Chapter 4
While Bex’s intention had definitely been to have a bath, lying back on the bed was all it took for the weight of her eyelids to pull her down into a sleep.
Dream-filled sleep was something Bex only seemed to have when she was in Scotland.
When she was busy working in London, there were always too many things going round and round in her mind to allow for a decent night’s rest. But generally speaking, Scotland changed that.
Maybe it was something about the crispness of the air, or being away from the constant hum of an office environment.
Or maybe it was just sheer exhaustion from the country walks they went on.
Either way, she normally slept soundly here, though this time was different.
Feelings rather than images filtered through from her subconscious.
A constant back and forth between contentment and claustrophobia.
Fear and freedom. Whether the feelings were linked to her work life, her romantic life or something else altogether, she wasn’t sure, but at some point they were accompanied by sounds too.
A light tapping that grew louder and louder until it was almost a hammering, so loud it jerked her awake.
Only when the knocking continued did she realise it wasn’t part of the dream at all, but someone at the door.
‘Coming,’ she murmured, swinging her feet off the bed.
She had no idea how long she’d been asleep.
Dark nights drew in so early here, it was impossible to gauge the time, and yet she assumed it was Roddy.
Probably coming to ask for a credit card deposit, as he hadn’t taken one earlier.
She grabbed her wallet, ready to hand him a card, but when she opened the door, it wasn’t Roddy standing there.
It was the last person she’d expected to see.
‘Kieron,’ she said, startled.
‘Bex, can we talk?’
There was no denying Kieron was an attractive man.
Dark hair, deep-set eyes, and an absolutely chiselled jawline, he looked like he should be advertising luxury watches, holidays, or something else that evoked images of wealth and sophistication.
And he dressed the part too, always in tailored suits and polished shoes.
He was exactly the type of man she used to go for.
Bex had first met him when they were both travelling from London to Scotland on the same flight only a few weeks beforehand, when she’d learned of Fergus’s death – and how he wanted her there to help sort the will.
Back then she hadn’t had any idea who Kieron was.
She had, however, thought he was good-looking, charming and potentially datable.
He’d thought the same about her, as evidenced by the napkin on which he’d written his phone number, although he’d chickened out of giving it to her on the plane and had only told her this several weeks later.
He’d invited her to his Burns Night event at the castle as his date, offered a very sweet if rather cringeworthy speech, dedicated to her at the event, and even bent his own rules about dogs in the castle after Ruby rescued Bex when she was lost in the snow.
Kieron had always made his interest in Bex clear, being nothing but charming and lovely.
Even when he’d learned about her shared past with Duncan.
But now, as she stood before him, there was a nervousness flitting in her stomach that made her think this encounter might be different.
‘Oh, of course.’ Her voice stumbled. The shock of seeing him, combined with having been woken from her sleep, muddled her thoughts. ‘Sorry. Yes, come in.’ She stepped back, allowing him through the door.
She was grateful Roddy had found her a larger room; she wasn’t sure how they’d have all managed in a single.
Particularly as Ruby seemed determined to block Kieron’s path.
Finally, he slipped past her and took a seat on the chair in the corner.
Bex hesitated. Did she want to close the door and be alone in the room with him?
She knew how rumours spread around the village, and they’d already started about her and the late laird’s nephew.
If anyone saw them together here, it would spread like wildfire, but she suspected she already knew what he wanted to talk about, and it wasn’t something she wanted overheard.
So, after closing the door, she moved across the room and perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed.
‘So, last night,’ he began, his tone measured. ‘It would’ve been nice to have had a heads-up.’
Yup, she was right. Of course this was what he’d come to discuss.
‘I’m sorry,’ Bex said truthfully. ‘It wasn’t meant to happen that way. I hadn’t intended for you to find out like that. I was just trying to get Gordon and Moira together, but then Duncan showed up, and you were there—’
‘And yes, let’s talk about Duncan,’ Kieron interrupted, his voice slow and edged with something sharp. ‘This little plan of yours… you can’t seriously think he’s the heir.’
‘Sorry? What plan?’
Kieron waved his hand dismissively. ‘I think we can all agree it was the drink speaking last night. And I’m sure now, in the cold light of day, you can’t possibly believe he could be the heir of Highland Hall. The whole idea is preposterous.’
Tension rose in Bex’s chest. She’d dealt with plenty of arrogant men in her job; it was practically an unspoken requirement in her line of work. But this wasn’t just ego. This was entitlement. Narcissism. And she wasn’t having it.
‘Yes, I’d had a couple of drinks, but I’d hardly say I was drunk,’ Bex replied evenly. ‘And besides, what any of us think, or believe here, is irrelevant. The DNA will be the proof either way.’
‘DNA means nothing,’ Kieron snapped, raising his voice. ‘Duncan is a groundsman.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Her jaw dropped. The derision with which he said the word made her blood boil. Did he think it was an easy job? Because she had seen exactly how hard Duncan worked, and could assure him it was not. And yet she couldn’t even get a word in edgeways.
‘Duncan hasn’t been brought up to live like this.’ Kieron was practically spitting. ‘He’s a brute, with no etiquette. Blood or not, he has no claim to that house, to the land, to any of it.’
Bex blinked, shaking her head in disbelief. The way Kieron was speaking had her utterly confused. Not only because he was very, very wrong – of course DNA would prove who the rightful heir was – but also because she had believed she knew what type of man he was. And clearly she had been mistaken.
‘I understand that yesterday’s news came as a big shock,’ she said slowly. ‘But if the DNA proves he’s Fergus’s grandson, then he’s 100 per cent entitled to it. He’ll be the rightful heir.’
‘No. I won’t allow it. I won’t have it.’ It was as if she was talking to a petulant teenager.
Or a toddler even with the way his arms were folded across his chest. Any second now, she expected him to start stamping his feet too.
‘I won’t have someone like him – some commoner – lording himself as laird of the manor. I won’t allow it.’
Bex felt her body stiffen as she rose to her feet. A single glance at Ruby was all it took for the dog to come to her side, hackles raised. She’d never seen Ruby get aggressive before, but if Kieron didn’t stop shouting at Bex, she suspected there might be a first time.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re saying here,’ she said, her voice low and deliberate. ‘But the law is the law.’
‘Well, then let me make myself clear,’ Kieron replied, leaning forward. ‘What I’m saying is that it would be best for everyone if Duncan dropped this.’
‘What?’
‘You could persuade him,’ Kieron said smoothly.
‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you. A whisper in his ear, a mention of how you were drunk and didn’t mean to upset him, or how it would be best for everyone to avoid the stress of a lengthy court battle he’s unlikely to win.
He’d listen to you if you told him to drop it.
If you told him not to pursue the matter.
I’d even let him keep that grubby little cottage of his.
This whole thing could be swept under the carpet and forgotten. ’
‘You can’t honestly think I would do that,’ Bex said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and incredulity. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Oh, I am,’ Kieron replied, his tone icy. ‘Because believe me when I say if you don’t, you might find your life becoming very uncomfortable very quickly. And I’m not just talking about here in Scotland.’