Chapter 39
With no idea what to expect, Bex had assumed they would all just take seats wherever they wanted, yet as she walked towards the dining table, she saw little name plaques in front of each seat.
It was then that she realised she had neither accepted nor declined Kieron’s offer to be her date for the night.
For a brief second, she feared she would be seated next to him.
Thankfully, she was a couple of places down, but nowhere near any of her friends.
On her left was a slightly older man, and on her right, a woman a couple of years younger than herself.
‘Yohan Dunsire,’ the man said in a broad Scottish accent as he extended his hand. ‘Local police commissioner.’
‘Oh. Rebecca Barker,’ Bex replied, feeling the need to give her full name. ‘Accountant. Though, you can probably tell from the accent that I’m not a local.’
Yohan’s overly bushy eyebrows twitched slightly. ‘Ye the lass who did all the work for Fergus?’
‘Yes,’ Bex said. ‘That’s me.’
‘Hmm. I thought you’d left. Heard you and the groundskeeper broke up, too.’
Bex felt a muscle twitch in her jaw. There was really no chance of privacy here.
It was absolutely insane how much people knew.
Even people she’d never met before. And if it was this bad for her, she could only imagine what it must have been like for Duncan.
‘Yes, I did leave last summer,’ she replied, hoping that the police commissioner would understand that her private life wasn’t a conversation point for the evening.
‘I’m just back to help with a few things. You know. With Fergus and everything…’
‘Right, yes. Terribly sad. Good man, Fergus. A very good man indeed.’
As the chatter continued, Bex learned that the woman beside her was a journalist, someone Kieron knew from London, who must have said the word ‘vibe’ at least six times in her first sentence.
Beyond the people she had come with, Bex recognised a few faces, including, unsurprisingly, Moira, Horace – Roddy’s father – and several others from the pub.
But from where she was seated, it was impossible to see over half of the guests, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Gordon had decided to come or not.
As for Duncan, there was no way Kieron wouldn’t have invited him, given everything he did for the estate.
That would just be churlish. Whether Duncan would show his face was another matter.
‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Kieron clinked on his glass again as he rose at the head of the table.
Hush fell over the dining hall as everyone turned to look at him.
‘Thank you for joining me here at Highland Hall. I know today is a day shrouded by sadness, so I want to start by raising a toast to the man we all knew and loved. My beloved uncle, Fergus.’
The glasses went into the air.
‘To Fergus!’
Date or no date, Bex appreciated Kieron’s choice of toast. Mentioning Fergus at the very start of the evening was, in her opinion, absolutely the right thing to do, and he wasn’t finished.
‘There are many here who knew him better than I did,’ Kieron continued as the toasts subsided.
‘And that is my shame. It is my shame that our lives took us so far apart until now. But I hope, with you all here beside me, you’ll help me learn about this man whose role I will try to deserve, and whose gift of this lordship I will honour. ’
Emotion swept across the table. Moira stared absentmindedly into her glass while the man beside her was dabbing his tears with a handkerchief.
‘Tonight is to be a night to remember, but also to look forward,’ Kieron said. ‘Not just to my future, as laird, but to the future here at Highland Hall. A future I am sure you will all play no small part in.’
As the table raised their glasses for the second toast of the evening, the future, Bex couldn’t help but wonder what Fergus would’ve said if he were here.
Kieron was certainly more loquacious than the old laird had been.
In fact, she struggled to imagine how Fergus would even begin a toast. Not to mention, in all the time she had known him, she could only ever recall seeing him in his wax jacket and flannel shirts.
The thought of him in a suit was almost enough to make her chuckle.
Still, she clinked her glass against those next to her, took another sip of her drink and waited for the remainder of Kieron’s speech.
‘Now there are many people I have to thank for bringing this night together under such short notice,’ Kieron continued, ‘and I will get to those names in a moment. But first, there is someone I would like to thank on a more personal level. Someone who went above and beyond. Rebecca Barker.’
As the eyes of the room turned to her, Bex felt her cheeks colour.
‘I am sure that all of you who are local to the village will recall what an extraordinary job she did helping my uncle here. And, fingers crossed’ – his eyes met hers, that twinkle brighter and bolder than she had ever seen before – ‘she will continue to help me in my role here, too. To Rebecca.’
‘To Rebecca!’
A chorus of cheers erupted, echoing her name.
Bex wished she could shrink into her seat, and trying to keep her smile in place, she raised her glass.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever been toasted before.
At work, maybe, and on her birthday, but never like this.
But as much as she wished she could cower away, she knew that would help nothing.
And so she met Kieron’s gaze with the best smile she could muster.
As the cheers died down and Kieron continued with his list of thanks, the journalist next to her leaned in.
‘God, what I wouldn’t give to have him look at me like that,’ she said quietly. ‘You are one lucky woman to be tapping that.’
‘We’re not… we’re not…’ Bex stammered. ‘There’s nothing going on. I’ve just been helping him with some finance things.’
‘Oh, sure.’ The woman smirked. ‘It’s all platonic, of course. That’s why he’s encouraging everyone to join your accountancy firm. It’s your skills, right?’ She air-quoted the last word.
Bex’s jaw tightened. ‘It’s probably because I’m a bloody good accountant,’ she replied coolly, deciding she’d talk to the police chief for the rest of the meal, even if the bushiness of his eyebrows was somewhat distracting.
A few minutes later, the toasts were done, and Kieron was finally finishing up his speech.
‘So I know we’ve got lots of hungry people here,’ he said, the glass in his hand almost empty. ‘And lots of talented people in great voice, who want to sing for us. So, with no further ado, I’d like to start us off with the “Selkirk Grace”.’