Chapter 22
T he king and queen depart Balmoral as soon as their morning bagpipes have ceased. The staff and I line the driveway to bid them farewell and they pass by each of us to say goodbye. Mrs Buchanan is the very last in the row and for a while, the king and queen stand before her shaking both her hands. For the first time, I see her blush as she looks up from beneath her lashes to take in what is undeniably their praise. Curtseying over and over, she is actually flustered as she waves off the monarchy in their sleek Range Rover.
As soon as the car vanishes into the treeline, an audible sigh is heard across the maids, footmen, cooks, and gardeners alike. Mrs Buchanan’s blush is wiped clean, her face drops back to its natural frown, she brushes down her apron, and returns to her regimented posture.
‘Right. I’ll have no mucking about.’ She addresses her troops. ‘If you get this place turned around and shut down by noon, you can all take the rest of the afternoon off.’ A hum arises as all of the staff marvel at the Buchanan’s unusual kindness but she quickly shushes them. ‘That is if, and only if, I am happy with how you leave this great castle. If even just the one of you fails at my inspection, all of your holidays will be delayed by another day.’ A groan goes up amongst the crowd and she dismisses them with a flick of her wrist.
Finding Sophie in the crowd, I draw up beside her. ‘Holidays?’ I ask.
‘Yep, two weeks of freedom. Which usually, for me, means spending two weeks doing odd jobs around my mum’s house less than ten miles away.’ Sophie rubs her hands together with a chuckle.
‘So do I just get free rein of the castle for two weeks?’ I ask, picturing a few of my own Home Alone scenarios, and wondering if I’ll be able to jump on the king’s bed without being caught.
Sophie laughs. ‘You’d be so lucky.’ She nods her head towards Mrs Buchanan. ‘She doesn’t have any family since her husband died. Mrs Buchanan is here all year round. Balmoral is her baby and nothing can seem to take her away from it.’
Pity stirs in my stomach. ‘She stays all by herself?’
‘I’m sure she loves the peace and quiet. I like to imagine that she just sits and eats biscuits in the anteroom.’ Thoughts of Mrs Buchanan wandering the halls in her curlers or eating toast with her feet up on the king’s table amuse me and I truly hope that is the reality for her. ‘Plus, Jimmy usually stays too. He has his wee cottage and doesn’t have another home so it’s usually just those two.’
‘How have you never told me this before?’ I grin, wide-eyed at Sophie, and she furrows her brows in confusion.
‘You’re not still hung up on them being in love, are you?’
‘What would you do if you were left alone inside a castle with your one-night stand from two years ago?’ I wiggle my eyebrows. ‘That is the plot to a raunchy Mills and Boon if ever I’ve heard one.’
‘God, you need a shag. Now you’re picturing the old folks at it, and I think I’m gonna boke.’ Sophie pushes against my upper arm playfully.
‘Who needs a shag?’ Fraser Bell draws up behind us, his voice making me jump, and turning Sophie’s cheeks scarlet.
‘Alice is scheming about Jimmy and Mrs B again. Making up scenarios of them alone in the castle whilst we’re all on holiday,’ Sophie explains and Fraser cracks a smile.
‘You’re off on your holidays too?’ I ask him, my gut sinking as my subconscious had clung to the hope that it might be me and the piper left in these great halls alone.
‘I am indeed,’ he replies. ‘Spending a few nights over in Inverness with some of the lads I know from the army who have just gone on leave. Should be fun.’
‘Will you be seeing Eilidh at all?’ Sophie enquires about his sister.
‘I don’t think so. She’s got this fancy new job in Aberdeen so she’s quite busy these days. The lads are thinking about having a party though, so she might pop over and join us for that.’ Sophie’s eyes glow as she listens to him speak, her gaze refusing to leave his face even when his sentence reaches its end. A bolt of jealousy strikes through me and I curse myself for such a thought.
‘You’re all forgetting something incredibly important.’ I fold my arms over my chest in mock annoyance.
‘What?’ they say in unison.
‘Why, me of course,’ I reply with a snigger. ‘Please don’t tell me I have to stay here and third-wheel all of the repressed sexual tension of the groundskeeper and the housekeeper. I’ll be stir-crazy by the time you both return.’
My friends laugh, and Sophie fakes a gag. ‘By all means, come home with me. But my mam will put you to work, royal or not. And we don’t have much room in the house so you’d probably be in the shed.’ She laughs at the mental image she has conjured for herself.
‘The work, I don’t mind. In fact, I’d love to get stuck into something not royal, for once. But the shed doesn’t sound too appealing in the Highlands in September – I cannot lie.’
‘Fair enough.’ She shrugs with a smile. ‘You’re welcome to visit any time you like though. We could always spend a couple of days down at the Village Hall.’
‘Village Hall?’ Fraser looks confused as we all gather in the doorway, delaying going our separate ways.
‘Sophie’s latest project.’ I grin, pride in my friend flowing on my words.
Again, she blushes as she looks at him. ‘I decided to try and fix up the old Village Hall in Braemar. You know the one that we all used to have our birthday parties in when we were kids? Give something back and all that jazz.’
‘That’s amazing, Soph,’ Fraser says sincerely, and that evil pang of jealousy courses through me again. Reaching up, he takes her by the shoulder and gives her an affectionate squeeze. ‘I’m sure I know a few people I can rope in to help if you need it.’
Sophie nods modestly. ‘Thanks,’ she utters shyly. ‘Anyway, must get on unless I want to be the most unpopular person that ever dared walk through this castle. I’ll catch up with you both later?’ I give her a nod and wave her off. Fraser does the same, his dimpled smile on full show.
No matter what happened last night, Alice, no matter how many kisses we’ve shared, or how desperate each touch is, your best friend is in love with him. And she is his perfect match.
I need to get back on track. My feelings may be betraying me, betraying Sophie, but my head is strong. I must do all I can to help her win the piper’s heart. I shall simply watch them from afar, knowing the better woman got the man she deserves, and I will be content to see the both of them happy.
‘What are your tasks today then, Piper to the Sovereign?’ I turn to Fraser, trying to push down all of my urges to throw my arms around his neck and leap into his arms.
‘For the first time in Lord knows how long, I have none.’ He grins, chuffed with himself. ‘I just can’t wait to get some trousers on.’ Fraser leans closer to whisper, ‘The old horse-riding legs don’t half chafe in this flaming kilt.’
I can’t hold my laughter in. Pushing him away playfully by the chest, I shake my head. ‘How very enlightening.’
Fraser shrugs with his boyish smile and the sight of it warms me to the core. Every day that passes I feel as though I get to see more of him, as though he isn’t afraid of showing me the real person that he hides behind his uniform.
‘Are you busy?’ he asks me, his face lighting up with an idea.
‘In the months you have known me, have I ever once been busy?’ I chuckle. He thinks about it for a moment and laughs.
‘Aye, fair enough.’ Then growing a little nervous, he fiddles with his bonnet in his hand, averting his eyes from me entirely. ‘I was just wondering, if you had no plans, well …’ He trails off, unable to find the words. Then, as though finding the courage, his words tumble out faster than I’ve ever before heard him speak. ‘I have something to show you that I thought you might like.’
‘What is it?’ I ask, already knowing that he could be asking me to look at a muddy puddle in the road and I’d still say ‘yes’ a thousand times.
‘That would have to be a surprise.’ He stands up straighter, his eyes tracking my face to gauge my reaction. As I remain silent, trying to control my excitement and not allow myself to be too pleased at the thought, he falters again. ‘Or, I could just tell you – it isn’t really much of a surprise. I just thought—’
‘I trust you.’ I cut him off before his excitement dwindles any more. ‘I’d love to.’ The piper lets out a sigh of relief and a nervous laugh, before straightening again.
‘Amazing. Well, I just need to get changed and then it’s only a wee walk, if you’re okay with that?’ Nodding my head eagerly, I follow him along the garden path. ‘I could come back and fetch you if you like? You don’t have to come all the way to mine.’ His cheeks redden.
Still, I follow him anyway. ‘Why, have you just remembered that you’ve left your underwear on the floor?’
‘Well, I wasn’t worried about that, but now I am very much doubting myself.’ Walking side by side, we head for the treeline.
‘It’s okay, I’ve seen it all before,’ I say before my brain can register what has just fired past my lips. ‘I mean— not yours— I just— I have no idea what I’m saying.’ It’s my turn to become flustered and, though he laughs at my blunder, Fraser’s cheeks stain the colour of the nearby dahlias too.
‘I know what you meant,’ he says quietly. ‘But I have to warn you, I don’t usually have visitors, particularly not royal ones, so you will have to excuse the mess.’
After walking for a few minutes, we come to a clearing in the trees and a small wooden cabin sits in the centre of it. Shaded by an abundance of browning leaves, and surrounded by the last of the season’s wildflowers, I wonder for a moment if I have stumbled across the home of some sort of magical helper from a fairy tale who is going to set me on my quest to defeat the evil queen.
‘Not much, but it’s home,’ Fraser says, pushing open the door. As he moves into the room, he grabs a few things that he had left lying around and tucks them under his arm before showing me to an armchair in the middle of the lounge. Once I am comfortable in my seat, he wanders off to the adjoining room to change, leaving me precious moments alone to take in my surroundings.
The interior is very basic: one chair, one mug on the mug tree, and I’d half imagine there’s just one knife and fork and one plate in the cupboards. In spite of its simplicity, it’s homely. A small lamp warms the light of the room in the corner beside the chair, which in itself feels like sitting on a soft bed of moss. Just like Jimmy’s wee cottage, there’s no television, or even any electricals in sight. The room is instead littered with photographs and various musical instruments. Sheets of music clutter the coffee table but, for a bachelor pad, you can tell this is a home that is well taken care of.
One photograph in particular catches my eye. This one is not fastened to any wall or up high on any shelves or mantels; it is the only one I can grasp from right here in my seat. The frame is filled with dimpled smiles. On the first row are three children, their thick amber hair glowing in the lens flare. Their faces are almost identical too, though the one in the middle has a front tooth missing and shows it off proudly. Behind them stand a couple. The father’s genes hardly stood a chance, for the mother seems to have gifted her children almost all of her features. Though, it is the father whose dimples are firmly imprinted on his offspring.
‘Fraser,’ I call out to him and he replies through the walls. ‘Is this your family?’
The piper peeks his head around the doorframe, his bare shoulders just visible, and I avert my eyes to hold up the frame. ‘It is indeed,’ he says with a breathy laugh. ‘I’ll give you one guess as to which one is yours truly.’
Smiling at the photo, I look at each of the children again. It is obvious that the one in the middle with the missing teeth is his sister Eilidh, her red hair braided over the top of her head in a crown of smouldering bark. Even as a child with gaps in her smile, she is as beautiful as Sophie has described. Two boys huddle closely at her sides. The one on the left is clearly the younger of the two. He stands with his legs parted, as though ready to run away as soon as the adults turn their backs. The other stands perfectly upright, hands folded together in front, a serious look on his face, though with a familiar playful glint in his eye.
‘Are you the one who looks like a six-year-old butler by any chance?’ I tease and Fraser nods proudly, his body still tucked away out of my sight.
‘I’d say not much has changed since that photo. Eilidh still smiles like that, Aonghas is still hard to pin down in one spot long enough to snap a picture, and my mum looks almost exactly the same. It’s only Dad who’s changed. But it’s still my favourite photo.’
‘You look like him,’ I say softly, staring at the photo. Fraser’s father, the Piper to the Sovereign who preceded him, wears the same uniform I see his son in each day, with the same serious expression that always seems to be threatening to break into a disarming smile.
Fraser disappears for a moment and then returns in a pair of jeans, though still remains naked above the waist. Unable to tear my eyes from his chest, I swallow. His wide shoulders slope into strong biceps, and a spattering of red hair trails all the way down the softness of his stomach until it disappears into the low line of his trousers. My imagination runs away from me and I have to remind myself where I am before I can wet my lips enough to speak again.
Fraser perches himself on the arm of my chair and leans his arm across the back of it until he is so close that I can smell the faint spritz of aftershave across his neck. Leaning down over my shoulder to take a closer look at the photograph in my hand, he is so close to me now that I can hardly focus on the glossy paper anymore. Swallowing again and again just to try and remedy the overwhelming dryness in my throat, I am grateful when Fraser speaks first.
‘I had to be Dad when he died,’ Fraser says candidly, and I allow him to continue without interruption. ‘Took on his job, provided for the family. Mum was utterly broken so it was down to me to help her, and become a father to my younger siblings. It feels so disgusting to admit it, but I hated them both for a while. I had my own career, my own plans, and suddenly everything was upside down and nothing was in my control.’ I grasp his free hand that he has rested on his lap and stroke across his knuckles tenderly. Sighing, Fraser continues, ‘I wouldn’t have done any of it differently though. I’d do it a thousand times over. They needed me, and I am glad that I could serve my family. It’s just nice to be needed by no one every once in a while. I suppose that’s why I live in a cabin in the woods: a chance to be alone.’
‘I know that I never knew him, but one thing I know for sure is that your father would be so indescribably proud of you, Fraser.’ He catches my fingers in his thumb as I take another stroke across his knuckles, and he squeezes them gently.
‘Anyway, enough of that.’ He gets to his feet and grabs a checked shirt from his bedroom and buttons it slowly across his chest. ‘I promised you a surprise. Never before have I broken a promise and I certainly won’t be starting today.’ After pulling on a pair of brown boots, he stands up straight and claps his hands together. ‘Ready?’
As I nod, Fraser offers me his hand and helps me slowly down the steps of his home. Reluctantly releasing my fingers, he walks beside me through the castle grounds. With each stride, my heart throbs harder, enthralled by each and every prospect.