Chapter 27
Bex flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
A strange numbness filled her bones. As if it had centred so much emotion in the last thirty minutes alone that it couldn’t deal with any more.
Even as Ruby snuggled in under her arm, she made no attempt to move, or even tell the dog off.
She had learned when she’d first come up here that sometimes, only the hug from a furry friend would do, and this was one of those moments.
Duncan was Fergus’s grandson. The man he had thought of as his boss for his entire adult life had been his flesh and blood. She couldn’t start to imagine how he would feel. It was no wonder he needed space. She’d been running for the Highlands if it had happened to her.
The thought caused a whir of sadness to catch in her.
That was what Duncan had done when they had broken up.
Run to the Highlands. Camped beneath the stars, away from it all, in the hope of getting his head clear.
That was why he’d missed all of Fergus’s calls.
Would it have been any easier, she wondered, if Duncan had heard it from the old man’s mouth?
It was difficult to know. There was no right way to learn news like this.
Part of Bex had wanted to follow Duncan.
To head to the lodge with him, hold his hand, and never let go of it.
But he’d asked for space because that was what he needed and she needed to respect that.
Besides, she had other things to worry about.
Mostly, her parents and ensuring they didn’t find out the current state of the rental car.
Before messaging them, she gave Eddie a quick ring, who informed her he’d been able to find a replacement bumper and it would be delivered the next morning.
That was something at least. It meant Bex only had to keep her parents distracted for one day.
Although when she rang them up to ask if they had any plans for the day, she discovered they’d already found a way of entertaining themselves.
‘We’re doing a tartan weaving workshop,’ Bex’s mum told her. ‘We can weave a tartan scarf in a day. And your father’s always looked good in bright colours. I thought I’d see if I can get him a kilt after too. I’ve always said he’s got nice legs. He should get them out in public a bit more.’
‘Oh, right.’ Bex wasn’t exactly sure how she was supposed to respond to the comment about her father’s legs, although she was more concerned about the tartan weaving workshop.
Where on earth were they doing that? Hopefully not somewhere they had to drive to.
‘Where did you say this scarf workshop is?’
‘Oh, it’s just in the village, isn’t that great? Some old lady called Moira runs them.’
‘She does?’ Bex asked.
‘Apparently so,’ Bex’s dad grumbled in the background. Clearly, he wasn’t as keen on the idea of making his own tartan scarf as Bex’s mum.
‘Do you know her? This Moira woman. She’s got very good reviews.’
‘Yes, yes, Mum. I know Moira. Everyone here knows Moira.’ The elderly woman could usually be found in the corner of the pub with a pair of knitting needles in her hands, though Bex had recently discovered that the village matriarch was skilled at many forms of textile art and had even taught Eilidh her sewing skills, meaning Bex owed her for the tiny little purse she took everywhere.
She had also supplied Bex with the only tartan she’d worn, just a couple of nights ago for Burns Night.
Moira was generally considered the oldest woman who lived in LochDarroch, though no one knew her actual age. She was the one who had confirmed Bex’s suspicion about Fergus having a relationship with Duncan’s grandmother. Although now it wasn’t suspicion at all, she remembered. It was fact.
How long would it take before the entire village knew, she wondered.
And how would Moira feel about the news coming out?
Had Bex not pressed, she thought the old woman would’ve taken Fergus’s secret to the grave out of loyalty to the old laird.
Hopefully now though, she would say she’d done the right thing.
‘Well, I know where Moira is,’ Bex said to her mother. ‘Why don’t I walk you up there? Then I can ask Moira how long it’s going to be, and maybe we can go out and have dinner together tonight.’
‘Oh, well, there’s a lovely restaurant we’ve read about online. The Haven. We thought we might drive up there for dinner.’
‘Drive?’ Bex said, tightness constricting her chest. The Haven was lovely; it was where she and Duncan had had their very first official date – not to mention their first kiss – and was a little way out of the village.
And while it was definitely possible to walk there in the summer, there was no way Bex would recommend it to someone in the winter.
Especially not someone who’d never been to the area before. Panic gripped her.
‘You really want to go to The Haven tonight?’ she started. ‘You haven’t eaten at the hotel yet, and they do great food.’
‘I know, but we had a look at the menu online and your father was ever so keen. I’ve already booked us a table.’
Bex’s pulse kicked a notch higher, arid dryness desiccating her throat.
‘Oh, you don’t want to drive to The Haven. You won’t get to enjoy their amazing wines if you do that. I’ll sort out a lift for you, book you a table.’
Her mother’s reply was instant.
‘Becky Boo, we were coming here to help you. I don’t want to give you all these jobs to do, walking us about and ordering taxis. That’s not why we’re here.’
‘Honestly, Mum, it’s no problem at all, and I’ll be happier knowing that you’re happy. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes?’
‘Only if you’re sure.’
‘I’m absolutely sure. I’ll see you out the front.’
Ten minutes later, Bex was standing outside the White Hart with Ruby on her lead. While Roddy hadn’t been free to taxi her parents to The Haven and back, he had given Fi a quick ring, then called Bex back and assured her she’d be more than happy to help them out.
‘You know, I’ve always wanted a Labrador,’ her mum said as they walked towards Moira’s. ‘’Course, it’s a bit different having one up here than in the city. Lots more room.’
‘There are still plenty of places you can walk a dog in the city,’ Bex responded almost defensively, although doubt flickered into her mind.
How did this work now? Her and Duncan. Ruby and London.
Could she really take the dog down to her little flat, when Ruby could live in the castle, with more fields than she could ever dream of?
Could she do that to her? She shook the thoughts away.
This wasn’t the time to think about it now.
As much as Duncan had mentioned wanting to talk about their relationship, he had more than enough on his plate to think about.
He was the laird now. It wasn’t just a title.
It came with responsibility and no one would take that more seriously than he would.
‘Well, this is you.’ She gestured to Moira’s cottage. ‘I’ll come pick you up later?’
‘Only if you’ve got time.’
‘I will do.’
As the front door clicked open, Bex headed back down the road, keen not to get into a conversation with Moira, just on the very unlikely chance that she mentioned the will. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, not until she’d spoken to Duncan.
The issue was, she didn’t know what she did want to do.
When she’d asked Nigel for the time off from work, she had wanted the space to think.
Wanted to be free from the stress of emails and demands of clients so she could focus on herself.
But how did she do that exactly? Self-care had never been one of her strongest skills, and strangely, there was nothing she found more relaxing than ticking things off a large to-do list.
If it had been the summer she could have gone for some long walks, taken some binoculars and tried a bit of bird watching, but at that moment, she was at a loss.
Sure, she could book into some fancy spa in Edinburgh for the day and relax that way, but then she’d be miles away from both her parents and Duncan and she wanted to stay close on hand, just in case they needed her.
Deciding to check if either Lorna or Eilidh were free, Bex pulled her phone out of her pocket, only to see an unread message. She froze, stopping so hard she yanked on Ruby’s lead, the name on the screen making her stomach somersault.
Kieron.
Whatever he wanted it couldn’t be good and the best thing to do would be to delete it straight away. Without even reading it. It was the least he deserved. Unless, she countered her own thoughts, it was an apology? An acceptance that he had been in the wrong and wanted to make amends?
With her heart stuttering, Bex swept her finger across the screen, opened the phone and read the message. It was brief and to the point.
We need to talk. Just you and me. Now.