Chapter 4 #2
“Aye?” he cut in, his tone sharp. “Wondering whose house I burned down today?”
“Miss Storm?” a voice interrupted.
I twisted around. A woman joined us. She offered a hand, and we shook.
“Maggie Stewart. I’m the manager here. I’m glad to meet ye. Let’s get inside, and I’ll give you a tour.”
“Thank you,” I replied, forcing my brain back into business mode. It had gone to a much darker place. One where Ally dropped the angry-ass routine and we grabbed each other for another explosive kiss.
Nng.
“Catch ye later, lass.” Ally saluted and walked away.
I didn’t watch him leave.
For the next two hours, I threw myself into the task of understanding whisky distilling. Maggie and her staff talked me through the different techniques, then showed me oak barrels stacked in the warehouse, describing the way they supplied Storm Force with multiple deliveries a week.
At the end, I sampled a single malt so smooth it went down my throat in a blissful tingle.
“Try this one, too. You’ll thank me.” Maggie took another bottle and poured me a shot of the amber liquid.
“This is too nice.”
“Our signature range. A twenty-five-year-old beauty.”
“Older than me by three years.” I raised the glass and downed the drink. “I’m a total lightweight. This will have me buzzing. It’s amazing stuff.”
“That it is. Here. Take a bottle home for your da. I met him a few years ago on his visit. Wish him well from us.”
I swapped my glass for her bottle, my head already lighter from the booze. The visit done, we descended the metal stairs and exited into the sunshine.
Maggie shook my hand again. “I need to get back to it. Any more questions, don’t hesitate to call. Happy visit at the castle!”
I’d explained that I was staying with my sister. I waved Maggie goodbye. “Thank you for everything.”
The castle was only a twenty-minute walk away, and I ignored the road, setting off down to the loch’s edge. Sparkling waves broke over the pebbled edge, and tall grasses tickled my bare legs. A huge bird of prey soared over the water, hunting fish.
Tranquillity abounded.
I took a selfie and sent it to Toby in the office. I skimmed a stone across the water, trying to force myself to relax.
Still, my brain couldn’t settle. I had ideas to write down from seeing the distillery operation. I had work problems to ponder.
My mind leapt ahead to what I’d find at Castle McRae.
My sister and Callum wouldn’t be home for a while yet. They’d gone to a midwife’s appointment and had taken the kids to Gordain and Ella’s.
Ally would be home alone. Sulking and angry with the world. Hurting because he’d found himself in a terrible situation, worse than he ever had before.
Part of me wanted to rush to find out.
The more sensible part knew I should keep my cool. He obviously hadn’t enjoyed the sight of me. Wasn’t that a punch in the gut.
Up on the road, which climbed a hill above the loch, an engine roared, passing. Then a horn blared, and a door cranked open. I stood on tiptoes and peered between the trees, seeking the source of the fuss.
Ally appeared, pale and running. He slid down the bank, stones flying under his boots. “Scar!”
I gaped at him. Gone was the sullen expression from earlier. Now, a new emotion held strong. Ally appeared almost afraid.
“What is it?” Taking care on the loose rock, I picked my way to meet him.
“I need you. Will ye come back with me?”
“I was on my way.”
“Now. Right now. We need to get back to the car.” He reached me and grabbed my hand, pulling me back up the hill, frantic in his moves.
“Has something happened?” I clutched my overnight bag to stop it falling from my shoulder.
Ally reached out and took it from me, hurrying on. “I had a call. The social worker in charge of my case is coming here with the results of my paternity test. I just had a voicemail from the woman. She said she’d sent an appointment, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
A cold chill hit me. Mathilda had told me that Ally wasn’t sharing much with his brothers. They knew he’d taken a test but little else. That had been weeks ago.
“You want me there with you?”
“Fuck.” He halted at the top of the slope and grasped the back of his neck. “I don’t want to do this alone. But if you’d rather not—”
“No! I will. I’m just surprised.” I hopped past him then rounded the Land Rover, climbing inside.
The car dipped, and Ally landed in the driver’s seat. He took a staggered inhale then swung a heavy look at me, his hand to the keys. “I was leaving to come find ye anyway. To apologise. This has been hanging over me. I’ve been an arsehole to everyone. A shite explanation, but true.”
“That’s understandable.”
He gunned the engine, and the car carried us through the trees the short distance to the castle. Ally parked at an angle, the tyres spitting gravel. He sprinted around to my side and helped me out.
Then, against the big car, he paused, his body hovering over mine. Hardly touching but keeping me pinned all the same.
Intensity claimed the air.
Ally’s eyes darkened, his gaze searching mine. “I don’t know anything. Not lad or lass. Not their wee name. I don’t know where the bairn’s ma is buried. Until I have a legal claim, they won’t deal with me.”
“God.” I bit my lip. I wanted to hug him, but he almost vibrated with desperation, holding himself tight.
Ally banged his forehead on the car’s doorframe, just above my head. He inhaled, as if about to speak.
Another engine revved, breaking the moment.
We both sought the source: A silver family car entered the castle’s car park. The social worker, I guessed, bringing Ally either a time bomb or a reprieve.
I had no idea which way he saw it.
Ally stood tall. His jaw ticked, and he tracked the car’s movements. “Stay with me, please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
We approached the silver car. The woman climbed out, offering a thin smile. She held a folder clamped under one arm. “Alasdair McRae?”
“I am.”
Her gaze leapt to me.
“This is Scarlet,” Ally added. “My sister-in-law. It’s okay to have someone with me, aye?”
The woman’s gaze betrayed nothing. “If you wish. I’m Rena Smith. We spoke on the phone last week. Is there somewhere we can sit?”
Ally paled even further but strode to the castle’s heavy door. Credit to the social worker, she barely glanced around the great hall, at the ancient archways and swords on the wall. Which meant that her news was more interesting than the history here.
My stomach compressed, and I couldn’t imagine how Ally must be feeling right now. Terrified, going by the warring emotions on his face.
Now seated in the den, the social worker placed the file on her lap and steepled her fingers. “Further to the paternity case you’ve brought for the child of Kaylee Reid, I have the results of the test. First, I want to run through—”
“What? No. Please. Will ye just tell me the result?” Ally’s bark had me flinching.
The woman pursed her lips, no doubt used to giving people hard news. “Very well.”
Nausea rose in me, the strain in the man at my side palpable.
The social worker folded back the flap concealing her paperwork and extracted a complicated-looking print out. Silently, she handed it to Ally.
He stared.
Fuck, she didn’t know about his dyslexia.
He didn’t say a word and blinked at the paper, confusion clear.
“Let me?” I asked him quietly.
His gaze clung to mine, and he gave me a swift nod. Why the hell could the woman not just say? A terrible pressure had my hand trembling as I collected the page from his fingers. He shook, too, the paper quivering.
It took everything in me to focus on the words. But there, clearly, at the bottom of lists of data, read a summary.
Alleged father: Alasdair Maddox McRae
Probability of paternity: 99.99%
“It’s positive. The baby is yours.” My attention landed on the social worker. “That’s what this says, isn’t it? Tell me if I’m misreading this.”
Beside me on the green sofa, Ally froze.
“That is correct,” the woman intoned. “Mr McRae, the positive result proves you are the father of the deceased Miss Reid’s daughter. Now, I’d like to—”
“Daughter?” Ally jerked, staring.
“Yes. Daughter. The baby is female.”
“A lass. A wee lass.” His face crumpled, and he leapt up. In two long strides, he rounded the sofas. Then he escaped the room.
I watched him leave, my chest hurting.
“I see,” the social worker said. “I take it that this was unexpected to Alasdair?”
I had no idea and didn’t try to answer. Instead, I handed her back the sheet and found my feet. “Let me go and find him. Can you wait?”
She gave a short nod, so I pursued Ally.
God only knew what he was thinking.