Chapter 9
Roddy spun around, fear wide in his eyes, before he saw Bex’s grin, dropped his head and sighed. Though she was almost certain she had hugged him countless times the night before, she couldn’t remember any of them, and therefore couldn’t help but squeeze him tightly again now.
‘How could you not tell either of us you were going to propose?’ she said when she let him go. ‘And how could you let us get so blindly drunk!’
‘Take it Dunc’s not doing well either?’
‘That’s one way of putting it. He was still in the shower when I left,’ she said. ‘He’d already been in there for twenty minutes. I think he was hoping he could wash away the alcohol.’
Roddy laughed throatily. ‘Jeez, if only that option worked. That’d be grand, eh? Talking of which, brought you these.’ He stretched out his arm, in which he held a large canvas bag, which Bex promptly took and looked inside.
‘Are those… bottles of beer?’ she asked, her head throbbing at just the thought of more alcohol.
‘Aye. Dinnae think you’d fancy hair of the dog, but it’s my own stuff. Just to say thanks.’
‘Your own stuff?’ Bex questioned, pulling out one of the bottles. Sure enough, there on the front was a simple white label with Roddy’s Ale printed in dark blue.
‘I didn’t know you did this,’ she said, slipping it back into the bag.
He offered a quick shrug. ‘Thought maybe I’d get the pubs to sell it. Get a wee bit extra comin’ in, you know. Gonna need it now.’
‘Well, you should let me pay you for these,’ Bex said. ‘I mean, if you’re going to sell them.’
Roddy shook his head with unexpected ferocity for someone who, she assumed, was dealing with a throbbing skull.
‘You did more than plenty last night. This is to say thanks.’
In spite of the lingering headache that refused to shift, Bex couldn’t help but smile. Hair of the dog was not her thing and there was no chance she was going to try the ales tonight, but it was a lovely thought.
‘Seriously though, congratulations. Very exciting. And I hope you know you’ve got one heck of a great woman there.’
‘Yeah… I know.’
There was something in Roddy’s tone that made Bex’s throat tighten. It wasn’t exactly the level of excitement you’d expect someone to show after they’d proposed to the love of their life.
‘What is it?’ Fear flooded through Bex. ‘Oh God, don’t tell me you were drunk and didn’t mean to propose. Because if you hurt her, I swear I’ll—’
‘No.’ Roddy shook his head. ‘’Course I meant to propose. I love her. Best human I’ve ever met. Needed to do it quick before she realised I’m seriously punching.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ Bex asked. ‘She said yes, didn’t she?’ That bit she could remember, although she wouldn’t have put it past her drunken mind to have hallucinated things either.
‘Aye. It’s just… I never realised how much went into it.
A wedding, I mean. I woke up this morning, and she’d already got lists.
It’s not just a dress and a place, you know?
Now we’ve got to get caterers, entertainment, the cake…
and I dinnae have a ring yet. Not a proper one. I’ll be saving till I’m fifty.’
Bex understood. She could never have imagined getting married in her mid-twenties, but if she had found the right person, she could only imagine how much of a financial struggle it would’ve been.
Even with her in a good job. Everything was so expensive these days.
Not everyone had herds of cattle, or dozens of properties they could sell when times got tight.
‘I’m sure Fi will be happy with whatever you decide. In fact, I know she will. She’d probably be happy with that ring for the rest of her life.’
‘Aye… maybe,’ Roddy said. ‘Well, I should get the laird. I got a couple of folk who he might want to see for the groundskeeper’s job and then we’re needed on the other side of the loch.’
‘You are?’ Her voice hitched. ‘On a Saturday?’
‘Weather doesn’t care what day it is, does it?’ he said, shrugging.
‘No…’ Bex replied, her shoulders dropping slightly. The quiet sadness in her voice wasn’t lost on her.
Her plans of pushing through this hangover with Duncan had just gone. But on the plus side, it did mean that she had time to sort out her Pinterest board, after taking the dogs for a decent walk, that was.
Unsurprisingly, Rosie had taken full advantage of their hungover state and used it as an opportunity to gather up as many prohibited items as she could while her owner was in no fit state to notice.
By the time Duncan left, Bex found the dog had hoarded not only her slippers but also a T-shirt, a teaspoon and a metal egg cup, the latter of which she had no idea where the dog had found it.
‘Come on. Let’s get you outside, maybe that’ll help burn a bit of energy,’ Bex said. ‘You coming for a walk too, Ruby?’
While Ruby tilted her head upwards, the word ‘walk’ was all it took to get Rosie bounding up and down like a box of frogs.
‘Sit, Rosie,’ Bex said as she stood at the front door.
Duncan had told her time and time again how important it was that she always went first – whether it was going through a doorway, crossing a road, or heading through a gate – because that set the tone for the walk.
Not only that, but you never knew who could be waiting on the other side of said door or gate, so you needed to be that barrier.
It seemed like something Ruby knew inherently, and yet she had no desire to pass that knowledge on to her offspring, who would run ahead at every opportunity.
Or behind. Or in circles. Whichever manner was most inconvenient in the given situation.
More than once, Bex had thanked the heavens that it was their land, and that she couldn’t technically get into trouble for her dog suddenly deciding to race off into the forest, but that was hardly responsible dog-owning thinking, and she knew it.
‘I’m going to have to take you to intensive classes if you don’t start behaving soon.’
She wasn’t even sure intensive dog training was a thing, but she was going to look it up later, just as soon as she got some items on her Pinterest board, that was.
Outside, it was a perfect day. An azure sky, with white-flecked clouds drifting lazily overhead, was reflected in the pristine blue of the still lake.
Whenever she stood outside, looking across the loch, she struggled to remember why she had ever wanted to stay in London, and how she had ever thought she was a city girl at heart.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t as country as some of the folk here, as the incident earlier in the year with the storm had proved, but her heart well and truly belonged here now in the green of the leaves and the undulating slopes of the hills.
What she’d planned as a half-hour stroll had turned into something closer to an hour and a half, and by the time she headed back to the castle, she was more than ready for some lunch.
Now that the nausea part of the hangover had passed, she’d shifted into the ravenous stage and was fully planning on embracing it.
‘What do you say, just a lazy afternoon with us ladies in the drawing room?’ she said to the dogs as she fixed a bacon sandwich and slathered it with brown sauce. ‘Maybe you can come up with some wedding motifs for me. You’ve probably got as much of an idea of what they are as I do.’
Answered only by drooling looks at the bacon sandwich, Bex took her food and headed back out of the kitchen, assuming they’d follow; though, she had barely taken two steps when the doorbell chimed out.
‘Oohh…’ She grimaced, discovering the headache was perhaps not as gone as she’d previously imagined it to be. ‘Who do you think that is? Maybe it’s Auntie Lorna come to spend the afternoon with us. Oooh, maybe she’s brought us some more of those tarts. Yes, that would be good.’
It wasn’t very often that Lorna had a complete day off, but she spent as much time at the castle as she could.
Duncan had even offered for her to move into it.
After all, there was more than enough space; she could have her own wing if she wanted.
Although that wasn’t the only reason he had asked her.
The main reason was that he felt odd about his sister paying him rent to live in the cottage but there was no way he could change and let her have it for free.
Not without it looking like nepotism and that wasn’t the type of laird he wanted to be.
Truthfully, Bex was rather pleased Lorna had turned the offer down. She was a great friend, and the castle was enormous, but there were so many aspects to this new life of hers that she hadn’t envisioned, and living with her in-laws had definitely never been one of them.
Still, if that particular in-law happened to show up with some exceptionally well-baked pastries that she wanted Bex’s opinion on, well, that wouldn’t be an issue at all.
‘Just a minute,’ Bex called, midway through a mouthful of her bacon sandwich, then following it up with a second before she’d even finished chewing.
Still struggling to swallow the enormous mouthful, she opened the door, ready to greet her future sister-in-law, only instead of one person standing in front of her, there were two.
And neither of them was Lorna.
‘Lady Duffy.’ The woman tilted her head and bent at the waist in a manner Bex could only describe as a bow. ‘Sorry to interrupt. Is this a bad time? We’ve some matters we’d like to discuss with you.’