Chapter 8
EIGHT
HIS EX
Mathilda
We spent two hours touring the estate, saving the castle—which I was dying to see—for the afternoon.
As we circled the length of the loch, and I made notes in my journal, Callum beamed, pride in his land infusing us both.
He introduced me to everyone we came across—and, as he owned land as far as the eye could see, most were his tenants or employees.
One man, who’d been unemployed for six years following a breakdown, ran a dairy farm with his wife and stepchildren. An elderly couple did much of Callum’s accounting in exchange for a cosy cottage. For which he could have charged a much higher rent.
Laird McRae cared for his people. I adored that.
We also stopped at the distillery.
Outside, the water of the loch lapped gently against the white painted walls. Inside, newly installed shiny facilities juxtaposed with the old, tall-chimneyed building. Exactly the sort of impressive image and pedigree Storm Force—Dad’s line of spirits—would be sold on.
It was clear the investment Callum had poured into the place, and I bet it had been on the back of the conglomerate’s order.
The thought knocked the stuffing out of me.
Crates of whisky labelled for Storm Force lay stacked on pallets in the warehouse.
There was no mention of this being an unsold stockpile, or of debts owed.
But it was a reminder too far of what my father and Dominic had done, and I wanted to talk about it, enough so I understood what it meant to Callum.
To gauge what he would make of the bigger picture, if he knew.
Callum had no idea that the man who’d proposed to me was also the one who had committed adultery, lost his income, and caused the Storm Force contract values to be halved. I also knew from Dad, amongst rants about Dominic’s behaviour, the label itself was in jeopardy.
Storm Force could be scrapped altogether.
I stood, uncomfortable in my skin as I tried to find a way to talk about it, but Callum placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and steered me back to the car.
“This is only part of the tour. Nothing meant by the visit other than showing you the place. Now I’ve seen that look on your face, I think I’m an idiot for bringing you here.
” His big brow furrowed. “The subject is banned, at least for the now.”
We drove away, and a tension held between us. From the moment he’d shown up in my office this morning, I felt him like kinetic electricity over my skin, but there was an additional pressure. Of all we weren’t saying and of the weight of my concealment.
Then it got even heavier.
As we travelled along the loch, heading to the nearest village for lunch, we passed a side road made of dirt and gravel.
“Where does that lead?”
“It’s the route to a disused quarry.” He didn’t elaborate further, nor did his tone alter or his focus from the road, but I knew, somehow, that there was something about the place that bothered him.
He rolled his shoulders and changed the subject, but I saw a tiny insight into the burdens Callum McRae carried.
He wore his heart on his sleeve, sure, but he had closely held secrets, too.
Good. No one should be so obviously perfect.
We found our way to a café in the whitewashed village, the strange tension persisting over lunch but finally breaking when Callum jumped up from his seat and hollered at a woman coming in the door.
“My ex-girlfriend. Here for you to interview,” he announced, and sat back with his hands behind his head.
This guy.
Two excitable children and their mother, Una, joined our table.
Callum’s ex.
I regarded her with curiosity. Una was attractive and a couple of years older than me. She had the weary look of a woman used to chasing children around, but I immediately liked her brisk movements and confidence. But his ex?
The woman settled into a seat, her pretty children scattering to a play area in the corner of the café.
“Ah, I see what all the fash is about. I mean a fuss.” Una raised a nicely shaped eyebrow before she twisted in her seat and pointed at Callum. “Laird McRae, a tea, here, if ye will.”
Callum hesitated, and the woman huffed a breath. “What are you sitting there for, man? You demand I come down here when I’m up to my ears in things to do. What good is it to me if I dinna get to talk about you behind your back?”
“You demanded she come here? To speak to me?” I switched my stare to Callum.
He lifted his chin. “As a reference. It’s no good me telling you how great I am all day. You’d believe it better coming from someone else.”
I pinched my thumb and forefinger over the bridge of my nose. “Is this how you define playing it cool?”
He gave me a wolfish grin. It went straight down the centre of my body, my belly aching with a hunger my meal couldn’t satisfy. Today was doing a number on me.
“It’s how I ensure I’ve done all I can. I’ve three hours left. Wait to see what I have planned for you this afternoon.” His voice dipped, and his gaze was resolute, and this time I shivered. Wow.
Across from us, Una heaved a sigh. “Children present. Go away, Callum.”
With a smirk, he left, taking our empty lunch plates with him to the counter. I watched him go, bemused but intrigued by whatever trick he was pulling.
Una steepled her hands. “Aye, you suit him well. You’re not afraid of him and you’ve the stature for the role of Lady.
I always wondered what kind of lass he’d fall for.
Not that I coveted the job myself, but Callum is a dear friend to both my husband and me.
All the man does is work his fingers to the bone.
He needs balance. Getting some down time with someone he cares about will do him good. ”
“You mentioned a fuss?” I asked, not wanting to embarrass Callum by correcting his friend on her mistake. We weren’t a couple, and I wasn’t being lined up for the role of lady of the castle. Jesus. Lady Mathilda. Inside, I was six years old and giggling with glee.
“Callum’s brothers, the youngest two, are friends with my nephew, Sawney. According to him, the laird has been stomping about that castle for a month, yelling and bawling like he’d a permanent headache. My husband said it was a woman, and it looks like he was right.”
She sat back, smug.
I blinked. “I’m sure it can’t have been about me.” Could it? Shoot.
“His message to me earlier today said, and I quote: I’ve a woman I want to impress. Will ye tell her how canny a boyfriend I was? I’m not sure she thinks all that much of me.”
“He was serious about you being here as a reference?” I replied, my stomach flipping at the last sentence. Spending the past several hours with Callum at my side, hearing him explain how his world worked and him being genuinely interested in my opinions, I…thought a lot of him. To put it mildly.
Una threw her hands up. “We dated when we were seventeen! I’m more than happy to bore you on how he took me to the cinema in Inverness, or how he always walked me home from school, keeping his hands to himself.
He was a little prettier then, aye? But he’s still a lovely man, cares for everyone, and is always the first to offer help.
But…” Una’s cheerfulness left her, and she paused as I bristled over the fact she didn’t think Callum attractive now. He was. Very much so.
Una’s hand went to a rope of green beads around her neck, and she rolled the largest around. “That’s not what you’d be asking, should you want to know him better.”
This was a drift I could catch. I glided an inch in her direction. “What should I be asking?”
“About his da.”
A shadow fell over the table, and Callum delivered Una’s tea.
We both winced at the timing. Callum gave me a soft look, but his forehead creased into deep lines as he turned to Una.
“Go ahead and tell Mathilda whatever you see fit. She’ll hear all kinds of chat at some point, so it may as well be sooner than later.
I’ll be outside, Mathilda. Come find me when you’re done, and we’ll go home. ”
His long legs carried him away, and Una dropped her beads. Being blindsided by an ex-girlfriend was one thing, but whatever was coming about his father couldn’t be good.
She opened her mouth. “You’re aware Callum’s father died several years ago?”
I nodded. When we’d shared breakfast in London, he’d mentioned that neither of his parents were living.
“The old man couldnae be more different from the son. Hamish, that was his da, had problems with his drink. That’s what you’ll hear around the place because people here are terrible gossips. The man’s exploits were legendary, and the son has to live with that.”
This didn’t seem the sort of thing I should hear from a stranger. “Maybe I’ll talk to Callum…” I started and glanced out of the window to where the man stood by his big car. His gaze sought mine in return, but it was guarded. Defensive now.
I had enough father issues to write the book, but Callum’s intrigued me all the more for him being such a solid man. I couldn’t imagine anything, or anyone, undermining his strength.
“Aye, do that. He won’t hold back. I only thought to mention it so you weren’t surprised if someone blurted out how Callum was arrested and all.”
“Arrested?” As I swung my gaze back to Una, one of her little girls danced over and draped herself over her shoulder.
The woman reached in her bag for her purse, handing the adorable blonde moppet a toy. She patted her on the backside, and the girl scampered away, waving her treasure in the air. Una watched her children play and took a sip of her tea before she dropped her bomb.
“For killing his father. Did he nae mention it at all?”