Chapter 38
‘To Bex’s first Burns Night!’ Lorna said, lifting her glass into the centre of the group.
‘Bex’s first Burns Night.’
‘Bex’s first Burns Night!’
‘My first Burns Night!’
The four of them clinked their glasses together before taking a sip of the bubbles.
The evening had rolled around fast and with it the knowledge that she was going to head to the castle and may or may not see Duncan again.
All afternoon, as Bex had sat in the hairdresser’s chair, and then as one of Lorna’s friends – who was studying at make-up college – applied her lip liner, and even as she’d had Eilidh perfectly fix the purple tartan over her shoulder, Bex’s mind had been trapped back in that moment with Duncan.
What would’ve happened if Lorna hadn’t arrived home when she did?
she wondered, although it wasn’t a question that required much thought.
She would’ve kissed him, for certain. That was what she’d wanted to do.
But it still didn’t change that seed of doubt at the bottom of her stomach.
Duncan said he would change to be with her.
That he would get past his fears. And she didn’t doubt that he would try.
But that couldn’t change the fact that their lives were in different parts of the country.
Somehow she didn’t think him getting over his fears would be enough for him to become a city dweller.
So maybe the fact they hadn’t kissed was a good thing.
Maybe it would’ve just added more complications to the matter.
Maybe he would simply always be the one that got away.
Like Fergus, and the love of his life. No, of course it wasn’t the same, but she couldn’t help feel a sad parallel between the situations.
With the way her heart continued to throb, Bex could have lost hours reliving that near-kiss moment but now they were dressed, hair styled, make-up applied, and gathered at Lorna’s cottage, ready for the evening.
And the last thing she wanted to do was bring down her friends’ moods with her own consternation.
Besides, it was Burns Night. She wanted to enjoy it.
‘So, how do you feel?’ Eilidh asked.
‘Nervous,’ Bex replied truthfully.
‘I meant about the outfit, not about tonight.’
‘Oh.’ Bex laughed as she took a drink before brushing a hand down the silky black fabric. ‘It’s perfect. Beyond perfect. I don’t know how you’re not showing your clothes at Paris fashion week already.’
Eilidh scoffed. ‘It’s not that special.’
‘It is. It really is,’ Bex insisted.
The design was simple, yet incredibly elegant – a black dress with a plunging cowl neckline and low back, while the tartan which was draped over her shoulders was fixed with a simple silver pin. It wasn’t the V-neck she’d suggested; instead, it was infinitely more elegant.
‘So, remind me. What happens when we get there?’ she asked the group. ‘I know there’s dinner, but did I read something about poems too?’
‘Poems and reading, then whisky, and then dancing. Lots and lots of dancing,’ Niall replied.
He was dressed in full tartan, complete with a kilt, and looked utterly dashing.
From the way Eilidh couldn’t keep her eyes off him, Bex suspected she felt the same.
Maybe if there was enough whisky flowing, the two of them would finally own up to their feelings, but she doubted it.
They’d had plenty of drunk opportunities to do so before, though Bex couldn’t help but keep her fingers crossed.
At least one of their group could do with their happily ever after.
‘Right, well, our lift’s gonna be here in five,’ Eilidh said. ‘We better drink up.’
‘Roddy?’ Bex asked, in reference to the lift.
‘Obviously.’ Lorna grinned back.
Roddy was the village dogsbody. He had originally worked for Fergus but often ended up doing whatever jobs needed to be done.
He was the one who had driven Duncan and Bex back from their first official date and dropped them back at Duncan’s lodge.
He’d also dropped lunches in for Bex at the castle when Duncan hadn’t been able to make it.
He was a good bloke, and normally, she liked him, though when he picked them all up in their Burns Night’s outfits, he immediately looked at Bex.
‘Heard you were back,’ he said. ‘Make sure you gi’e me a text when you want picking up. Dinnae wan’ you walkin’ out in this weather. Again.’
‘Why do people think I’m going to go out walking in a storm again?’ Bex said as he got into the car. ‘I have learned my mistake. Trust me. I’m never doing it again.’
‘Fair enough,’ Roddy muttered as he started the engine. ‘Better hurry. We need to make sure you have time to take a seat before the haggis is piped in.’
‘Piped in?’ Bex asked.
‘Do you really know nothing about this?’
‘It’ll make sense soon enough.’
After dropping them off, Roddy drove immediately back to the village. Apparently, he had another two drop-offs to do and had already done four before picking them up. By the sounds of things, it was going to be a good night for him, money-wise, anyway.
While Bex didn’t immediately discover what the haggis’s role was, the pipes became evident before they had even stepped inside the castle.
The unmistakable tones of the bagpipes drifted through the air, causing a nervous excitement to flutter through her.
There was so much to Scottish culture that she loved, and she didn’t think this night was going to be any different.
When they headed past the drawing room and study, down the corridor, towards the dining hall, Bex was forced to do a double take.
No wonder the workers had been so loud. The place was transformed.
The wood-panelled ceiling was covered in sheer black drapes, interspersed with ivy garlands that sparkled with thousands of fairy lights while a long table had been set down the centre, with candles and tartan napkins with more places laid out than Bex had ever thought possible.
It was like she had stepped in to a fairy tale.
Or an incredibly expensive wedding venue.
All around them, people milled around in the ballroom, glasses of whisky and champagne in hand.
‘Kieron!’ Lorna said excitedly at the sight of their host.
As his head turned in their direction, a smile flashed across his face.
‘Glad you could all make it,’ he said, looking at the group, before focusing her attention on Bex. ‘You look beautiful, Rebecca,’ he said as he kissed her gently on the cheek, before stepping back as if he needed to fully take her in.
‘Thank you,’ she replied.
Something prickled uncomfortably behind her skin.
It was a perfect, gentlemanly gesture, and yet it was so different from the way it had been earlier with Duncan.
Duncan had barely grazed her skin, and yet her whole body had rushed with heat, so much so that his very presence had consumed her.
She’d wanted nothing more than to grab him, pull him close and never let him go.
Whatever this was with Kieron, it wasn’t the same.
Guilt built within her. Kieron was a catch, and he would make someone a very lucky woman, but she didn’t think that was going to be her.
‘Don’t forget about our dances later,’ he said. ‘But now, I’m afraid I have work to do.’
‘Of course,’ Bex said.
As Kieron turned back to the main hall, she noticed the waiter walking around with a tray of champagne and found herself desperate to down one. Yet before she could attract their attention, Kieron was knocking his ring against his glass, sending a chime out into the air.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you would like to take your seats, please.’ Kieron’s voice rose above the chatter. ‘It is time to welcome you to your places.’