But she had.
‘I’ve a good mind to call the cops—’
‘No police!’
‘But we could have him charged with unauthorised entry.’
‘He has keys, Tasha.’
‘So we tell them about him forging your signature on the insurance claim. And what about him stealing the money from the Franz Gerste sale? Theft is a serious criminal offence.’
Like she didn’t know.
‘That bastard needs to pay for what he’s done.’
What about what she’d done?
‘Please stay in Scotland, Lexi. There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll sort this, I promise. Okay?’
Tasha was right, there was nothing she could do. ‘Okay.’
‘What’s happening with the Spinelli? Have you spoken to the sister?’
On that subject, at least, she had news. ‘Louisa’s agreed to let me send the painting off for authentication.’
‘Thank God for that. You need that sale commission. Now more than ever.’
Understatement of the century.
‘She’s also agreed we can hold the exhibition here at the castle.’
‘Good. Focus on your work, try not to stress and under no circumstances get involved with the blue-eyed hooligan, you hear me?’
‘Thief.’
‘Whatever. He sounds like trouble.’
She couldn’t agree more. ‘I can handle Olly.’
‘You sure about that? Nobody tails someone all the way from Windsor to Scotland without an ulterior motive. And I’m guessing you’re it.’
‘Beg your pardon?’
‘For a smart woman, you can be very dim sometimes. Whatever he was after when he broke in, I’m guessing the shopping list changed the moment he saw you. As your twin, I’m aware this is going to sound vain, but men forget their own names when you’re around. Trust me, he’s after something.’
‘Well, he’s not going to get it.’
‘Good. And if he does try anything, I’ll chop off his nuts with a carving knife and blend them into a blue-eyed hooligan smoothie.’
Ouch! Lexi never thought she’d end up feeling sorry for Olly.
‘You need to steer well clear of shady men, Lexi.’
A life lesson, if ever there was one.
Chapter Ten
Saturday 9th June
When Olly was satisfied that Louisa was asleep, he tucked the duvet around her and crept from her bedroom. Closing the door quietly behind him, he then headed down the corridor, stopping to glare at the portrait of his parents hanging at the bottom of the stairwell.
‘Boy, you’ve got a lot to answer for,’ he said, resisting the urge to punch the canvas.
Growing up in an environment where love and approval were both limited and conditional had severely impaired his sister’s self-confidence. Why else would she be too afraid to tell Harry she was struggling? Pretending to be happy when she wasn’t must be exhausting. And it wasn’t like Harry didn’t suspect something was up. Louisa had virtually thrown him out this morning, insisting he visit his elderly grandmother as planned and assuring him she was fine. It was only after he’d driven off that the tears had surfaced. Unsure what to do, Olly had stroked her back and let her cry herself to sleep.
He headed across the inner courtyard. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt inadequate as a brother. He should be doing more. But he was clueless when it came to playing ‘happy families’. Should he tell Harry, or keep quiet? Maybe Louisa needed to see her GP? Perhaps he should confide in Sophie? Not that his older sister was the touchy-feely type, but she cared a lot about Louisa. She’d want to know if her younger sister was unhappy. There were too many questions and not enough answers. It was too much for his brain to cope with.
He skipped up the stairs to the kitchen, surprised to find Lexi standing at the ceramic sink washing-up. The sleeves of her retro pink top were rolled up and her hair was loose and wavy. Mrs Jennings, she wasn’t.
‘What are you doing?’ he said, trying not to focus on the way her narrow jeans hugged her backside. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
She rinsed the plates. ‘It’s no bother. Mrs Jennings wasn’t around. I felt bad about leaving my breakfast things on the side.’
‘She’s visiting her sister in Edinburgh. She’ll be back tomorrow night.’
‘Even more reason not to leave dirty plates lying around. How’s Louisa? She looked tired last night.’
His sister wasn’t the only one. There was something off about Lexi today. She looked troubled. Her expression lacked its usual spark.
He opened the fridge door. ‘She’s okay. Nothing a chocolate brownie won’t fix. I’m hoping Gilly made some before she left, they’re Louisa’s favourite.’ He searched the containers in the fridge. Soup. Casserole. Lasagne. Ready-made sandwiches but no brownies.
‘Find anything?’
‘Nope.’ He looked in the larder. Banana bread and scones, but still no brownies. ‘I’ll head into the village later and see if I can get some from Nanny’s.’
She dried the plates. ‘You obviously care a lot about your sister.’
He went over and took the plates from her. ‘No need to sound so surprised. I’m not the villain you think I am.’ He nodded to his arm. ‘Unlike some people I know, I’ve never stabbed anyone.’
He was expecting a feisty comeback. Instead, she grimaced. ‘How is it?’
‘Better now I’ve had the stitches removed.’
Guilt clouded her face. ‘I’m really sorry. I feel awful.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I deserved it.’ He put the plates away. Something was definitely wrong. Perhaps she needed provoking? ‘You could make it up to me, you know.’
Her guilty expression switched to one of suspicion. ‘How?’
‘By handing over the painting. I know you haven’t given it to Louisa yet.’
‘You’re right, I haven’t. She asked me to hold on to it until after the baby’s born.’
He frowned. ‘Why?’
‘In case she forgets where she put it. Like you said, baby brain.’
She broke eye contact but her left eye had started twitching. There was more to this than she was letting on.
‘Have you been in touch with Tom yet? I’m keen to speak to him.’
It was his turn to bluff. ‘Not yet. He’s … abroad, travelling.’
‘A recluse who travels?’
‘Yeah … he’s an enigma like that.’
She frowned. ‘Surely he’s contactable?’
‘Unfortunately not. He’s in a remote area of …’ He looked around the kitchen and spotted a jar of garam masala. ‘India. No phone signal. Or email.’
She frowned. ‘Then how do you know where he is?’
Crap. ‘He sent a postcard.’
She raised an eyebrow. Clearly, she didn’t believe him.
He couldn’t blame her. It was time to change topic. Provoking her was proving dangerous. ‘What have you got planned for today?’
She leant against the sink. ‘Well, as it’s the weekend, I thought I’d take some time off. It seems criminal to come all this way and not explore.’
‘I agree. Well, have fun.’ But then he was struck by an idea. It wasn’t like he had plans today. And Louisa was asleep, so she didn’t need him yet. He turned to Lexi. ‘Actually, would you like the guided tour?’
Her surprised expression switched to confusion, quickly followed by suspicion. He was sure she was about to refuse him, when she surprised him by saying, ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘You know this place better than anyone.’
As much as anyone who’d been absent for eleven years. ‘Come on, then.’
She followed him down the steps into the courtyard. ‘Where do we start?’
‘The west guard tower.’
‘Will I need a jacket?’
He pointed skywards. ‘The sun’s shining.’
‘But there are dark clouds looming.’
‘It’s Scotland. There are always dark clouds looming. Live dangerously.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Words no woman ever wants to hear.’
He laughed.
They entered the tower room and he led her over to the glass cabinet fixed to the wall. ‘See that small piece of tartan? It’s believed to have been worn by Bonnie Prince Charlie when he led the last Jacobite uprising in 1745.’
She peered into the glass, her eyes travelling over the various ancient weapons and memorabilia. ‘That’s quite a collection.’
‘Impressive, huh?’ He beckoned her over. ‘This way.’
She followed him down the narrow staircase leading to the sea gate.
‘The tower used to be a jail,’ he said, pointing to the iron restraints attached to the wall. He stepped onto the ledge and pointed down. ‘Prisoners were pushed from this point into the loch. If they survived and swam to shore they were shown mercy and allowed to escape.’
She peered over, gripping hold of the rail. ‘Harsh.’
He opened the gate.
‘Don’t even think of pushing me in.’
‘As if.’ He grinned. ‘This way.’
They descended the steps and he took her past the field guns on display outside the castle.
She squinted up at the coat of arms attached to the wall. ‘Is that the Wentworth crest?’
He nodded. ‘It’s inscribed with the family motto, candide secure.’
‘I’m rubbish at Latin. What does it mean?’
‘Honesty is the best policy.’
A beat passed before she burst out laughing. ‘Seriously? Your family motto is honesty is the best policy?’ She doubled over, resting her hands on her knees.
He might have enjoyed watching her laugh if he wasn’t the cause of her mirth.
She wiped tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, the irony.’
He folded his arms. ‘Are you done?’
‘That’s the best laugh I’ve had in ages.’
‘Glad I amuse you.’
She was still giggling as they headed away from the castle. At least her spark was back.
Her laughter only died when they approached the wooden outbuildings. A frown crept over her face as the farmyard smells permeated the air. She stopped walking. ‘Animals?’
He nodded.
She looked wary. ‘What kind?’
‘All sorts.’ He gestured to a stable door. ‘Want me to let them out?’
‘No way.’ She stepped back.
He opened the top half of the door. ‘I promise they don’t bite.’
She edged closer.
‘Although the llama does spit,’ he added, just as she stuck her head through the doorway.
She retreated so fast she almost fell over.
‘Don’t worry, these are alpacas.’
She glared at him and then tentatively peered inside the shed. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, but she was smiling. ‘They look like they’re wearing furry trousers. What are their names?’
‘Buddy and Holly.’ When she raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. ‘My sister’s mind is a varied and fascinating place.’ He moved on to the next shed. ‘This is the llama. He’s the one who spits, but only when he’s nervous, so try not to look threatening.’
‘Is it okay if I look scared?’
‘Scared is fine.’ He opened the door. ‘Meet Dalai.’
She was laughing before she even saw the animal. ‘The Dalai llama?’
He motioned for her to step closer. ‘You’ll be okay. He looks calm today.’ The llama was standing at the back of the shed, eating from a bucket attached to the wall. ‘He might look tough, but he’s a big softy, really.’
‘A softy that spits.’
‘Only when he’s threatened.’ He turned to look at her. ‘He reminds me of someone.’
‘I won’t dignify that with a response.’ She raised her chin and walked over to the next door. ‘What’s in here?’
He opened the shed housing the lambs and piglets. The animals started squealing the moment they came into view. He reached into a pen and picked up a piglet. ‘Would you like a cuddle?’
‘No, thanks.’ She watched him cradle the piglet. ‘Do they have names, too?’
He nodded. ‘I can’t for the life of me remember them all. I know one’s called Butty.’
She looked alarmed. ‘As in …?’ When he nodded, she said, ‘That’s sick.’
‘We never eat any of our animals, Louisa’s rules. They’re just pets.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
He lifted the piglet to eyelevel. ‘Not a very cost-effective way to run a farm though, is it, Butty? Or whoever you are.’ He placed the piglet back in the pen. ‘Would you like to see the deer?’
She visibly swallowed. ‘Oh, my God. You have deer?’
‘This way.’ He crooked his finger. ‘We need transportation.’
‘You’re not going to make me ride a horse, are you?’
He laughed. ‘Not today.’
Her eyes grew wide when she realised they were headed for a tractor. ‘Do you have a step ladder?’
‘No need.’ Before she could protest, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up, depositing her on the seat. It was worth it to see the look on her face.
‘Thank you,’ she said, swinging her legs around. ‘I think.’
He climbed in beside her. ‘Hold on.’
She startled at the engine noise, gripping the seat as they pulled away.
The ground was muddy and uneven, making progress slow, but once they were on flatter grassland the wheels gripped and the tractor steadied. He took the scenic route, zigzagging his way around the edge of the island so she could see the loch at its best.
She adjusted to the rhythm and relaxed a little, fascinated by the views, craning her head one way and then the other, trying to see everything.
‘The grounds are bigger than I imagined!’ she shouted over the engine noise.
When they reached the top end of the island, he nudged her. ‘Look.’
She followed to where he was pointing.
He knew it was an impressive sight, but it was nice to see the look on her face just the same. That first glimpse of the deer huddled together, their red coats glowing in the sunshine, was a sight to behold. He eased the tractor to a halt.
When the engine noise died, she said, ‘Isn’t it safe to go any closer?’
‘It’s better to let them come to us. The noise can startle them. They know the drill. The tractor indicates food. It won’t take them long to spot us.’
The herd began to wander over.
She leant forwards in the cab. ‘Look at the size of their antlers! They’re so beautiful.’ Her face was animated and excited. He found himself watching her rather than the deer, only snapping out of his trance when she said, ‘That one looks like Bambi.’
He dragged his attention back to the deer. ‘That’s an axis.’
She glanced at him. ‘What’s an axis?’
‘One of the breeds. There are four types. Red deer, fallow, sika and axis. Most of these are red deer, you can tell by their colouring, plus they’re bigger than the others.’
‘There’re so many of them.’
‘This is only about half. The fallow deer tend to stick to the lower ground this time of day.’
The deer reached the tractor. They piled closer, no fear, only a desire for feed. Lexi had a look of pure wonder on her face as they jostled for position.
He jumped from the tractor and climbed into the trailer behind.
She twisted in her seat, watching as he scooped up handfuls of feed. ‘Won’t they bite?’
‘Not intentionally. They don’t have very sharp teeth. It doesn’t hurt even if they do accidentally nip. Would you like to help?’
‘No, thanks. I’d rather just watch you.’
I’d rather just watch you too, he almost said, before his brain reminded his mouth that would be a bad idea. ‘It’s okay to touch them,’ he assured her. ‘Their coat’s
really soft.’
She reached out and cautiously touched one of the does. ‘He’s so soft.’
‘She.’
‘Oh.’ She looked at the herd. ‘Are the males the ones with antlers?’
‘Not always, it varies from species to species.’ He nodded to the stag nuzzling his hand. ‘This big fella here’s the new alpha male.’
She stared at his large antlers. ‘What happened to the old one?’
‘Roy challenged him for the position and won.’ He grabbed another handful of feed and threw it some distance, giving the calves an opportunity to feed. ‘Louisa was in bits. Westley had been the alpha for years. She adored him. It was very violent, by all accounts.’
‘You didn’t see it?’
‘It was before I came back.’
‘Came back? Where had you been?’
It was an innocent enough question, but he flinched just the same. He’d forgotten she didn’t know about his extended absence. Why would she? ‘I moved away for a while.’ He reached out to touch the antlers. ‘You wouldn’t believe it to touch them, they feel so soft, but they can do a lot of damage.’
She shuffled back in her seat. ‘I thought you said they didn’t bite?’
‘They don’t, but they do rut. There’s only one alpha in a pack, so occasionally you get a challenge for the leadership. That’s when things get nasty. Most of the year you can mingle with them and stroke them, they’re as placid as anything. It’s only during October when the stags’ antlers are fully developed that you don’t want to get in their way.’
She looked alarmed. ‘Thank goodness it’s only June.’
He picked up a smaller bag of feed and jumped off the back of the trailer, coming around to climb in next to her.
‘What are you doing?’ she said when he nudged her towards the edge of the seat.
He filled her hands with feed. ‘This is something you should experience.’
‘What, being impaled by antlers? Or getting my fingers bitten off?’
‘I told you, they don’t bite. Keep your palms flat and tuck your thumb in. That’s it, now hold your hand out slowly.’
Secret Things and Highland Flings Page 12
