“Explain what I did wrong,” he said, with a sharpness to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
She’d hurt him. She didn’t want to. She really didn’t.
It was over. What they’d shared had only been a casual affair. Their lovemaking had released a torrent of freedom to express herself more fully than she’d ever done before.
But the love fest did have to come to some sort of end.
“Goodbye, Preston. Thanks for everything.”
He didn’t protest this time.
She’d expected insults but they didn’t come. Or a guilt trip. He held his ground, stood tall.
She feared if he did say something, anything at all, her body would betray her and she’d run to him and bury her face in his embrace.
This time willpower overrode her desire.
Preston stepped aside and Cadence walked away, hips swaying, in the direction they’d come. Her shoes clicked on the solarium floor. He didn’t follow, which made her more angry, even furious.
She wouldn’t care about anyone again. She’d find an apartment in a little Tuscan hill town and bury herself in research.
She found her way to the elegant foyer and grabbed her handbag. Edwin appeared out of nowhere.
“Can I be of assistance?” he asked.
She shook her head. Not unless he could pick up the pieces of her heart and put them back together again.
“Just let me out of here,” she said.
He opened the massive door. “Good evening.”
She shouldered her bag, pulled herself together. “Evening, Edmund.”
Without looking back, she left.
* * * * *
Cadence needed to call Bryce McClain and let him know she was coming. If Preston wouldn’t help her, she’d find another way to contact her father.
What would his reaction be when she requested a meeting? What if he refused to talk to her?
A weird dissatisfaction, a premonition that going to Scotland was a bad idea, wouldn’t go away. Bryce McClain was her father but only in name.
He’d never be her father. He hadn’t given her piggyback rides or even presents. He hadn’t read her a book or tucked her into bed. These were precious memories that she recalled from her own father. Except he wasn’t her father, was he? He was some guy who had used her mother for his own gain and carried on with his assistant, had two children with her.
She sat on the edge of the bed. Googling the name had come up with a dozen McClains in Edinburgh. She’d punched in numbers on her cell phone of every one of them. No one claimed to know him. She left her cell number just in case their memories suddenly improved.
Why did everyone lie to her?
She took out the copies of the trust Maryanne Night had made for her. In the envelope was her parents’ marriage certificate. The church was in a town she’d never heard of. She’d go there and find out what the people of that town knew.
She was packing when the phone rang. She didn’t want it to be Preston. She didn’t want to argue with him anymore.
She answered.
“Hi, sis.”
“Cyrus. I asked you not to call me that.”
He laughed but his wasn’t a pleasant laugh. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Do you think?”
She would get so much enjoyment telling the slimeball off but she’d something more important to do.
“While you’re in the city…”
“I won’t be much longer. You can tell Victoria I’ll be out of the condo by the end of the week and I’ll mail her my keys.”
“No kidding? What’s the catch?”
Cadence exhaled. He didn’t trust her. “No catch. I don’t need the condo anymore.”
“Come into some money, have you?”
For a split second, she feared he’d guessed the truth. If he found out about the money, he’d find out about all the rest. She’d promised Auntie Anne that she would protect her mother’s reputation.
She had to think fast. “Yeah, a grant from the university to continue my research on Italian art. Not enough for you to go after.”
“There’s no reason to be nasty,” Cyrus said. “All I’m looking for is some family unity. You were the media darling when the mayor was alive. I could use your help. I’m going to run for mayor.”
“Not going to happen,” she said, “so leave me alone.”
“I could make it worth your while.”
She tried not to gag. “If you come near me again, I’ll file for a restraining order.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds you are an asshole. Wouldn’t that look great as a headline?”
She hung up before Cyrus could reply.
The balls of that guy, she thought as she slammed her suitcase shut and zipped it closed.
The phone rang again. Cyrus was getting on her nerves.
“Seriously. What part of leave me alone don’t you understand?” she shouted.
“Hello?” A man answered in a deep brogue.
With a rush of blood to the brain, Cadence collapsed on the bed. The voice captured her complete attention and she clutched the phone with both hands.
“Who is this?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“My name is James Fyffe. I’m a solicitor here in Edinburgh. Am I speaking to Miss Cadence Burke?”
“Yes.” Cadence’s hands were sweating.
“I represent Mr. Bryce McClain. I understand you are looking for him?”
Did the solicitor know why? She had to assume he did and yet she couldn’t be sure.
“I am. It’s vitally important that I contact him.” She fought to keep her voice from breaking.
“Indeed,” Mr. Fyffe said. “If you’ll give me one moment please.”
She heard voices in the background. Instructions. Was Bryce McClain there? She took calming breaths.
“Hello?” The voice was deep and masculine. She could hear the person breathing. “Is anyone there?”
“Yes, I’m Cadence Burke. I’d like to speak to Bryce McClain.”
“This is Bryce McClain.” The sound of his voice made her tremble.
“Mr. McClain? This is Cadence Burke. I’m your daughter.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time for your call.”
“You have?” She choked on the words. The familiar sting as tears threatened her eyes. She blinked them back. He knew who she was. Mother had told him about her.
“Indeed, I’m pleased to hear from you.”
“I’ve just found out about you,” she said.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Bryce McClain exclaimed. “How are you, lass?”
“I’m good.” She could hardly believe she was talking to her father. “I would like to meet you.”
“When?” he replied without hesitation.
She didn’t know why, but this voice, her father, held some kind of magical power over her. A strange sensation filled her insides. Anticipation? Excitement? Relief? Definitely relief.
All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure if she could wait until Friday. She wanted to run to the man now, grab him in a bear hug and have him tell her that everything would be okay.
“I would like to come to Scotland in three days if that’s convenient.”
“In three days’ time, you say?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
Cadence could hear a woman talking.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he said. He spoke to someone. Their conversation was muffled.
Cadence’s heart sank. Mr. McClain had remarried. He had a family. Had he told them about her? The last thing she wanted to do was cause problems for this man.
“Cadence?”
“Maybe a meeting in three days is inconvenient,” she said. She wasn’t prepared for the worst. “Maybe I should wait.”
“No, lass. You should come.”
“I’ll be there in the morning on Virgin Atlantic from New York.”
“I’ll send a dr
iver to the airport.”
“Thank you.” This time her voice did break. It made her sound weak and unsure of herself.
“Cadence, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for making the call.”
“You’re most welcome. I’m so happy there’s going to be a reunion.”
“Me too.”
She put down the cell phone. She was getting her wish but she was reminded of Preston’s warning. The meeting could be hurtful and disappointing.
She didn’t care. She wondered how many other things about her mother she didn’t know. She was sure there were things she would rather not know but to talk to someone who had been close to her, cared for her, would be an opportunity she couldn’t miss.
She stared at the phone.
What strange ways life seemed to twist and turn. She couldn’t help but think back on how her life had been only a few days before. Lectures, research papers, long hours at the university art gallery. The sad part was that she hadn’t even noticed how predictable she’d become. She had just gone on with her daily rituals, doing the motions, living a sheltered existence. And then in the span of two days, she’d discovered the man who had loved her mother.
Her father.
* * * * *
Cadence had dressed carefully. Not too dressy but not too casual either.
She wore a pair of black pants—slimming, she’d been told—and a simple pinstriped black-and-white blouse with an embroidered lily above her right breast. She slipped into a sensible pair of black dress shoes with a heel that was only two inches. If she became so nervous that she became clumsy, which could happen, she wouldn’t fall flat on her face and break her ankle.
She had taken extra care with her makeup and hair to make sure she looked perfect for the first meeting with the man who’d loved her mother in secret and who’d fathered her.
As she left passport control and immigration at the BAA Edinburgh International Airport, her nerves were close to shattering. She was really here. She’d really done it.
She searched the sea of faces waiting at the Arrivals Hall. A uniformed limo driver held up a sign with her name scribbled in black ink. A tiny thrill of relief followed by trepidation coursed through her.
She introduced herself.
“Welcome to Scotland, Miss Burke,” the man said.
She delighted at his thick accent. “I’m happy to be here, believe me.”
She followed him to the short-stay car park, where he opened the back door of a shiny black Bentley. She climbed inside. He would take her to her father’s house in the village of Alness, the driver explained.
Bryce McClain hadn’t elected to greet her at the airport, which she found odd, but she hadn’t come all the way to Scotland to complain or find fault. He had his reasons and she intended to respect his privacy.
She was so nervous, she really didn’t know what she would say when she arrived at his house. Should she hug him? Shake his hand? Call him Mr. McClain or Bryce? She slumped in the backseat, finally admitting that she was going to wear herself out with worry.
If Preston were there, he’d hold her hand, squeeze her shoulder and reassure her that everything would be all right. Her heart ached thinking about him.
She’d ended their quickie affair, not realizing how much she’d come to depend on him. Her emotions had come close to carrying her away to Never Never Land. He hadn’t wanted her to come to Edinburgh, had he? He would’ve prevented her from meeting her own father.
All he’d cared about was her money.
She was on her own, now that she’d put her fortune on the line.
Even if Preston cared for more than her money, which was a big if, he was a busy man, absorbed in his life in the city and dedicated to his profession.
Breaking off with him was in both of their best interests.
They drove out of the car park, under gray skies and the threat of rain. She watched out the window as people of all ages tramped the gray sidewalks going about their business. She saw a man in a kilt and couldn’t stop staring. How fascinating. How historic. She sat back and wished she had someone to share all this with.
They reached a gigantic roundabout and she clung to the armrest as the fearless driver sped around at increasing speed and popped out heading west.
The last few days, she’d been a whirling dervish getting ready. She’d slashed ownership of her possessions with the precision of a surgeon’s knife. Her furniture and appliances had gone to My Sister’s Attic. They’d sent a truck and two beefy guys and emptied out the condo in one afternoon. Her precious books and a few keepsakes, she’d put in storage.
Her friends had given her a going-away party. She couldn’t tell them why she was headed for Edinburgh, only that she was doing some personal research. They all seemed to accept what she’d told them. She realized how much she’d miss the people she’d gone to school with and the neighbors she’d shared many a Friday night meal with.
Before she left for JFK, she mailed the condo keys to Victoria. Curiously, she didn’t have any sentimental attachment to the place she’d called home for more than three years. The people, she’d miss like crazy.
And Preston? He hadn’t called. He’d realized their relationship, or whatever it was, was over. It’d hurt like hell for a few days but now there was only a dull ache where her heart had been.
She noticed how the driver kept glancing in the rearview mirror.
Of course they’d all be curious about who she was and why she’d come to Scotland. Would they guess that their employer had a daughter?
Would Mr. McClain even tell his staff who she was? He’d seemed friendly enough on the phone and she would even say eager to see her. Except he hadn’t been eager enough to come to the airport. He hadn’t made any effort to find out who she was. Look for her. Contact her on his own.
Had her mother made him promise not to find Cadence just as she’d made Auntie Anne? Why would she do such a thing?
The driver was watching her again.
“I hope that I’ll get a chance to explore Edinburgh when I’m done visiting Mr. McClain,” she said, trying to break the ice with small talk.
“Aye.”
“It’s a very ancient city,” she said.
“Aye. That she is.”
“Does Mr. McClain live very far?”
“No, not far.”
“I’m very glad to be here in Scotland.”
“Aye, so you’ve said.”
Cadence decided that she wouldn’t get any information out of the driver, so she stopped the one-sided conversation and looked out at the countryside.
They left the freeway and traveled a two-lane highway and countryside sparsely populated by neatly kept farms with freshly plowed fields. There were cows with calves and sheep with lambs in the pastures, exactly like the landscape paintings she’d seen in museums.
Several miles later, they turned into a long driveway lined by towering elms. It was very tranquil under the canopy of leaves.
They emerged to a circular driveway and a gorgeous stone manor house. From the appearance of the ivy-covered stone, the building was very old. The flowerbeds of tall daffodils were immaculately attended. She spotted, on the far left of the house, a barn. The barn was new compared to the home. She wondered if her father was a farmer.
Father. Calling a stranger by that name would take some getting used to.
The car came to a stop in front of the wide entryway. The door—fitted with cast-iron and a lion’s head for a doorknob—looked medieval. She’d arrived into another time.
Cadence pushed a button and her window went down. She took a deep breath and the fresh air seeped into her lungs and then flowed through her body.
The chauffeur jumped out of his seat and opened her door. She was terribly nervous but also excited. She exited the car and stood in front of her father’s house. Where was her greeting?
The chauffeur removed her luggage from the boot and set it on the ground. “Woul
d you like me to take your things to the house?”
“No, I can manage.”
He bowed and returned to his seat. He drove away, leaving Cadence standing alone. There was nothing left to do but knock.
She lifted the heavy iron but the door opened before she let it go.
Staring back at her from the door was a familiar face. Cadence blinked rapidly but the vision wouldn’t go away. Her world began to spin, she became weightless and then the ground disappeared from underneath her.
Chapter Thirteen
When Cadence came to, she was lying inside an antique room on a plush, maroon-colored velvet couch. She was reminded of castles and damsels in distress. Of ancient kings and their knights, swords gleaming.
The smell was infused with fresh flowers, and warm light spilled in from a mullioned window.
Where the heck was she?
She could hear whispers all around her, which confused her. What was going on? Then she remembered what she’d seen.
“Mother?” she asked shrilly, sitting up too quickly, and the furniture swam around her.
“Go easy, lass,” someone said and put a hand on her shoulder.
Her breath came in pants. Someone handed her a glass of water. She took it and gulped it down.
Cadence slumped back, her head sinking into a soft pillow. After a long minute, she looked around her. Hovering over her was her mother. A tall, bearded man stood next to her.
Her mother smiled. It was a smile mixed with sadness and happiness, perhaps even regret.
“Cadence, my baby,” she said as she knelt before Cadence.
She could feel her mother’s arms around her, warming her, but Cadence couldn’t believe she was real. It was a delusion. There was no way this was her mother.
Cadence shoved the woman away. She was older, with lines around her mouth and eyes. She wore her hair shorter and some strands of gray had appeared.
“But you’re dead. You died at Ground Zero. We had a funeral.”
“I’m very much alive.” The woman, this imposter, brushed the hair off Cadence’s forehead.
Cadence welcomed her touch, was comforted by it.
Oh my God. I’ve completely lost my mind.
MrTemptation Page 18
