Chapter 19 #3
So we were back to that, were we? “That wasn’t goading. You remind me of a hen, clucking at her little chicks, pushing them around the pen so they’re exactly where you want them to be.”
As I knew he would be, Lachlan was affronted by the comparison. He opened his mouth, perhaps to retaliate, but there was a knock on his office door. Cutting me a dark look, he called, “Come in.”
Sarah McCulloch opened the door, but I could only see her head. Her eyes were wide. “Sir?”
“Sarah, please come in.”
The shy mouse pushed into the office but hovered near the doorway.
“This is Robyn Penhaligon. She’s helping Mac with our little problem.”
Little problem? Right. How would my father, the one with the three knife wounds in his gut, feel about that description of the situation?
Having not slept because someone violated my space, referring to the situation as a “little problem” made me bristle.
“Ms. Penhaligon would like to ask you a few questions. Please take a seat, answer what you can. I’ll leave you to it.”
He was gone before I could speak, brushing past the blushing housemaid.
I studied her, thinking how awful it must be to be so shy and to have your every thought advertised across your face in a bright red flush.
Giving her a small smile, I motioned to the chairs in front of Lachlan’s desk.
Unlike her boss, I would ask her permission first. “You’re not required to do this.
But if you want to chat with me, please have a seat. ”
Sarah nodded, wide-eyed, and sat. The housekeeping uniforms at Ardnoch were pretty modern, in contradiction to the other more traditional staff uniforms I’d seen.
Lachlan’s housekeepers wore jet-black tunics and black work pants.
The tunic collar was red tartan, and the short sleeves had tartan cuffs.
Sarah’s dark blond hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and she wore very little makeup on her pretty face.
Taking the seat across from her, I noted the way she twisted her hands nervously in her lap.
She did not give off murderous-stalker vibes, but I’d learned a long time ago not to be surprised by anything.
“How long have you worked at Ardnoch Castle, Sarah?”
“Um … about three years now.”
“And you enjoy it?”
She nodded.
“What age are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Jesus, she looked a lot younger than that. “You’re aware of the incidents that have occurred, including Mac’s attack?”
She blanched. “Yes. I’m glad he’s okay. Mr. Galbraith is a lovely man.”
If she was lying, she was good. “Do you know anything about the incidents?”
“No. I already told the police that,” she whispered.
“And there’s no reason you know of that anyone would want to harm Lachlan or those close to him?”
Sarah shook her head frantically.
I pressed. “It’s common knowledge there’s bad blood between the McCullochs and the Adairs. Yet you took a job here?”
I noted the edge of defiance creep into her expression, and it gave me pause.
“That has nothing to do with me. I needed a well-paid job, and Mr. Adair offered me one. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
Deciding to use a different tactic, I relaxed back in my chair. “Yeah, it seems like a cushy position. Hanging out around famous people.”
“Cleaning up after them, you mean.”
There was that edge again.
Yeah, Sarah McCulloch had some hidden fire. Not surprising, considering who her grandfather was.
“Still, working for an attractive ex-Hollywood actor must be exciting.” I stared at her pointedly, letting her know her crush was obvious without saying so.
She flushed a horrific orange-red that made me feel all kinds of guilty, but I was there to do a job. “I would never hurt anyone,” she snapped, tears glistening in her eyes. “I wouldn’t work here if I hated Mr. Adair. I don’t care that the Adairs stole our land. It was centuries ago.”
Catching the fact that she’d condemned the Adairs without proof, much like her grandfather, I leaned into her. “Don’t you mean if the Adairs stole your land? There’s no evidence they did.”
Sarah’s nostrils flared. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Forget it.”
“Say anything about what?”
“Nothing.” She lowered her gaze.
“Sarah, if you have something to say that’s going to take you off my suspect list—”
“What?” Her eyes were round with shock. “You think I could do this?”
“I don’t know you. I do know you just stated with absolute surety that the Adairs stole land from your family when there’s no evidence they did. That to me is motive to screw around with Adair and this club’s reputation.”
She shook her head. “No, no. Mr. Galbraith already knows this, so I’m sure it’s okay to tell you … The Adairs did take our land. Mr. Adair admitted it to my grandfather. Just ask your father.”
I slumped in my chair at this news.
Well …
Shit.
I stormed into my dad’s room, and part of me was almost glad I had something to distract me from the letters and our family issues.
“Down here!” he called, having heard me barge into the suite.
I found him lying on the sofa in front of the TV, watching a soccer game.
He looked up at me, his expression hard to read.
“You didn’t think I should know the Adairs did steal land from the McCullochs? You didn’t think that was pertinent evidence against Collum McCulloch?”
Surprise flickered across Mac’s face. I knew it wasn’t exactly the first thing he thought would come out of my mouth. Switching off the TV, he gestured for me to sit. I dragged a decorative chair from the corner and placed it in front of the sofa.
“Well? Adair lied to me. He told me there was no proof his ancestors stole McCulloch land.”
“Don’t be too hard on him, Robyn. He’s protecting his family and his business.”
“By stealing something that isn’t his?” I was disappointed in a way that physically ached. For some stupid reason, I did not want Lachlan to be that guy.
“No, no, look”—Mac pushed himself into a sitting position—“Lachlan didn’t know until about a year ago.
He found letters in his father’s belongings.
Letters that dated back to his fourth-great-grandfather.
And, yes, those letters suggested the land was acquired illegally from the McCulloch farm.
But it doesn’t outright state it, and it wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.
Lachlan felt bad enough about it to speak to McCulloch.
I warned him not to, that the old bastard would not take kindly to it, but Lachlan wanted to offer him money.
Reparation. McCulloch turned it down, but the relationship between them worsened. ”
I hated to admit how relieved I was to hear that Lachlan tried to do what was right for both families, but I was pissed that I hadn’t known.
“You didn’t think I should know about this?
I’ve met that man twice, and he could not make his hatred for Adair clearer.
It isn’t healthy, Mac. And that puts him right at the top of our suspect list. He has an in here, with Sarah.
She can deny it till her cheeks turn purple, but this is motive, and you know it. ”
My dad gave me an appeasing look. “I thought it was enough for you to know there was cause for grievance between them. And as for McCulloch’s vitriol …
it’s got less to do with the land and more to do with his sister’s death.
Believe me, that caused more bitterness between him and Lachlan’s father than anything else. ”
Brain starting to hurt with frustration and lack of sleep, I leaned my elbows on my knees and cradled my head in my hands. It was on the tip of my tongue to confess about the trailer. About Sarah seeing Lachlan kiss me.
McCulloch was mad about land and grief-stricken over his sister’s death.
It didn’t seem that far-fetched that he’d involve Sarah in his revenge and that Sarah, with her obvious crush on Lachlan, was happy to carry out the threats in light of his silent rejection of her.
I believed the result they were looking for was Lachlan losing members and eventually having to close the club and sell the estate.
None of that accounted for the man who attacked Mac, but the third player could still be connected to the McCullochs.
I found myself opening my mouth to tell Mac about the kiss and the trailer when my dad asked, “Did you read the letters?”
This brought my head up. I sank back into my chair, holding Mac’s anxious gaze. “I did.”
I interpreted his silent, “Well?”
Drawing in a breath and then exhaling slowly, I replied, “My mom was definitely to blame for some of it. But you still chose your career over me.”
“I never …” He leaned toward me. “I never gave you those letters to try to manipulate you into thinking this was all your mother’s fault. I take full responsibility for my part.”
“She still is to blame, too, though,” I muttered. How was I to face her after this?
“Robyn, I hurt your mother more than I realized. I think she was just trying to protect you from the same. Don’t judge her too harshly.”
“There wasn’t a time when I was little that you weren’t there for me or good to me. She had all the evidence in the world that you weren’t going to break my heart like you broke hers.”
“Until I took a job that meant leaving Boston,” he reminded me. “I think she saw that as the beginning.”
Huh.
I hadn’t thought of that.
His perspective on it soothed the burn of my emotions.
All evidence suggested that the man my father had become was a very good one. A compassionate one. Kind. And fair. I wanted to get to know him.
I guess that meant my mind was made up.
“I want to try,” I admitted. “To have a relationship with you.”
A slow grin spread across my father’s handsome face. He looked so boyishly happy, I couldn’t help but return his smile. “Really?”
I chuckled. “Really.”
He reached out a hand, and I shyly lifted my own. Mac clasped it in his. “Thank you. It’s more than I deserve.”
“Stop. If this is to work, I can’t keep blaming you, and you can’t keep blaming yourself. We’re moving on.”
“We’re moving on,” he repeated.
My dad looked down at our hands, and he tenderly rubbed his thumb over the top of mine. “How long can you stay?”
“I’m allowed to stay as long as six months, but if I need to stay longer, I’ve got that whole dual citizenship going for me … I’m here until we catch the fucker who stabbed you.”
“You don’t need to. I don’t expect it.”
“I don’t care how many years have separated us, some asshole stabbed my dad. And I’m going to make sure we find him.”
He grinned. “You grew up fierce. I’m so very proud of you.”
My chest ached at his words. They were words I’d longed to hear from him for so long.
“Come to the ceilidh with me this Saturday?” Mac released my hand but sat up straighter in his chair.
Surprised by the abrupt subject change, I asked, “What’s a ceilidh?” He pronounced the word cay-lay.
“It’s a social. We gather at the Gloaming and we drink and eat and dance to Gaelic folk music. There will be bagpipes and tartan and haggis. It’s Scotland vomited up into one big room.”
I laughed. “That is a charming description.”
“Och, it’s a good laugh. The council asks Gordon to host it every year to celebrate the anniversary of Ardnoch becoming a royal burgh.”
“And what is a royal burgh?”
“A town founded by or granted a charter by the Crown. It was abolished in the ’70s, but it used to be a big deal.
Ardnoch was founded around a thousand years ago but became a royal burgh in the 1630s, and that’s what the celebration is for.
In actuality, it’s just a bloody excuse to spend council money on a giant piss-up. ”
I chuckled, but I wasn’t sure Mac was ready for a raucous social event that involved Gaelic dancing. “Should you be attending a ceilidh?”
“I’ll stay seated most of the time,” he promised. “I just need a wee breather from this castle. A night out and some good company. I want you to come and meet the locals. Get a better sense of the place.”
It actually sounded fun. “What do I wear?”
“Something bonny. Everyone gets dressed up for it.”
Considering I’d only brought casual clothing, I’d have to find a store or express online shopping. Maybe Lucy might be able to help me out. “Okay. I’m in.”
Mac’s eyes warmed. “Good.”
A little while later, after chatting over sandwiches Mac had called down to the kitchen for, he walked me to his door, even though I told him not to.
“I need to keep exercising,” he assured me.
“Just don’t push yourself.”
“I won’t.” As he opened the door, he looked down at me, serious. “I’d like you to think about moving into the castle. I’ve already talked to Lachlan, and he’s fine with it. It’s better than paying out money for that caravan.”
“I can’t afford Ardnoch,” I joked.
“You know we wouldn’t let you pay a thing.”
“Mac, I don’t know.” Thinking about my trashed trailer, I did have to wonder if it might be safer here.
“I know you like your independence. But please think about it. For me.”
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
As I was making my way downstairs, I spotted Lachlan talking on the gallery with actor Marci Robbins.
It was then that I made up my mind about staying at the castle.
As per usual, I tried not to react to seeing a famous person.
It was the first time I’d seen Marci, a British actor with multiple awards under her belt and a reputation of greatness few achieved.
She was a class act from head to toe. In her late sixties, she’d aged with grace.
She had the kind of bone structure and full lips that meant she’d always be pretty.
But even more impressive was her ability to master the most complicated characters and always give a unique performance.
For the first time, I felt truly starstruck.
I dragged my eyes from her to Lachlan so I wouldn’t react to her presence. He looked up from chatting with Marci, saw me approaching, and his face closed down. Without even a nod in my direction, he turned to his guest and murmured something that made her laugh.
I walked past, stiff and outraged.
He’d completely ignored me.
That rude son of a bitch.
What a moron I was to have even let his mouth near mine.
As for living under the same roof, well, I was sorry to disappoint Mac, but it would be a cold day in hell.