The Heir of the Castle (Harlequin Romance)

by Scarlet Wilson

  He snaked his way back through to her, a pale pink dress held in a plastic cover in his hands. Her heart started to beat a little faster and she was sure her eyes must have been as wide as saucers. ‘No. You can’t have.’

  ‘I can.’ He swept the dress past her in pleasure, holding it up under the light. ‘A genuine, replica Liesl dress.’ She’d never seen him look so pleased with himself.

  Laurie could hardly contain her excitement. She reached out her hands to touch the dress, then snatched them back again.

  Robin lifted his eyebrows; it was almost as if he understood. He slipped the dress out of its protective cover and held the hanger in one hand and let the dress rest on his forearm.

  It was the palest pink chiffon, as light as a whisper. Elbow-length chiffon sleeves, a tiny bow in the middle of the gathered bodice, and a knee-length swishy skirt. It was exactly the same as the dress in the film.

  There were no sequins. No floor-length glamour. No jewels. But beauty was in the eye of the beholder and it was the most perfect dress she’d ever seen.

  The colour was so pale. On so many other women the colour would completely wash them out. But Laurie had slightly sallow skin, and with her dark eyes and long brunette curls there was no doubt it would suit her to perfection.

  ‘Will it fit me?’ She was almost too scared to ask. She had curves. She certainly wasn’t the tiny frame of the actress who’d played Liesl in the film.

  Robin nodded with pride. ‘I promise, it will be a perfect fit.’

  She held out her hands. She had to touch it and she couldn’t wait to try it on.

  Her feet flew up the stairs even quicker than she’d come down. She slammed the door behind her and stripped off her clothes in an instant, sliding her arms through the delicate material.

  It fell over her head as light as a feather. Her eyes were closed and she spun around to where the full-length mirror was, praying inside her head that it would look okay.

  She opened her eyes. It looked more than okay. It was more perfect than she could have imagined. It was almost as if it had been made especially for her.

  She glanced at her watch. She’d only half an hour to get ready. She pulled the dress over her head again and switched on the shower. It only took her a few minutes to put her long hair in sticky rollers. There was a knock at the door.

  She panicked and grabbed a towel to hold in front of herself in her undressed state. She opened the door just a crack. It was Robin, holding two pairs of shoes in his hands.

  He rolled his eyes at her. ‘You dashed off so quickly I didn’t have time to give you some shoes. Take your pick.’ He held up the first pair. ‘Nude shoes—’ then held up the other ‘—or gold sparkly sandals. Not strictly Liesl,’ he whispered, ‘but aren’t they gorgeous?’

  He set them on the floor just outside her door. ‘I’ll leave them here.’ He sashayed back down the corridor as she clutched at her towel and grabbed the shoes.

  She could hear the strains of music downstairs. The string quartet had obviously arrived and was setting up. Robin had also left her a card with her instructions for her character this evening. She hadn’t even glanced at it and it made her feel guilty. He’d obviously just pushed the boat out to give her what she wanted. The least she could do was try and fulfil her duties for this evening.

  But the shower was calling and time was ticking onwards. She didn’t want to be late.

  She got ready in double-quick time, pulling out her rollers at the last possible second and letting her curls tumble around her shoulders. At the last minute she fastened her gold locket around her neck, giving it a little kiss. ‘You’ve no idea what’s going on, Dad,’ she whispered. ‘I just hope you’d approve.’

  She slipped one foot into one of the nude shoes and pulled the straps of one of the gold sandals over the other. A quick glimpse in the full-length mirror told her everything she wanted to know.

  The nude shoes were abandoned and the straps on the sandals quickly fastened into place. A little brush of eye shadow and mascara and some rose-coloured lipstick and she was ready.

  She read over the instructions on the card once more. She really didn’t have much to do this evening. A simple conversation with one of the other guests, which would obviously lead them to think her a suspect. Robin was planting red herrings all over the place.

  She didn’t really care. It wasn’t important. Not to her.

  She wanted to enjoy herself. She wanted to enjoy spending the evening in Annick Castle when it would look at its finest. Where she could imagine bygone eras and what the nights had been like for the people who used to be residents here.

  Where she could spend some more time with Callan McGregor.

  Where she could try and figure out what was going on in her head whenever she was around him.

  Tiny pieces were fitting into place. Callan had opened up a little, but after Marion’s telling comments she finally felt as if she could start to appreciate the loyalty he felt towards Angus McLean.

  It was exactly the same as the loyalty she felt towards her father. She had one final glance out of the window towards the sea and then walked across the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

  She walked along the corridor. How would she feel about going back to her flat in London? Being surrounded by the compressed air of the city again instead of the fresh coastal winds of the Scottish Highlands?

  Her feet carried her along the corridor. One foot in front of the other.

  One foot in front of the other. Much as her life had been for the last eight years. But was that enough? Didn’t she want more out of life?

  Her eyes had been opened in the last few days to a whole host of possibilities—both personal and professional.

  How would it feel to get up every morning feeling excited about going to work? How would it feel to be doing something else entirely?

  She reached the top of the curved stairways and looked down to the magnificent hallway. Which set of stairs, one or the other? And how did you choose?

  She glanced at the red-dressed woman in the portrait at the top of the stairs. Her haughty expression hadn’t changed. But there was more. Something else when you looked a little closer. Something in her eyes. Something pleading. Was it desperation?

  There was a shift in her peripheral vision.

  Callan. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. It didn’t matter which set of stairs she walked down. The outcome would be the same.

  It was almost as if someone had turned on a glistening chandelier in her head.

  The last few days had been the oddest of her life.

  Relief. That was what she’d felt as soon as she’d set foot in Annick Castle.

  No tension headaches. No aching joints or sleepless nights. Her stomach coiled at the realisation that was coming over her.

  She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t go back to Bertram and Bain. No matter what happened here.

  Just the recognition in her brain felt like a huge weight off her shoulders. The logistics of how she might do that were too complicated for her to figure out herself. She had ongoing cases—responsibilities to clients. It was only fair that she work a period of notice.

  The fear of stepping outside her ordered life was terrifying. She really needed to speak to someone about it. But who? Most of her friends were in the profession, and they would be horrified and try to talk her out of it.

  Callan. He was the only person she could talk to about it.

  He was the only person she wanted to talk to about this.

  And there he was—waiting for her. Everything about this just seemed right.

  She took the first step.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CALLAN WAS AGITATED. He’d spent the last five minutes walking about the drawing room, dining room and kitchen. Searc
hing everywhere for Laurie, but she wasn’t here yet.

  Everyone else seemed to be accounted for. Most were sipping drinks and listening to the string quartet—who were surprisingly good. Marion was a blur in the kitchen; service would begin shortly. So where was Laurie?

  For a horrible fleeting second he wondered if she’d decided to leave. To get away from Annick Castle and to get away from him.

  She’d left that question hanging in the air between them. She’d been disappointed he couldn’t acknowledge what was happening between them. And he’d been disappointed too.

  If he got her on her own again he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  The momentary thought of her leaving vanished as quickly as it had come. He’d seen the look in her eyes. He’d seen the way she felt about her surroundings. Laurie wasn’t ready to leave yet. No matter how many difficult conversations they had.

  Then he froze. There she was. Standing at the top of the curved staircase.

  Looking as if she belonged. Looking as if she was meant to be here.

  She was a vision. No ball gown. Nothing ostentatious.

  It took him a few seconds for the vaguely familiar-looking dress to click into place in his head. Of course. He should have known.

  He watched her carefully. She was deep in thought, her hand resting on the carved banister. She was taking long slow breaths, then her eyes met his and she gave him a smile as her feet started to descend the stairway.

  She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her shiny dark curls danced around her shoulders. The simple pink chiffon dress floated around her, emphasising the curves of her breasts and hips.

  But it wasn’t just her beauty that was captivating. It was something else. It was the feeling that she looked totally at home—that walking down this staircase was what she was supposed to be doing.

  He met her at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Should I break into song?’ he said quietly.

  He couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. ‘I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something.’

  He frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’

  She shook her head, making her curls bounce around. ‘No. I think for the first time in a long time, something is right.’

  He had no idea what she was talking about. All he could see was how happy she looked, how relaxed. It was almost as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. What on earth had happened?

  He crooked his elbow towards her. ‘Shall we go into dinner?’

  She nodded and slipped her arm through his. ‘I can’t wait for this to be over,’ she whispered in his ear.

  ‘Me either. Do you have anything to do this evening?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ve to have a conversation with someone and say a few things that will make them suspicious of me.’

  ‘I’ve to do something similar.’ They’d reached the dining room by this point and he pulled out her chair for her, ignoring the seating plan at the table. As she sat down he moved the cards around.

  She arched her eyebrow at him. ‘I’ve taught you well.’

  He sat beside her. ‘You have. I feel kind of guilty—I haven’t really paid much attention to what’s been happening this weekend.’ He didn’t mean for the words quite to come out like that. He’d been paying far too much attention to what was happening between them, just not the events of the Murder Mystery Weekend.

  He could see her pause momentarily before she took a sip of her rosé wine. ‘I haven’t either,’ she said, her eyes fixing on his.

  For a moment he felt relief. She hadn’t misunderstood. She was staring at him with those big brown eyes. He couldn’t blink. He didn’t want to do anything to break this moment. She knew he was invested heavily in Annick Castle. She knew how important it was to him. She knew he loved it with every breath that he took.

  So, to allow himself to be distracted away from the events of the weekend spoke volumes. He was only just beginning to realise how much.

  Laurie Jenkins was occupying every waking minute of his thoughts. She was burrowing under his skin with her questions, her logic and her passion for everything around her. Maybe he should be worried. Maybe, given the set of circumstances he was in, he should be acting with more caution. But Laurie was the first woman he’d ever really felt a true connection with.

  Of course, he’d had girlfriends. He’d even lived with one woman for a couple of years. But he’d never felt this. He’d never felt drawn to someone so much.

  And it wasn’t for any of the reasons most people would suspect. It wasn’t her connection to Angus—if anything, that was more of a hindrance than a help. And it wasn’t the possibility she could inherit Annick Castle.

  No. This was simple. This was all about her, Laurie Jenkins, and him, Callan McGregor.

  He would have felt this way no matter where he’d met her. Whether it had been some noisy bar in London or Edinburgh, or some workplace environment. The fact that he’d met her here—in one of the most beautiful settings in the world—was just an added bonus.

  One he fully intended to take advantage of.

  He gave her a smile. There was a whole host of other thoughts going on in his head that he almost hoped she could see. ‘I guess it’s only good manners for us to stay as long as it takes to fulfil our duties.’

  She nodded solemnly, with a wicked smile dancing across her lips. ‘I guess you’re right.’ She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, ‘How long exactly do you think that will take?’

  Their eyes met again and stayed that way until Robin clapped his hands together to draw their attention. ‘Good evening, people. This is the last night of our Murder Mystery Weekend. There have been more than enough clues left for you all to have some idea of who the murderer could be. I’d ask you all—’ he emphasised the word and looked pointedly in the direction of Laurie and Callan ‘—to pay special attention to the actions you’ve been asked to take this evening that will help all parties have an equal chance of winning the castle.’

  Callan felt a cold wave wash over his skin. Robin made it sound as if they were winning the lottery—not an ancient piece of history. He tried to push his thoughts aside. He had to come to terms with this. He had to move past this and accept Angus’s decision. The boxes upstairs flickered into his mind again. He had to spend some time looking through them. Not that it would make any difference to the eventual outcome.

  A slim hand slipped under the table and gave his hand a squeeze. Even now Laurie was taking his thoughts into consideration. The touch of her silky skin sent a shot of electricity up his arm, setting his senses on fire. And in a world of uncertainty there was one thing that he knew for sure. Nothing would douse these flames.

  He kept his voice low. ‘How quickly can you eat dinner, Laurie?’

  She smiled as a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. ‘Quicker than you can imagine.’ She looked around her. ‘This is my last night in Annick Castle. Let’s blow this place as quickly as we can.’

  She was laughing. She wanted to escape the confines of the dining room and their other companions and he felt exactly the same.

  Dinner had never seemed such a protracted affair. The food was as delicious as always. But every single mouthful seemed to take for ever. People were too busy talking to eat their food. In between courses Callan walked around to the other side of the table and had the conversation that his card had instructed him to. It was over in the blink of an eye. He made sure of it.

  And Laurie had done the same. But she didn’t seem to walk—she floated. Something was different with her tonight. And he couldn’t wait to find out what.

  The clock ticked slowly. By the time dessert arrived Callan wanted to refuse it and leave. But it was Marion’s speciality, rhubarb compote with crème anglaise and he could never offend her by not eatin
g her food.

  Laurie was more relaxed. She happily sipped her wine and ate her food, chatting to all those around her. By the time Robin announced time for coffee in the drawing room Callan was almost ready to explode.

  He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the open glass doors leading out to the gardens. ‘Ready to leave?’

  She flashed him a smile. ‘Around two hours ago.’

  ‘Really? You seemed so comfortable.’

  ‘I’m just a better actor than you.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Where are we going?’

  They’d walked out to the stone patio that overlooked the maze. There was smoke around them, a haze. A natural mist that was lifting from the sea as the warm summer air met the cool sea breezes. If he didn’t know any better he’d suspect some film director was pumping it around them to set the scene.

  But Callan didn’t need anyone else to set the scene for him. He’d arranged that for himself.

  He looked down at her. ‘In that dress? There’s only one place we can go.’

  * * *

  They didn’t even wait to walk along the paths but just cut across the lawn towards the stairs that led to the lowered gardens. His hand was grasping hers tightly and she could scarcely keep up with his long strides, the damp grass wetting her feet through the open gold sandals. As the grass was wet the ground underneath it was soft, her spindly heels sinking rapidly into the pliable earth. She stumbled as her heel caught and her foot slipped out of the shoe.

  Callan’s strong arms closed around her, catching her before she collided with the damp grass. ‘Careful!’

  He reached back and extracted her shoe from the ground, kneeling down to slip it back over her foot. His gentle touch around her foot was sending a whole host of delicious tingles down her spine as he refastened the straps. ‘Isn’t this what Cinderella did? Lose her shoe as she ran away from the ball?’