Secret Things and Highland Flings

by Tracy Corbett

  To say she was out of sorts this morning was an understatement.

  Needing to regain control, she chose her blue 1940s linen suit and matched it with her polka-dot shirt in an effort to feel more ‘businesslike’ and less like the kind of woman who’d seduce the man she was working for. She tied her hair up and sent Tasha a WhatsApp message suggesting they meet for breakfast at Nanny’s café. Her sister was staying at the Tigh an Eilean Hotel in the village, so it was only a short walk.

  Cataloguing the Wentworth art collection would have to wait. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate until she knew why her sister was in Scotland. And there was no way she was having that conversation at the castle.

  When she opened the bedroom door, Mrs Jennings almost fell into the room. Had she been eavesdropping?

  The woman covered her guilt by straightening a picture on the wall. ‘Morning, lassie. I hope you slept well. Quite a commotion last night, wasn’t there? Will you be wanting breakfast?’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m meeting my sister in the village.’

  Mentioning Tasha piqued the housekeeper’s curiosity. ‘You should’ve warned me she was coming. I could’ve made up the guest room for her. But maybe you dinnae know she was visiting.’ There was a questioning look in her eye, which Lexi ignored. She wasn’t in the mood to fuel gossip. ‘Not very alike, are you?’

  There was little point enlightening her. Sometimes the truth was too far-fetched to believe. She left the bedroom and closed the door. ‘Any news on Louisa?’

  ‘She’s had a wee boy. Five thirty this morning. His lordship sent me a text. “The alien has landed”, he wrote. Cheeky blighter.’

  Lexi smiled. ‘I’m delighted for them.’

  ‘They’re calling the baby Oliver. A bonnie name, aye?’

  Lexi forced a smile. ‘Lovely. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Gilly, I’d best be getting on.’

  Gilly followed her down the corridor. ‘Nothing as important as family, I always say. Perhaps you’d like a bairn of your own one day?’

  So much for preventing gossip. News of her dalliance with his lordship had already spread through the castle. ‘My gallery’s my main focus for now,’ she said, speeding down the steps. ‘See you later, Gilly.’

  If she didn’t need fresh air before, she did now. What had she been thinking kissing his lordship? Everyone knew, including the staff!

  She walked across the bridge to the mainland, replaying the events of yesterday. There was no denying it had been a fun day. Picnicking on the beach had been both relaxing and enlightening. His lordship might be a charming rogue, but he had depth, too. Underneath the bluster and banter was a sensitive soul.

  He was well-travelled, he had a social conscience and he liked to help others. He was bruised too, fragile even. She sensed there was an honest heart tucked away inside that lying, cheating chest of his … But that was probably her hormones again, clouding her judgement.

  More likely, she was a mug who’d been seduced by his ‘woe-is-me’ sob story, and was an idiot for trusting him to do anything other than break her heart and leave her penniless. After all, she’d trusted Marcus and look where that had got her?

  As she walked alongside the rows of SUVs and caravans parked outside the holiday cottages, she watched two fishermen unloading their haul onto the jetty. A sign was propped against the boat. ‘Today’s Catch – Squat Lobster and Langoustine’. The smell of fresh fish filled the air, tickling her nose. And then she became aware of the sound of bagpipes in the distance. It was faint at first, but as she neared Nanny’s she could see a piper standing outside the café dressed in the full kilted regalia. A crowd had gathered to watch.

  She perched on a bench seat so she could listen, waiting for Tasha to arrive. The music proved a good distraction – it was haunting and poetic.

  Her sister showed up a few minutes later. Tasha’s presence caused quite a stir. She was wearing a black top with a skull-and-crossbones design on the front, black trousers covered in zips and her stiletto buckled boots. A huge pair of black sunglasses masked her eyes. The sight was so intimidating that the piper lost composure and hit a bum note.

  Tasha lowered her glasses and glared at him.

  His bagpipes made a whining noise as they deflated.

  Tasha often had that effect on men. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she continued walking.

  Lexi stood up. ‘Morning, Tash. Sleep well?’

  Her sister strode past and went into Nanny’s. ‘I need caffeine.’

  Well, that answered that question.

  Lexi followed. Why she felt guilty, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like she’d been expecting Tasha to show up last night. But she knew it had more to do with hooking up with unsuitable men.

  Nanny’s café was quaint and sunny. Wooden tables and red chairs were dotted about, creating a ‘shabby-chic’ look. A vase of bluebells decorated each table and the counter was filled with an array of baked goods, which looked amazing.

  The café’s popularity was evidenced by the packed tables, which was great for local trade but not so good when trying to keep a low profile. The patrons descended into silence when Tasha entered. Unsurprising, really. Her sister made quite an impact. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a walking holiday.

  All eyes watched them order breakfast.

  Lexi felt the need to smile at everyone and wish them a ‘good morning’ as she and her sister searched for a table at the back of the café.

  It was only when they were seated that Tasha removed her sunglasses. A waft of Valentino’s Rock n’ Rose Couture filled the air, mingling with the smells of baking. ‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ she said, resting her arms on the table. ‘I tried calling you several times yesterday. You never picked up. Where were you?’

  It was pointless to lie about what she’d been doing. ‘I was fishing.’

  ‘Fishing?’ Anyone would think she’d said she’d been ‘bludgeoning seals’. ‘Why were you fishing? Actually, forget that. Who were you fishing with?’

  ‘I think you know the answer to that.’ She avoided eye contact. ‘I went for a picnic, I bumped into Olly and he asked me if I’d like to join him. And I wasn’t avoiding you, I didn’t take my phone with me.’ She shrugged. ‘Not a lot more to add, really.’

  Tasha looked incredulous. ‘No, of course not, silly moi. Only the minor detail of how you went from fishing to hooking up with the blue-eyed hooligan. What were you thinking?’

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘I don’t know what I’m madder about. The fact that you’re risking the commission on this job by messing about with your client, or that you got sucked in by another lying scumbag.’

  Lexi flinched. ‘I haven’t been sucked in by anyone. And do you know how judgemental you sound? You don’t even know Olly.’

  ‘And you do?’

  The waitress arrived with their breakfasts. Lexi and Tasha simultaneously sat back in their chairs and faked a smile. The waitress looked warily between them before handing Tasha her bacon roll and Lexi her Scottish pancakes. ‘I’ll be back with your drinks.’

  Lexi nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  Tasha squirted tomato ketchup on her roll. ‘I’m not done arguing about this.’

  Lexi squirted heather honey over her pancakes. ‘I didn’t think for a moment you would be.’

  They glared at each other.

  The waitress arrived with their drinks. ‘How’s your food?’

  ‘Delicious,’ they both said in unison.

  The waitress looked mildly alarmed as she placed their drinks down, keeping her distance from Tasha. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

  Lexi watched her go, realising that half the people in the café were also watching them. She subjected them to a beaming smile, waiting until they’d turned away before taking a mouthful of tea and hoping no one had heard their argument. It was a small village. Everyone was bound to know the Wentworths.

  When it became clear showtime was over, the other patrons returned to
enjoying their food. Relieved, Lexi devoured her breakfast, which was mouth-wateringly good.

  They ate in silence. Not exactly companionable, but she wasn’t in the mood for one of Tasha’s interrogations. She was confused enough as it was. She hadn’t meant to kiss Olly. It had just happened. Her guard had been lowered. Impeded by good food, homemade ale and hearing about his sad upbringing. Was it any wonder she’d been seduced?

  She couldn’t even blame Olly. Even before the scooter ride she’d wanted to kiss him. Her resolve had disappeared when she’d nearly crashed his Vespa. Instead of being angry, he’d laughed. All restraint had melted away and she’d practically thrown herself at him.

  Tasha was frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Lexi looked up, surprised. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

  ‘Why did you groan?’

  She’d groaned? ‘No reason.’ She finished her pancakes. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re in Scotland?’

  Tasha took a swig of black coffee and then wiped a smudge of purple lipstick from the rim. ‘I told you why. I couldn’t get hold of you yesterday. I was worried.’

  ‘So you came all the way to Scotland just to check I was okay? You expect me to believe that?’

  Tasha shrugged. ‘I needed to speak to you about Marcus.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘I haven’t been able to track him down.’

  ‘I already knew that.’

  ‘Or the painting.’

  ‘I knew that, too.’

  Tasha folded her arms. ‘I’ve had the locks changed on the gallery.’

  ‘For which I’m very grateful, but again, something I already knew. It still doesn’t explain why you’ve travelled all this way.’ She reached across for her sister’s hand. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  Tasha looked away. ‘You’re going to hate me.’

  ‘Not possible. You’re my sister. I love you.’

  ‘I’ve done something bad.’

  Oh, hell. It must be awful if Tasha thought it was bad. ‘How bad?’

  ‘Really bad.’

  ‘Tasha, you’re scaring me. What have you done?’

  There was a pause before she answered. ‘It was me who reported Marcus to HMRC.’

  For a moment, everything around Lexi stilled. All sound disappeared. And then a burst of laughter filled the air, breaking the moment. A group of hikers had entered the café, chatting animatedly.

  Lexi pulled her hand away. ‘What do you mean, it was you?’

  Tasha fiddled with her chunky onyx ring. ‘I was scared for you. I could see Marcus was up to no good, but you didn’t want to see it.’

  ‘And you think that justifies reporting him?’

  Tasha shook her head, making her black bob sway. ‘No, but every time he did something shady you found a reason to justify his behaviour. He’d stay out all night and you’d believe his lies about working late. He’d disappear for weekends and feed you a load of bullshit about trying to find investors for the business and you’d shrug it off. Lie after lie. Everyone at the garage knew he was cheating on you with Cindy, but you refused to believe it.’

  Lexi couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  Tasha twisted her ring as if trying to unscrew her finger. ‘I tried talking to you about it, but you weren’t ready to accept the truth. I waited, hoping you’d finally realise what he was doing. But even when your car was towed away you assumed there was a legitimate business reason, even though debt collectors were turning up at your home.’

  There was a smidgeon of truth in what Tasha was saying. She hadn’t wanted to believe Marcus was scamming her. No wife wants to believe that about their husband. ‘That still doesn’t justify you reporting him.’

  ‘And then he stole the money from the sale of your Franz Gerste collection. That’s when I knew I had to do something to get him out of your life.’

  ‘But that was my decision to make, Tasha. Not yours.’ She yanked her hand away when Tasha tried to take it.

  ‘But he was using you, Lexi. He stole from you. He was dragging you down with him. I couldn’t stand back and let that happen.’

  ‘So you did something that jeopardised my entire livelihood.’

  Tasha’s expression switched to anguish. ‘That’s the bit I regret. I swear to God, Lexi, I had no idea the business wasn’t limited and you’d be jointly liable for the debts. I never would’ve reported him if I’d known.’

  ‘Is that supposed to make it okay?’

  ‘It’s not enough, I know.’

  ‘You’re damned right, it’s not.’ She banged the table, making her sister flinch. A few patrons glanced over, but she was too angry to stop. ‘I don’t care about the house and possessions, that’s just stuff. But I nearly lost my gallery, Tasha. Our grandmother’s legacy.’

  Tears pooled in her sister’s eyes. ‘I know.’

  ‘That gallery means everything to me.’

  ‘I know.’ Tasha wiped her eyes, smudging her black eyeliner. ‘I’m so sorry, Lexi. But I saw how much he hurt you and I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him pay.’

  Lexi rubbed her hands; they were clammy and shaking. ‘Is that why you’ve been so hell-bent on tracking Marcus down? Because of a guilty conscience.’

  Tasha stared at the table. ‘I was desperate to make up for what I’d done. I thought if I got your painting back it might help.’

  ‘You think that makes up for lying to me? Betraying me?’

  Tasha flinched.

  ‘All this time you’ve watched me suffer and the whole time it was you who sparked the investigation.’

  Black watery tears ran down Tasha’s cheeks. ‘I hate what I’ve done. But I couldn’t keep lying, I had to tell you.’ Her thick lashes were wet with tears.

  It was obvious Tasha was mortified. And Lexi knew she should assure her sister that everything would be okay and they’d get past this, but the words wouldn’t come.

  She was a hypocrite, she knew that. She was furious with Tasha for lying, but she’d lied, too. She’d never told Tasha about taking the twenty-seven grand. Her sister had no idea the Woman at the Window was the original and not a copy. She should confess to what she’d done. But she was too angry. Too hurt by her sister’s confession.

  But the main reason she didn’t want to confess was because admitting she’d also lied would ease her sister’s guilt. The tables would turn and Tasha would be as disappointed in her as she was with her sister. And she wasn’t ready to let go of her anger. Not yet.

  She got up. ‘I need to be alone.’

  ‘Lexi, please—’

  She walked out of Nanny’s, leaving her sister in tears.

  Lexi’s vision started to blur. Her chest felt tight and she felt sick. It was the same feeling she’d experienced the night she’d discovered Marcus’s letter telling her what he’d done.

  It was the feeling of betrayal.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thursday 14th June

  Olly shifted his weight, his leg numb from being squashed in the window seat for so long. He’d officially been left ‘holding the baby’ while Louisa and Harry had their much-needed heart-to-heart. The last three days had been stressful. Everyone’s emotions had been heightened, his included. And now, with a new addition to the family, the dynamics had changed again and they were all trying to adjust.

  None of them had slept much since returning from the hospital on Tuesday evening, which was par for the course where a new baby was concerned. Although he hadn’t realised it would affect him quite so much. He was just the uncle.

  It had started Sunday evening. One moment he’d been rolling about on his bed undressing Lexi, the next he’d been physically attacked by her sister and verbally attacked by his. He’d then found himself hurtling towards the Broadford Hospital on his Vespa, where he’d spent the next ten hours pacing corridors, waiting and stressing.

  Having been admitted to the delivery suite, Louisa had requested a range of homeopathic remedies all designed to e
ase the pain of labour. When nothing had worked, she’d resorted to hard drugs and screaming at her husband. ‘This is your fault,’ she’d bellowed at Harry. ‘You’re never touching me again!’

  Olly had exchanged a horrified look with his sister Sophie, relieved to be waiting in the corridor and not inside the delivery suite.

  Finally, at five twenty-seven a.m. the following morning, they were ushered inside to meet the latest member of the Wentworth family. Louisa’s screaming had been replaced by the sound of collective crying. First Harry, stroking his wife’s forehead and telling her how amazing she was. Then Louisa, blubbing that she was finally ‘a mummy’. Even the normally stoic Sophie was wiping her face and trying her best to rein it in.

  He’d been the only one holding it together. Until the midwife had held up the tiny bundle. At which point he’d joined in the crying, too.

  The midwife had placed a writhing Oliver junior on Louisa’s chest. His sister’s tears were mixed with laughter as she’d apologised to Harry for all the abusive names she’d called him. Harry hadn’t seemed to mind.

  But since arriving home, Louisa’s fragile mental state had been exposed and she was no longer able to hide the truth from her husband. The guilt she’d felt at not enjoying pregnancy had been replaced by utter joy at finally having a baby. Thankfully, she was totally smitten with her son. It was Harry’s turn to feel guilty. He hadn’t realised the extent of his wife’s unhappiness. So this morning he’d insisted on treating Louisa to chocolate brownies at Nanny’s so they could clear the air without being interrupted by their screaming son.

  Olly had been assigned the role of babysitter. A job that hadn’t been high on his agenda when he’d returned to Rubha Castle, but Louisa had had other ideas.

  ‘It’s a skill you might need yourself one day,’ she’d said when he’d queried the need to perfect the art of nappy changing.