Chapter Thirty-One
Brann
B rann got out of the car in the driveway of Glenvorneth. The mansion house towered over him and he ground his teeth. Was he a sucker or what?
Rupert had phoned in a flap, begging him to finish the work in the attic, and paid up front. Brann would have taken savage satisfaction in saying no, but that wasn’t him. When Rupert said Ophelia had abandoned them for a ‘secret project’, as he named it, Brann suspected she’d gone back to Edinburgh. If she had any sense, she’d stay there and grow the design business she was obviously so good at.
Brann had agreed to fit the job in at the end of the week, but going back to Glenvorneth was not a prospect he relished. Rupert appeared at the main door and waved. Still dressed in his plus fours, he looked like he was auditioning for a period drama.
‘Hello, hello,’ he bellowed as Brann got out. ‘How are you? Busy, busy?’
‘Yup, I’m always busy,’ Brann said. ‘You?’
‘Lord, you don’t know the half of it. One darn thing after another. It’s been a bad year.’
‘Has it?’ Brann couldn’t muster a smile. This lazy man had done nothing, but he still had the nerve to complain.
‘It’s all about the money, isn’t it? Or lack of.’
‘Well, I built you a whole new stable block that was meant to bring in money. Your daughter renovated one of the workers’ cottages that’s meant to bring in some more. And we both did over the boathouse, which I understand was meant to be a holiday home with a fairly hefty price tag.’ Normally he wouldn’t speak to clients like this, but Rupert was getting on his wick with the I-have-no-money routine. This must drive Ophelia berserk.
‘Goodness gracious, you sound exactly like Ophelia.’
Brann lifted his tools from the back of the van. ‘Well, maybe you should listen to her. She has some first-rate ideas. Have you ever looked at her website?’
‘What website?’
‘Her business website. You could have her work her magic here and do all sorts to this place.’
‘Jacinta doesn’t want too much done, you know. She values her privacy.’
‘Then you’ve made your choice. No point complaining about not making money if you’re not planning to make changes.’
‘Hmm. You really sound like Ophelia. Have you been chatting to her?’
‘We’ve talked before, sure. We worked together on all the estate projects. Her designs were so easy to follow. I didn’t realise she’d done them until you told me.’
‘I know she’s good at her job, but I fail to see how overhauling this house will make any difference.’
‘It won’t unless you use it as a basis for something else. You need to let the place out, or at least section off part of the house and have luxury holiday apartments or something. But all of it means change.’
‘You and Ophelia should go into business together.’
It had been said before, but there was no need. Ophelia could do all this without him, but she came up against the family walls with everything she suggested. It must drive her insane.
Brann still had some work to finish in the attic, but when it came to the ceiling, he would contract a couple of other guys to do it. He hated plastering. That meant he’d only be here a couple of days and hopefully that would be the end of it.
He’d almost finished replacing the first beam when he heard the ladder rattling.
‘Brann,’ came Ophelia’s voice. So she was here. Fuck . ‘Are you up there?’
‘No,’ he replied.
‘Very funny. Come down a minute, will you? We need to talk.’
He rolled his eyes and lowered himself out of the hatch. ‘What is it, your ladyship? Have you come to sack me again?’
‘No. My father is paying for this. Or at least he said he had.’
‘Yes, he paid upfront.’
‘Well, that’s something. So, what did you say to him? He told me you had some great ideas and that we should work together.’
Brann shook his head. ‘We’ve already worked together. Not always amicably, but we got there. On all the projects, I’ve seen what you’ve been trying to do. I just told your father everything you’d attempted and said there was no point moaning about having no money if he wasn’t going to act on your ideas.’
‘Bloody typical of my father.’ Ophelia folded her arms. ‘He’ll listen to a man.’
‘I doubt he was really listening.’
‘Oh, but he was. He told me we should put our heads together because you’re a real “ideas man”.’ She air-quoted.
‘He has no idea what he’s got in you.’
‘He’s certainly never taken me seriously, and if he knew about what you and I had done… Well… Let’s hope he doesn’t find out.’
‘I actually couldn’t care less if he does. Your father’s opinion is worth nothing to me. I can’t respect a man who wants to sell his daughter to the highest bidder to save his own skin. He should thank his lucky stars he’s got a daughter who’s willing to sacrifice her happiness to make sure he gets to carry on doing what he does best. I.e., nothing.’
Ophelia drew in a breath and held it for a moment, staring at Brann. Maybe he’d gone too far, but how could he help himself?
‘Actually, you’re right. I’m not sacrificing myself or anything else for the estate anymore.’
‘Does that mean you’re heading back to Edinburgh for good?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I’m considering living at the boathouse and opening a branch of my business here. Not only that, I’ve got more ideas. Some of them are plans my grandparents started, plus I went to see Barbara the other day, and she had some ideas too.’
‘Ideas that don’t involve men with big bank balances, I hope.’
A small smile quirked on that beautiful mouth of hers. ‘No, but they involve a man with a big heart, and a big’ – her eyes travelled downwards – ‘tool belt.’
He cocked his head. ‘I assume you mean me.’
‘Who else?’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I need to talk to my financial advisor first, but if the plans are viable, they’ll involve a lot of building work. Would that be something you could do?’
‘I’d do anything for you.’ The words tumbled out before he could stop them.
She pressed her lips together and looked away. ‘I know you would, but I hate asking for favours.’
‘We’ll work something out.’ Dammit, he always gave in so easily. ‘I saw your business online. It’s quite something. You’re quite something. If anyone has the business skills to save this estate, it’s you.’
She sucked on her lower lip. ‘You think?’
‘I know. I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me before. Why not tell me all those designs were yours? They were fucking brilliant.’
‘I’ve got used to not talking about my business here.’
‘Timeless Butterfly Interiors,’ Brann said. ‘Own it.’
‘I guess I got sick of the vitriolic looks and snide comments whenever I mentioned it, so I stopped. That name gets a similar reaction to swearing in this house.’
‘Your family may be rich, but they’re so twisted.’ His parents hadn’t been great, but you got things straight. ‘They’ve no idea what they’ve got in you.’
‘I really don’t know how to thank you.’
‘You don’t have to. I should thank you for what you’re doing for Caitlin with the riding lessons.’
‘I’m hardly doing anything.’
‘But you’re doing something and that’s what matters.’
Their eyes met, and for a long moment, they just looked at each other. Ophelia’s gaze slipped to his lips, and he knew they were of one mind. He’d kiss her forever given the chance, but that road was too risky to stray onto again. ‘I gotta get back to the attic. Give me a bell when you have more concrete plans. I’m happy to help.’
He climbed the ladder, hauled himself back into the hatch and sat for a moment in the cold, fusty air. Where was this going? Maybe working alongside her was the best he could hope for, but really it didn’t come anywhere close to satisfying the gaping hole in his chest.