Chapter 5 #2
I am not a damsel in distress.
He shoots me a surprised look but steps back.
I stop in front of the door.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear blood rushing in my ears.
Using my foot, I push the door open.
It swings inward slowly with a creak straight out of a horror movie.
The bedroom gradually comes into view.
A four-poster bed.
An antique dresser.
Heavy curtains pulled back from the window.
And standing in the middle of the room...
A sheep.
A perfectly calm sheep.
Standing in the center of the bedroom.
Chewing on a piece of fabric whose origin I have no desire to investigate.
The animal slowly turns its head toward us and stares with complete serenity.
A long silence follows.
“It’s a sheep,” I say finally.
Beside me, Cameron sighs.
“Yes.”
“There is a sheep. In the manor. Upstairs.”
“Yes.”
I turn toward him.
“Why are you not more surprised to find a sheep in my manor?”
Cameron gives me a resigned look.
“Because that’s Hamish.”
I stare at him.
“And that’s supposed to explain something?”
“Not really, no.”
Hamish—the sheep, apparently—drops the fabric.
Then he calmly walks toward us, slips between Cameron and me without so much as acknowledging our existence, and exits the room.
We both turn to watch him descend the staircase at an unhurried pace as though he does this every day.
Which, judging by Cameron’s expression, he probably does.
I remain frozen, candelabra still in hand, mouth slightly open.
“I nearly had a heart attack because of... a sheep.”
Cameron looks at me.
“Technically, I may have scared you more than the sheep did.”
I shoot him a murderous look.
“You think this is a competition?”
He smiles.
“Sorry. No.”
Finally, I lower the candelabra, inhale deeply, and slowly exhale.
Okay.
Okay.
Everything is fine.
It was just a sheep.
Not a burglar.
Not a ghost.
Just a sheep named Hamish wandering freely through my Scottish manor.
I turn toward Cameron.
“Alright. Now that I’ve had my daily dose of humiliation, what exactly did you want? I assume you didn’t come all the way here just to introduce yourself. And if you have some hidden agenda involving this manor, I should warn you that I’m not interested in selling.”
“My grandmother sent me.”
I frown while frantically trying to fit the pieces together.
“It’s Maggie McGregor,” he clarifies.
“The castle owner who invited me for tea?”
“The very same.”
“I declined.”
Cameron nods slowly.
“I know. That’s why she sent me.”
I stare at him, trying to determine whether this is a joke.
“She sent you to convince me to come?”
“Yes.”
I remain silent for a second.
Then I burst out laughing.
A real laugh.
Unrestrained.
Liberating.
Completely uncontrollable.
Cameron looks genuinely surprised.
Then a smile appears on his face.
I’m laughing so hard I have to lean against the hallway wall.
“This is the most absurd day of my life,” I gasp between laughs.
This time Cameron grins openly.
“Wait until you meet my grandmother. I promise it gets worse.”
I wipe my eyes, catch my breath, and look at him.
“Explain something to me. Why exactly is your grandmother sending you to kidnap me for tea?”
“I’m not here to kidnap you.”
“No. You’re here to convince me to come. Totally different.”
He raises both hands in surrender.
“Look, I’m just as uncomfortable about this as you are. But my grandmother is... persistent.”
“Persistent?”
“Terrifying,” he corrects. “She’s terrifying.”
I can’t stop myself from smiling.
“So she sends you to do her dirty work.”
“Exactly.”
Still amused despite myself, I shake my head.
We descend the staircase in silence.
Hamish has disappeared.
I set the candelabra back on the coffee table and turn toward Cameron.
“Alright. Tell your grandmother I appreciate the invitation, but I’m genuinely very busy.”
Cameron studies me with a strange expression.
“You know nobody says no to Maggie McGregor, right?”
“Well, I just did. Twice.”
“Yes. And she personally sent me to come get you.”
“And I’m saying no to you too.”
Cameron sighs.
“She’ll send me back. Probably with reinforcements.”
I fold my arms.
“I am not going to give in to social pressure just to drink tea with a stranger.”
“She’s not a stranger. She’s my grandmother. And she’s... kind.”
“Kind and terrifying?”
He shrugs.
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
I study him for a moment before sighing.
“Listen, Cameron. I’m sure your grandmother is lovely, but I’m genuinely here to work. I need to complete an inventory, make decisions, and go home. I don’t have time for social visits.”
Cameron nods slowly.
“Okay. I understand.”
He heads toward the door.
Then stops and turns back.
“But just so you know, my grandmother never gives up on anything. So you’ll probably end up having that tea eventually. You might as well get it over with now.”
I don’t answer.
He offers a small smile.
“Have a good day, Clementine. And watch out for Hamish. He tends to occupy places he likes.”
He leaves and closes the door behind him.
I remain standing in the middle of the living room, still slightly stunned by everything that just happened.
A sheep nearly scared me to death.
I landed on my backside in front of a complete stranger.
And now I’ve apparently started a cold war with the village matriarch.
Welcome to Scotland, Clementine.
I sit back down, pick up my notebook, and attempt to focus on my inventory.
But my eyes keep drifting toward the front door.
Cameron McGregor.
Real estate agent.
Maggie’s grandson.
Rather charming, I have to admit.
And apparently accustomed to sheep wandering through manor houses.
I shake my head and force myself to write.
Antique mirror above fireplace. Gilded frame, slightly tarnished.
But a thought slips into my mind.
What exactly happens if I refuse another invitation?
I sigh and close the notebook.
Maybe I should just agree to this tea and get it over with.
Or maybe I should stand my ground and show this village that I’m not so easily manipulated.
I glance around the room.
The manor is silent again.
Too silent.
Abruptly, I stand and grab my purse.
I’m going into the village.
I’ll buy something to eat.
Get some fresh air.
And most importantly...
Avoid running into Hamish.
Or Cameron McGregor.
Or anyone at all, really.