Chapter 82 Derrick
DERRICK
Scotland looks like something out of a Gothic fantasy.
Cold. Crisp. Gorgeous. The mood lighting, the low-hanging clouds, and the once green rolling hills are now stark white.
You can see the specks of homes dotted along the hills lit up like twinkling fairy lights, the icy winding roads have me holding onto Charlie in a death grip while Rowan navigates the turns like a rally driver.
Then we turn off the main road and head down a long road through the darkness, the daylight fading fast as snow starts to flutter down.
Apparently, this is their holiday home, Rowan says his parents live in Edinburgh most of the time, but they use this for holiday celebrations.
But when Rowan said home, he didn’t mention it was a fricken castle as we come around the bend and see the imposing stone structure.
I forget that the boys are gentry, that this is normal for them.
Charlie squeezes my hand in the back of the car. “You’re going to be fine,” he murmurs.
“I’m not nervous,” I lie.
He smirks. “D, your knee has been bouncing since we turned off the road.”
Fair.
Meeting your boyfriend’s family is one thing. Meeting your brand-new brothers’ family? The ones your own family fucked up is another.
So, yeah, my stomach is doing backflips.
We pull up along the circular drive, and Rowan welcomes us. As soon as the car stops, the front door bursts open.
“Shit, looks like Mum couldn’t wait.” Rowan grimaces as a gorgeous dark-haired woman rushes out dressed in green velvet. Rowan opens his door, and she hugs him tightly.
“You’re home.” She cuddles him tightly even though he towers over her. You can feel the love from that hug all the way through the car.
“It’s good to be home, sorry I missed Christmas.”
“Pish posh, you’re here now, that is all that matters,” she tells him as she kisses his cheeks.
Charlie opens the car door and helps me out of my safe cocoon, the action pulls Davina’s attention from her son.
“Oh! Oh, look at him!” Davina gasps. “He looks like you, Rowan.”
“I know, Mum.”
“Can I give you a hug?” she asks.
“Of course,” I answer, stepping into her arms, which are warm and loving as she embraces me.
“And is this your partner?” she asks.
“Hi, I’m Charlie, ma’am,” he says, holding out his hand for her, she ignores it and pulls him into a hug too.
“Sorry, Mum is a hugger.” Rowan smirks.
“Rowan, you made it.” A handsome older gentleman with a thick Scottish accent calls out as he hugs Rowan. Guess the family are all huggers.
“Guys, they're here,” I hear Callum call out as he rushes out of the front door and almost barrels me over in a hug, and then does the same to Charlie. He flips off Rowan.
“Derrick, welcome, it is so nice to finally get to meet you,” Lord Fraser says, greeting me with a handshake.
“Thank you so much for having us.”
“Anytime, you’re family,” he says, giving me a warm smile.
Technically, I’m not, but I appreciate the gesture.
“Derrick, you’re here.” Tavish grabs me, pulling me away from his dad before Arran comes over and hugs me, too, both acting like excitable puppies.
“It’s cold out, guys, let’s move inside,” Lord Fraser says.
“I’ll grab the bags,” Rowan states.
“I’ll help,” Tavish says.
The Sinclairs lead us inside their holiday castle, and I’m blown away, it’s gorgeous.
The foyer alone looks like something ripped straight from a period drama.
The ceilings are impossibly high, crisscrossed with dark timber beams polished to a warm sheen.
A massive iron chandelier hangs above us, dripping with candles that flicker golden light across the stone walls.
Everything feels ancient and grand … but also lived in.
Loved. Soft tartan runners stretch over the old flagstone floors.
The walls are lined with framed oil portraits, stern-looking men in kilts, women in ballgowns, and it hits me that these are their ancestors.
Actual ancestors. Not reproductions. Hundreds of years of real family history staring down at us.
A huge fireplace dominates the far wall, flames crackling warmly, filling the space with the smell of woodsmoke.
Someone, probably Davina, has decorated the mantle with fresh greenery, red ribbons, and fairy lights that cast little glitters across the room.
And despite the castle vibe, it doesn’t feel cold or intimidating.
It feels … welcoming. Cozy, somehow. A place built for noise and for family.
Charlie squeezes my arm with a quiet, “Wow.”
“I know, right?”
Lord Fraser is ushering us forward like proud parents showing off their home as he lists off the historical content like our very own tour guide.
To our right is a sitting room with oversized tartan couches, wool blankets draped everywhere, and a Christmas tree big enough to have its own postal code.
There’s a stack of board games, a whiskey cart gleaming amber in the firelight, and a black Labrador asleep by the hearth like he owns the place.
Further down the hall, the castle opens into a huge dining area, the table long enough to seat a small army.
A candelabra sits in the center, surrounded by evergreen branches and silver ornaments.
Everything smells like cinnamon, pine, and something delicious cooking, roast meat maybe, or some kind of Scottish feast I’m not emotionally prepared for.
My boots click softly against the stone as we walk deeper inside, and I swear every room feels like a secret revealed.
The ceilings grow higher, the hallways narrower, then suddenly open to grand spaces lit by firelight and lamps instead of harsh bulbs.
It’s warm, intimate, even with all the grandeur.
Davina turns back to me with a bright, excited smile. “I have a room especially set up for the two of you.”
“Hope you like plaid,” Arran teases, his mother shakes her head at his teasing.
I laugh. “I can handle plaid.”
“Good. I knew you had taste.” She smiles. “This way.” She gestures down the corridor. “We wanted you to have your own space, so you feel comfortable. And if there’s anything you need, anything at all, you just tell me.”
“Thank you,” I manage. “Really. This means … a lot.”
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “You’re part of us now, Derrick. And we take care of our own.” My heart cracks open right there on the castle floor.
Davina releases my hand and sweeps forward, her velvet skirt sliding against the stone floor as she leads us down one of the long hallways.
The castle somehow gets more beautiful the deeper we go.
Antique sconces glow warmly on the walls.
A suit of armor stands proudly in an alcove, polished to a shine.
A massive tapestry hangs along one side, depicting horses and a hunting party, and Tavish winks at me as we pass.
“That’s our great-great-great something-or-other,” he whispers. “Total dickhead, apparently.”
Davina spins around, scandalized. “Tavish Fraser Sinclair, mind your language in the house!”
“What?” He shrugs. “History’s history.”
Arran nudges him. “He means sorry, Mum.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Callum corrects, laughing.
“Boys.” Davina sighs, but her eyes sparkle with affection. “Honestly, Derrick, they’re feral.”
“They’re perfect,” I say before I can stop myself.
And they are. Chaotic. Loud. Ridiculous. But pure family.
Charlie slips his fingers between mine as we continue down the hallway. “You fit right in,” he whispers. And for the first time, I believe it.
Davina pushes open a wooden door with an ornate brass handle. “Here we are, darling. Your room.”
I step inside and stop dead. It’s … stunning.
A huge four-poster bed sits in the center, draped with tartan blankets and crisp white linens.
Candles flicker on the dresser. A giant window looks out onto endless snow-covered hills, the horizon glowing softly in the fading winter light.
The room smells faintly of cedar and something sweet.
There’s even a little basket on the bed filled with toiletries, slippers, snacks, and a handwritten note tucked on top.
Welcome home.
Love, Davina.
My chest tightens. Emotion crawls up my throat, unexpected and overwhelming.
“Do you like it?” she asks gently.
“I … love it.” My voice cracks embarrassingly.
Davina softens. “Good. That’s all I want. For you to feel like you belong.”
I swallow hard. “Thank you. Truly.”
Charlie brushes a hand over my back, slow and grounding. “Let’s get settled, yeah?”
“We’ll let you unpack and freshen up,” Davina says. “Dinner is in an hour. Wear something comfortable, we’ll be changing into our Hogmanay pajamas later.”
“Hogmanay?” I ask.
“T’was New Year’s Eve.” She beams. “The tradition is matching PJs, whiskey, and dancing until your feet fall off.”
“Told you she would make you wear matching PJs.” Callum smirks.
“It’s tradition,” Davina states. “You boys never spend New Year’s with us, you’re always off somewhere else more glamorous. So, thank you, Derrick, for coming when you did so that we can all be together. It means the world to me to have my boys home.”
“Mum, we’re men,” Arran corrects her.
“You will always be my babies.” She smirks, plastering a kiss on Arran’s cheek. This picture of domestic bliss is something I’ve always aspired for, for myself, and one I finally got with my friends.
“And now we have a new family member to keep the tradition alive.” Davina smiles at me. “This place is your home, too, you are welcome anytime.”
It sends me over the edge, and tears roll down my cheeks as the emotions I’ve been trying to hold in tumble out.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Did I say something to upset you?” Davina asks.
“No, not at all, the total opposite …” I tell her, sniffling. “I’ve never had this before.”
“Matching PJs?” she asks.
I shake my head. “A family. Love. Hugs. Traditions. A home. And yeah, even matching PJs.”
Davina’s mouth falls open, and she rushes over and pulls me into her. “I should have come for you sooner,” she whispers into my ear.
“You don’t owe me anything,” I reassure her.
“I was just a child when I ran, but I had hoped that maybe your experience wouldn’t have been as awful as mine.”
I shake my head. “Please, if I didn’t go through what I did, I wouldn’t be here today. Their hate, their coldness, their abuse, made me strong enough to survive them. I’ve never looked back, not once since leaving.” Davina hugs me again tightly.
“This is our second chance,” she tells me.
“It feels like it.”
“We love you, D,” Callum calls out.
“And we love you, Mum,” Arran says.
“Sorry to bring the mood down.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I am so very glad you are here. I’m not overwhelming you, am I? I just want you to feel comfortable, but I’m known for being a smotherer.”
“Smother away.”
“You’re going to regret that.” Tavish chuckles.
“At least I now have someone in this family who appreciates me,” she says, giving me a wink. “Now, come on, let’s leave the boys, we can smother them some more at dinner.” She ushers the guys away.
Once the door shuts, the room feels quiet, warm, and safe.
Charlie turns to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I will be.”
He smiles softly, stepping in close. “They adore you already.”
“I can’t believe how good they are. How kind. How … normal.”
Charlie kisses my temple. “You deserve all of this.”
I cup his jaw and pull him into a real kiss, slow, grateful, grounding. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Always.”
There’s a knock at the door, and I call out to Charlie that I’ll get it while he’s in the shower. It’s Davina.
“Sorry to bother you. Do you have a moment?” she asks. I open the door for her to come in. “I wanted to talk to you about …”
“My dad?” She nods. “I’m going to assume it’s not a happy story.”
“I’m going to assume you can kind of guess how it went,” she says sadly.
I nod. “I hated him. Still hate him.” Wasn’t expecting that opening.
“But I also can’t hate him because he gave me Rowan and Callum.
” I get that. “It still blows my mind that you and Rowan look like twins, it’s uncanny,” she says, shaking her head.
“You probably don’t remember me, you were just a baby, but I was assigned to your home as your mother’s helper.
Help clean the house, cook the meals, look after you.
” She swallows hard, and her hands tangle together.
“It didn’t take long for your father to become infatuated with me.
” Fuck. My heart is beating uncontrollably in my chest. “When I got pregnant with Rowan, I was seventeen. I didn’t know I was pregnant until I was almost five months.
It was a shock. When I realized, I told my parents what happened, and they didn’t believe me.
Your father told them I was the devil reincarnate, had come onto him, tempting him away from his wife, everyone believed him.
They tried to take Rowan from me, but I fought them on it until my parents reluctantly gave in.
But then, when it happened again with Callum, and the same excuses were made, my parents listened, and in the dead of night we fled with nothing except what we could carry.
” Shit. “It took a lot to forgive my parents for what they did to me, but as you know, they got swept up into a cult. Anyway, the point is, after coming back home with the boys, I met Fraser, who was a family friend who I had known my entire life. We were best friends. He was my first love. He was devastated when I came home with two kids, he thought he’d lost his chance, but one night, he found me on the side of the road in the rain having a breakdown.
I confessed to him what had happened to me.
He listened, and then he asked me to marry him.
He told me he never wanted me to feel like I wasn’t worth anything when to him I was worth everything.
” Fuck. Is she trying to make me cry? “I knew it that moment that man would heal everything that ever happened to me. I didn’t hesitate.
So, I guess in a messed-up way, if what happened to me never happened, we would never have left the cult, and Fraser would never have found me again, and I wouldn’t have found the love of my life.
” She gives me a watery smile before shaking her head.
“Anyway, not sure what my point is but …”
“I get it. Thank you,” I tell her.
“I just want you to know, when I look at you, I don’t see him.”
I still.
She gives me another watery smile and leaves the room.
“Who was at the door?” Charlie asks, walking back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hip.
“I fucking love you,” I say, bursting out crying as I rush into his arms.
“I love you too,” he says, sounding very confused, but hugs me tightly.