatting to a young blonde woman.
‘Hey, Olivia, you looked like you were having fun out there,’ Brodie said with a genuine smile and Olivia mentally kicked herself for hoping he might have shown a twinge of jealousy.
‘Yes, it was brilliant. I haven’t danced a waltz in… I can’t even think. Probably when I was a kid, actually!’
‘Clarissa was telling me how you, she and her brother used to be good friends when you were kids, just like you and me,’ Brodie said as he drew attention to the woman standing beside him.
Olivia turned to the woman and widened her eyes. ‘Clarissa! Oh, my goodness, I didn’t recognise you!’ She was in such high spirits she hugged Clarissa and thankfully the embrace was reciprocated.
‘It’s lovely to see you after all these years. How was New York?’ Clarissa asked.
‘Oh, it was wonderful. But… now I’m here for a while, which is also good.’
Clarissa leaned closer. ‘Your date is gorgeous, by the way,’ she said with a coquettish smile in Brodie’s direction.
Olivia waved her hand dismissively. ‘Oh, no, no date, Brodie and are just friends. He’s married actually, aren’t you, Brodie?’
‘Aye. That I am,’ he said before taking a long swig from his glass.
Clarissa pouted. ‘For shame! I was hoping we would be hearing wedding bells soon. I haven’t been to a good wedding for years.’
‘Ah, sorry to disappoint,’ Olivia replied with a side glance at Brodie who had his gaze firmly fixed on her and a deep crease between his brows. Why is he annoyed?
A dark-haired man came over and took Clarissa’s hand. ‘Come on, Rissa, you owe me a dance,’ he said as he pulled her away.
‘Oof! I guess I’m going! Lovely to speak to you! See you later!’ Clarissa almost squealed as the dapper-looking man hurried her away and into the throng of dancing bodies.
Olivia turned her attention back to Brodie. ‘Are you okay? Are you annoyed that I left you alone for so long? Because I know that was a bit shitty of me and I’m so s—’
‘It’s not that, okay?’ he replied rather curtly.
Olivia scrunched her brow. ‘So, what is it then? I’ve clearly pissed you off.’
He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw for a moment before saying, ‘It’s nothing. Forget it.’
‘No, come on, it’s obviously something. Please tell me or how will I be able to make it right?’
He looked around, anywhere but at her. ‘Why is it that your first words to anyone about me are that I’m married? Why can’t you just say we’re friends? Leave it at that? What has my marital status got to do with anything or anyone else?’
His reply irked her. ‘I’m sorry but you are, in fact, married. Most people don’t mind that information being told to others. I presumed you’d be the same.’
‘Yeah… well… Being married doesn’t define me. It’s not who I am. It’s just a thing that’s part of me. Part of my life. It doesn’t have to be the first thing people know.’
Olivia’s stomach roiled. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again. But… why are you so closed off about Mags?’
