Chapter 2
‘She’s a wee menace,’ Duncan growled as he dashed towards the front door and checked that it was still locked. ‘Never had a pup like her. And I thought I knew dogs.’
‘She’s not a menace, she’s just spirited,’ Bex replied, her pulse hammering as panic raced through her. ‘And a pup.’ She turned around, not sure which direction she should head in, when Ruby sauntered over to her and sat by Bex’s feet.
‘Why aren’t you worried? Why aren’t you looking for her?’ she asked. ‘You came and found me when I was lost.’
The dog flopped down onto the floor and let out a low yawn, as if telling Bex in no uncertain terms that the puppy was her responsibility now.
Great. Just great.
‘Shall I take upstairs, you stay downstairs?’ she said to Duncan. This wasn’t like her flat in London, or even the lodge, where there was only so long a pet could be lost for. Here she could be anywhere and the longer she was lost, the more mischief she could get embroiled in.
‘Aye,’ Duncan replied, heading into the drawing room while Bex sprang back up the stairs she’d just come down, trying to ignore the resounding creak that followed her heavy footsteps.
‘Rosie? Where are you, girl? Come on, girl. Treats! Walkies! Rosie, Rosie?’
Duncan may have known a fair bit about raising puppies, but there was no denying Bex had been gloriously na?ve when she’d decided to keep Rosie.
Although the other pup parents didn’t seem to be having the same problems. Whenever she passed one of them in the village, they were quick to mention how well behaved their dogs were.
How calm and well natured. And sure, Rosie had the well-natured part, but the rest of it?
Part of her hoped that people were lying and that their dogs were menaces too, although she wouldn’t wish the heart-lurching fear of having no idea where the pup was on anyone.
‘Rosie! Rose!’ She swung open closed doors, to bedrooms she never even went into, full of cupboards they hadn’t got around to looking through, continually calling the dog’s name. But there was no sign of her.
‘Found her!’ Duncan’s voice called from downstairs as Bex reached the third bathroom.
She let out a long sigh of relief, though the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins and her heart continued to hammer away as she headed back down the stairs.
‘Where are you?’ she called out.
‘In here,’ Duncan yelled back.
‘Where’s here!’
‘In the library. You might want to see this.’
Where are you? was one of the most common phrases she and Duncan shared nowadays.
Sometimes it was in a text, when he was meant to be home and wasn’t, or when she was just checking in on him because she knew he was working later and wanted to stay up for him.
But more often, it was something they shouted through the house.
That was the thing about living in a castle with three floors: the added turrets, the basements, multiple staircases.
Once, they’d spent ten solid minutes walking around in circles and kept passing one another.
And while some of the downstairs rooms had names, it was hard to remember which was which.
For example, she could never remember which room was the drawing room vs the parlour, and she would mix up the names of the sunroom and the solarium.
Or was the sunroom actually the solarium? She couldn’t remember.
But the library she knew. It was the room she’d spent most of her time in when she’d first come up to LochDarroch, sorting out Fergus’s finances.
The room had been a complete state back then.
Annoyingly, it didn’t look much different now, given that many of her clients had similar filing methods as the old laird, and she needed somewhere to store all the papers.
‘Apparently, she’s decided the dog bed we bought for her wasn’t comfortable enough,’ Duncan said as Bex entered the room, nodding towards the armchair in the corner. ‘Oh, and you might find one or two things you were missing.’
‘Rosie, what have you done now?’ Bex said.
The little Lab looked up at her, tail beating happily, though the rest of her didn’t move. She remained exactly where she was, perfectly still.
That was never a good sign.
Puppies, Bex had learned, were like children. When they were quiet, that’s when you needed to worry.
A flurry of nervous footsteps as she crossed the room and headed towards the dog.
‘You stole my slippers,’ she said with a groan. ‘I should’ve known. What’s that? Seriously, I love this scarf!’
Rosie shifted back, shuffling to the side, and pulled out a slobbery, wet mass of fabric that had once been a gift from Bex’s friend Daisy. Now it had several holes in it, and at least an inch of fabric was missing. She dreaded to think where that fabric had gone.
‘You’ve got my dressing gown cord too, and is that… my watch! You’ve got toys, Rosie. Loads and loads of chew toys. Why do you have to eat these?’
‘Found a paperweight in there too. And a candlestick. Half dog, half magpie, this one.’ Duncan laughed.
Bex did not. She could only imagine the damage she could have done to her teeth carrying that metal, and while the watch wasn’t valuable, it was a present from her parents.
‘This has got to stop, girl,’ she said. ‘Or we’ll be finding you a new place to live.
’ The dog tilted her head to the side, widened her eyes and let out a theatrical whine as she shuffled forward and nudged her head into Bex’s calf.
Bex sighed. ‘Well, of course we won’t make you live somewhere else,’ she admitted.
‘But I’d still like it if you didn’t steal things and chew up every piece of clothing I owned. ’
‘Is that a pound coin in there?’ Duncan asked, leaning towards the cushion. He moved it aside to find a handful of small coins. Pennies, pounds. Some foreign currency that Bex didn’t even recognise.
Yes, half dog, half magpie was the perfect description of Rosie.
‘We’re lucky she didn’t swallow them. Mind you, it was pretty impressive she managed to lift ’em.’
The way Duncan spoke was as if it was something to be proud of: a kleptomaniac dog who stole money.
It would have been bad enough in any situation, but in theirs, where they had more wealth than they could have ever dreamt of, and certainly more than anyone else they knew, well, it was just embarrassing.
As she bent down and began gathering up the stolen items, Duncan knelt down beside her and helped.
‘What do you say we head into the village?’ he suggested. ‘Get some lunch?’
‘Don’t you have other things you need to do?’ Bex asked.
‘I was going to sit in the library and read, but, you know…’ He gestured to the files and papers all around them.
A flurry of guilt stirred in Bex.
‘I’m sorry. I will get this sorted. I just didn’t expect the business to take off so soon. And you know, with everything that needs doing—’
‘I’m messing with you.’ Duncan kissed her lightly. ‘I’d be happy with you using the library as your central office forever if that’s what you want.’
‘But I don’t,’ she said firmly. ‘You know that. It’s not very professional.’
It was true, but that wasn’t the only reason getting a proper space mattered to her.
The reason Bex had been so reluctant to move up here in the first place was her career, and while her priorities had shifted dramatically, she still wanted to be seen as more than just the laird’s wife – or wife-to-be.
Maybe it was because she was worried people would think she was only with Duncan for his wealth – which was ridiculous, given how she’d loved him just as much when he was the groundskeeper living in the lodge – but it had always been part of her identity, and she wasn’t ready to lose that entirely. Not so quickly.
Which meant she needed a professional working space. But just like the roofs and the windows, there were so many jobs to do that finding a proper office kept getting pushed to the back of the queue.
‘Come on,’ Duncan said, standing up and tapping his thigh and beckoning Rosie over to him. ‘You can come too. Let’s go grab something to eat.’
Fergus had never taken meals in the castle.
Not when Bex had first met him. He’d said it was about supporting the village.
That was why he ate out for breakfast, lunch and dinner at one of the local establishments.
But considering that he’d owned almost all the property in the village and most places had refused to accept any money from him, that justification didn’t really make much sense.
Still, with everything else they had going on, eating out felt like one of the few times Bex actually got to spend time with Duncan and ten minutes later, they were heading up the pathway lined with foxgloves and buttercups, strolling hand in hand towards the village.
‘Don’t forget we’ve got the meeting with Amanda Friday,’ he said as they weaved between the trees, trying to keep an eye on Rosie as she ran this way and that.
Ruby, on the other hand, barely drifted more than a few feet from our heels.
‘I think we’re meant to make up a list of questions. Did you read her last email?’
‘Which one?’ Bex groaned. ‘She sent over thirty last week. I just had to blank them out. You know, I thought having a wedding planner was meant to make life less stressful, not more.’
Duncan let out a chuckle. ‘It will in the end, I’m sure. Remember, she actually knows what’s meant to go into this. Unlike us.’
It was true. Bex had learned straight away that this wasn’t going to be an average wedding.
It was the new laird’s wedding. It was an event.
Not on the level of a royal wedding, obviously, although to some people in the village, maybe it was.
There were traditions to uphold, expectations to meet, and Bex knew nothing about any of them.
Which was why they’d felt a flurry of relief when Amanda – a formidable wedding planner with years of experience among the gentry – had reached out to them, but with all her other commitments, they had not yet met in person.
Maybe, Bex thought, she could use this first face-to-face meeting as an opportunity to express a desire for fewer emails and reiterate her venue request.
‘I still don’t see why we can’t get married at the castle,’ she said, voicing the same thought she’d raised with Amanda in their first conversation.
After all, it was a beautiful setting. There were so many pathways like this one they were walking down, lined with wildflowers, which would work perfectly as an aisle.
The ballroom could hold over a hundred and fifty people, and there was no way they would want more than that.
Not unless they invited the entire village.
But the planner had insisted it wasn’t suitable.
Maybe she just meant it was too big. That was the only explanation Bex could come up with. Still, she mulled the matter over as they reached the edge of the castle grounds and arrived at the edge of the village.
‘Maybe when she sees the place tomorrow, she’ll have a rethink. But it doesn’t really matter where we do it, does it?’ Duncan asked. ‘As long as we do it.’
‘Exactly,’ Bex said. ‘I’d marry you in a tin shed, right?’
‘Or in a shepherd’s hut,’ he said, kissing her. ‘Or anywhere, really.’
‘Good to know.’
‘What about in a recently renovated commercial property?’ Duncan asked.
‘Sorry?’ Bex frowned. She’d thought they’d been suggesting cute places to get married and was thrown by the sudden shift in tone.
Duncan smiled as she continued on to the village high street. Although ‘high street’ was a loose term for LochDarroch’s scattershot layout of two pubs, a little shop and a café, all dotted about.
‘What’s this?’ Bex said, looking up at the building.
It was grey stone. Quaint enough. She’d never really paid much attention to it before, although there was now a conspicuous white cloth hanging above the doorway, and an unexpected nervousness rippled through her.
‘Duncan… what is this?’
‘Phew, I didn’t miss it! Have you done it? Have you done it?’
Bex spun around to find a figure racing towards them.
Lorna, Duncan’s little sister, was now one of Bex’s closest friends, although when Bex had first come to the village, Lorna had explicitly warned her against dating Duncan.
Thankfully, she’d had a change of heart, and was possibly even more excited about the upcoming nuptials than Duncan and Bex were.
‘I thought I was going to be late,’ Lorna said breathlessly, dropping her hands to her knees as she reached them.
‘Late for what?’ Bex asked. ‘I don’t get it. What’s going on?’
Lorna’s grin widened, although Duncan offered his sister a scolding look.
‘Nothing like spoiling my moment, is there?’
‘The moment’s not spoiled. Do it!’ Lorna urged.
‘Will someone tell me what’s going on?’ Bex asked.
‘Yes, go on, Dunc. Hurry up. I can’t stay for long.’
With a shake of his head and a sigh that Bex was sure was directed at Lorna, Duncan turned back to Bex.
‘Think of it as an early wedding gift,’ he said. ‘And maybe don’t tell me if you hate it. It’s been damn hard to keep this under wraps.’
A moment later, he reached up, grabbed the corner of the sheet, and pulled it down to reveal the fresh signage beneath.
Bex’s breath hitched.
RB Accountancy