Absent in the Spring

by Carrie Elks

  Though his tone was teasing, he could feel his body hesitating. Waiting for her response. She’d run from him before – from New York and from Glencarraig – he wasn’t sure he’d survive a third time.

  ‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she murmured, reaching out to trace circles across his shirt-clad chest. ‘Why would I run from you?’

  But it was never him she’d run from. He knew that now. It was herself.

  It had been the right thing to do, not to chase her. And though it had led to two excruciating weeks without her, she’d come running right back.

  Thank God.

  ‘Love me, love my mom. Isn’t that what they say?’ He circled his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. ‘Doesn’t that scare you?’

  She lifted her head to look at him. ‘Should it?’ she asked. Two tiny lines formed between her brows as she thought the words through. ‘I’d be more worried if you weren’t close to your mother. I liked watching the two of you together.’ She smiled wickedly, looping her arms around his neck. ‘And anyway, my family is bigger than yours, so I figure you’ll have more to deal with than I do.’

  ‘Three more like you,’ he whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek. ‘I’m not sure if that sounds like heaven or hell.’

  ‘It all depends on the day,’ she said, her voice full of humour. ‘When we’re good, we’re great. And when we’re bad…’

  ‘It’s time to head for the hills.’

  ‘Stop it.’ She was laughing, her arms still clasped around his neck. This close he could see a line of freckles across her nose, teased out by the hot Miami sun. He could see how beautiful she was, too, with her supple skin and blue eyes. Her hair almost glistened beneath the afternoon rays, falling in soft waves down to her shoulders.

  She was gorgeous, in that perfect English-rose way. But her beauty went more than skin deep, he knew that now. It was in her humour and her sadness, in her bravery and her fears. It was in the way she always gave as good as she got, and yet somehow made him feel like he’d won.

  Leaning his head towards hers, he kissed the tip of her nose, moving lower, capturing her lips against his. He pressed his palms firmly into the small of her back, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of her summer dress. She arched against him, opening her mouth to let him, her body pliant, yet demanding more. And as they kissed, their tongues teasing and sliding in a way that made them both breathless, he realised that you can’t mend a plate with gold-filled lacquer until it’s broken, and you can’t have beautiful scars without being wounded first.

  They’d stumble and fall, and they’d scramble back up, dust themselves off and start all over again. But this time they’d do it together, which sounded pretty damn perfect to him.

  Epilogue

  Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, which in

  their summer beauty kiss’d each other

  – Richard III

  ‘Well, this all seems in order,’ Alistair’s solicitor said, passing the document to him. Thick pages of black type had been scrutinised and annotated, each one initialled at the bottom. ‘I’m happy for you to sign it.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Alistair asked, looking over at Lachlan. ‘It’s not too late to back out.’

  ‘I’m certain,’ Lachlan agreed. ‘Everything’s as it should be. You just need to sign and transfer the money.’

  ‘Very well.’ Alistair pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, twisting it until the nib came out. He turned the pages, then signed the last one with a flourish, dating it, then passing it back to his solicitor.

  ‘And the payment?’

  ‘Here you are.’ Alistair walked across the room, placing a Scottish bank note in Lachlan’s hands. He looked at the blue note, seeing the rolling Cairngorms mountains printed across the thick paper. ‘Five pounds, as we agreed.’

  The solicitor brought the contract over to Lachlan. ‘It just needs your signature now.’

  Lachlan took out his own pen and signed quickly, dating it then passing it back. ‘So that’s that.’

  ‘Pretty much. Some “i”s to dot and some “t”s to cross, but everything else is done.’

  Lachlan looked at Alistair. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Then let’s go.’

  The two of them stood, leaving the library and walking out through the kitchen door to the land beyond. A stage had been set up opposite the loch, with audio equipment and lights on the rigging. They made their way across the grass, skirting around the crowd that had gathered in front of it. Locals mingled with MacLeishes from across the world, creating a sea of blue and green tartan.

  As soon as they reached the microphone, Lachlan tapped it, a dull ‘boom’ echoing across the grounds. He cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the crowd, but he couldn’t see her.

  Where was she?

  ‘Good evening,’ he said, leaning in so his mouth was closer to the microphone. ‘First of all I’d like to welcome you all to the annual MacLeish gathering. It’s a pleasure to have so many of you here, from near and far.’

  A loud cheer went up.

  ‘As you know, my father, the Laird of Glencarraig, died a few months ago. In his will, he left the estate and his title to me. And though I was very flattered, and fell in love with this estate as soon as I saw it, I realised something.’

  He took a breath, scanning again. He could see Duncan near the front, along with his wife. And in the corner he could see Lucy’s family – Cesca and Sam, Kitty and Adam. But no sign of the woman herself.

  ‘The thing I realised was that I didn’t deserve this place.’ He waved his arm. ‘Or rather, it didn’t deserve me.’ He glanced at Alistair, standing stoically beside him. ‘An estate like Glencarraig doesn’t need an absentee landlord, or just to become another bland corporate retreat. It needs love and dedication, somebody who not only understands the land but its heritage. In short, it deserves Alistair MacLeish.’

  A hum of conversation rippled across the crowd. People were craning their heads to look at Alistair.

  ‘Like so many of you, Alistair’s connection to Glencarraig stretches back generations. And like you, he’s part of our blood line. And I’m delighted to announce that he has purchased fifty-one per cent of the Glencarraig estate, which makes him Laird of Glencarraig, and leader of the MacLeish clan.’

  A roar of approval followed his announcement, and for a minute Lachlan couldn’t be heard over the cheers. As the noise died down, he leaned into the microphone a final time. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m delighted to introduce to you Alistair MacLeish, the Laird of Glencarraig.’

  A movement at the back of the stage caught his attention. He saw her from the corner of his eye, his Hitchcock blonde with the steel determination.

  ‘It’s all yours,’ he whispered to Alistair, backing off as the new laird addressed the crowd. He walked over to the corner where she was waiting for him, a huge smile on her face.

  He stood and looked at her for a moment, taking in her golden hair, swept up at the back of her head, a few tendrils hanging down. At her elegant neck and soft shoulders, leading down to her dress.

  That dress.

  It had taken him more than a few phone calls to find the right person to work on it. And the cost of repair had been more than the dress itself. Yet it had been important to him – to them both – to mend it, and to make it even more beautiful than when she’d first bought it.

  When he’d presented it to her this morning, Lucy had called it a ‘Kintsugi dress’. Though the repairs were almost invisible, they both knew they were still there. They weren’t embarrassed about their scars, they weren’t embarrassed about their pasts. Today was a celebration of everything they were, and everything they hoped to be. Beautiful scars and all.

  ‘I couldn’t see you,’ he said, pulling her towards him and wrapping his arms around her back. ‘I started to worry.’

  ‘I was back here all along,’ she said, lifting her face for a kis
s. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt. And you were wonderful, by the way.’ She glanced down, smiling. ‘And the only man I’ve ever met who can make a kilt look sexy.’

  Lachlan grinned, following her gaze down to his legs. ‘Let’s not go too far now.’

  She reached for his arm, curling her hands around his wrist. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ she asked. ‘It must be difficult giving this place up.’

  He looked around them, at the lodge and the loch, and at Alistair standing in front of a crowd of MacLeishes and Glencarraig residents. He was talking about his plans for the future, for the lodge and the estate, and the crowd were lapping it up.

  ‘I’m not giving it up,’ Lachlan said. ‘I still own forty-nine per cent of the place. Plus I’m investing in it, too. I’m just putting the right man in charge.’ He reached out, tracing his finger along her jaw. ‘We’ll still come here to visit whenever we want to, and I promised Alistair we’d always come to the gatherings. But look at them, they’re delighted. Nobody could be laird as well as Alistair could.’

  Her lips broke out into a smile that lit up her face. ‘Then I’m happy too. Even if you are losing all your connection to Scotland.’

  ‘I don’t think so. My girlfriend still lives here.’ He traced her lips, curving up to her cheeks. ‘For now, at least.’

  She laughed. ‘Lachlan, I thought we talked about this.’

  ‘We did. When are you moving to New York?’

  ‘When are you moving to Edinburgh?’ She arched an eyebrow.

  ‘Touché. I guess I’m going to have to make an honest woman out of you before you’ll obey me.’

  ‘I’ll never obey you.’ Her voice was light. ‘You know that.’

  ‘Not even if I use the belts again?’ He pushed his fingers into her hair, angling her head up until his lips met hers.’

  ‘Maybe then,’ she murmured, her words vibrating against his lips.

  He’d settle for that. Not that she left him much choice.

  If she’d thought Glencarraig Lodge was beautiful in the early spring, in late summer it was positively glowing. Lucy stood back, her glass of champagne in her hand, and admired the castle, taking in the rounded tower and the leafy green trees that surrounded it on three sides. Behind it, in the distance, rose the craggy hills of the Scottish Highlands. Dusk was falling, causing the thousands of tiny lights strung throughout the trees to twinkle on, making the lodge seem like the setting of a fairytale.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Cesca’s voice came from behind her. Lucy turned to see her walking alongside Kitty, the two of them resplendent in long, summer dresses, their hair curled, their eyes sparkling. Like Lucy, the two of them were carrying a glass of champagne each – taken from one of the waiters, no doubt.

  ‘And so are you,’ Kitty said, coming to a stop beside her. ‘I love your dress.’

  Lucy smiled and ran her hands down the sides of her bodice. Had anybody ever given her such a thoughtful present as Lachlan? She didn’t think so.

  The three of them stood together, looking up at the castle. The speeches were over, and the gathering had begun. Waiters were weaving among the crowd, passing out drinks and canapés.

  ‘So what are your plans now?’ Cesca asked. ‘Have you and Lachlan decided what you’re going to do?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lucy took a glass from a passing waiter, lifting it to her lips.

  ‘You can’t keep doing this transatlantic thing all the time,’ Cesca said. ‘You must be exhausted.’

  ‘That’ll explain why she and Lachlan spend so much time in bed,’ Kitty said, laughing.

  ‘I told you, we’re going to be throwing ourselves at each other in arrival halls when we’re using Zimmer frames,’ Lucy said. ‘We both have careers to think about.’

  Lachlan walked up behind them and leaned down to kiss Lucy’s bare shoulder. ‘Don’t listen to her. We’re working it out. I can move some work over here, Lucy can shuffle some things to New York. We’ll be okay.’

  She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised up. ‘Is that right?’

  Another kiss to her shoulder. ‘Yes it is. I don’t want our kids being brought up with parents on separate continents.’

  Every time he said something like that he made her heart clatter against her ribcage. It wasn’t fear, though, it was anticipation, and the knowledge that this gorgeous man really wanted her. He’d touched her scars and he thought them beautiful – even the invisible ones.

  ‘Our kids?’ she repeated, unable to take the smile off her face. ‘We’re having children?’

  ‘Right after we get married.’

  ‘I love the way you’ve got it all worked out.’ She rolled her eyes at her sisters, but the two of them were grinning back at her. Kitty pretended to do a mock-swoon. It felt so good to have her sisters near her. All except one.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Lachlan asked her, sliding his arm around her slender waist. He must have noticed her change in expression.

  ‘I was just thinking about Juliet,’ she told him. ‘How I wish she could be here, too.’

  ‘She’s so upset she couldn’t make it,’ Cesca agreed, her expression as downcast as Lucy’s. ‘But right now she can’t do anything to rile Thomas up, not until their divorce is settled.’

  In the past few months, things between Juliet and Thomas had become irreconcilable. The sisters had spent long hours on the telephone or computer, talking about her options, and how he was using their daughter, Poppy, as a pawn to control Juliet. Lucy had wanted to fly over to Maryland to beat her brother-in-law up; not only had he broken Juliet’s heart, but he was breaking her spirit, too.

  ‘I wish she’d let us help,’ Cesca said, her voice quiet. ‘That place she’s renting is tiny, and needs so much work doing on it. But she won’t accept a penny.’

  ‘Look who’s talking,’ Kitty said. ‘You’re the one who refused any help when you were hopping from apartment to apartment in London.’

  ‘And you’re the one who refused any help from me or Sam when you were looking for an internship in LA,’ Cesca pointed out.

  ‘I think we can agree we’re all as stubborn as mules,’ Lucy said.

  ‘Yep, I can agree with that.’ Lachlan winked, and she rolled her eyes at him. ‘But that’s the way I like you all. Strong willed and full of pride. That’s the Shakespeare sisters all over.’

  He meant it as a compliment, Lucy knew that much. He’d told her enough times it was one of the things he loved about her. The way she never let things bring her down, the way she tackled life head-on. She was a fighter, she didn’t give up, no matter what twists and turns she encountered.

  ‘Hopefully things will be sorted with Juliet soon,’ Kitty said.

  ‘They will,’ Lucy said firmly.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Sam and Adam walking towards them, both holding a pint of beer in their hands.

  Sam walked up behind Cesca and slid his arm around her. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘It is,’ Cesca said, her face lighting up as soon as she heard his voice. ‘I was just wondering if we could get married here. It feels like the perfect place.’

  Lucy felt the excitement grip her. ‘Would you want to?’ she asked. ‘There’s a gorgeous little chapel in the village, and the lodge is perfect for a reception. Or it will be, just as soon as they get the renovations done. And it’s remote, too. Lots of privacy.’

  ‘When will they be done?’ Sam asked.

  ‘It’s going to take at least six months,’ Lachlan said. ‘Why don’t we talk to Alistair in the morning?’

  Cesca turned in Sam’s arm. ‘Do you think you could wait?’ she asked him. ‘It would be easy to keep the paparazzi away if we did it here. Between Lucy and Lachlan, they’d pretty much scare them off.’

  Lucy laughed. ‘Don’t be rude.’

  ‘I can wait if you can,’ Sam whispered, caressing Cesca’s face with his fingers. ‘Whatever makes you happy, baby.’

  ‘Maybe by that point Juliet’
s divorce will be final, too,’ Lucy said, ‘and she and Poppy could be here for the wedding.’

  ‘That would be wonderful,’ Kitty agreed. ‘It would be so nice to have all of us together for once. Video calls just aren’t as good.’

  ‘When was the last time you were all in the same place?’ Lachlan asked her.

  ‘It was at my wrap party,’ Kitty said. ‘The day Adam asked me to move in with him.’

  ‘I don’t think we’ve all been together since,’ Cesca agreed. ‘I mean, we’ve all visited each other, but not at the same time. Like tonight, there always seems to be someone missing.’