Chapter 18
The moment the castle came into sight, Marjorie rushed towards her.
‘I thought… I thought you said it was okay,’ Marjorie said, her silent partner at her side. ‘You said you’d let me know if it wasn’t. He didn’t hurt himself, did he? The laird said he was okay, but—’
‘The laird?’ Panic swallowed Bex entirely. Was Duncan hurt?
‘Duncan?’ she yelled, racing towards the hall. ‘Duncan!’
A surge of relief flooded her as Duncan appeared from around the side of the castle, looking crumpled and tired, but she couldn’t see any sign of injury on him.
‘Are you okay?’ Bex grabbed his head in her hands, turning him from side to side, as if she might see signs of a wound. ‘Marjorie said she thought you were hurt.’
‘Me?’ Duncan shook his head. ‘No, I think she was talking about the roofer.’
‘The roofer?’ Bex questioned.
‘Aye. The marquee truck didn’t see the ladder. Knocked it out.’
Bex’s hand flew to her mouth. The castle was four storeys high in some places. If the roofer had fallen from that…
‘He’s okay. It’s okay,’ Duncan said, squeezing her hands tightly.
‘He was on the roof, nowhere near the ladder. And it’ll teach him for not putting up scaffolding like he was meant to.
’ She didn’t know how Duncan was being so casual about this.
Her heart was drumming hard enough to crack her ribs.
‘I would’ve made him set up somewhere different if I’d known the marquee truck was coming down this way.
They normally hold the gala on the front lawn. ’
‘Yes, yes, of course they do.’
Bex pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead, trying to block out the thudding behind her temples.
‘I was meant to say. I just… It slipped my mind.’
He frowned. ‘You forgot? That’s not like you.’
A lump filled her throat, but as she tried to swallow it down, she found her chest struggled to move.
Not only that, but her heart was racing.
Everything felt so hot. Why was it so hot?
She tried to swallow again, but she couldn’t even catch her breath.
Panic surged through her. Why was she finding it so difficult to breathe?
‘Hey, hey, I’m here. I’m here. Focus on me. I’ve got you.’ Duncan squeezed her hands. ‘Deep breath, in. Deep breath out. You know what to do. You know what to do.’
Bex squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Did she? It didn’t feel like she did at all.
‘Deep breathing,’ Duncan said again. ‘Just focus on my voice. Breathe in, breathe out.’
Slowly, Bex finally managed that first inhale. Then another. On the third, she could finally open her eyes again, only to find Duncan’s worried face looking back at her.
‘I thought the panic attacks had stopped,’ he said quietly when she’d regained her composure.
Bex nodded weakly, her hands still slick with sweat. ‘Me too,’ she replied, although in truth, she didn’t know if they were something that ever really left. Not once you’d had them.
‘Come on. Let’s get inside instead. Get you a drink. Then you can tell me what’s going on.’
Wordlessly, Duncan led her through into the drawing room and disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a glass of water.
‘Do you wanna tell me what’s got you so stressed?’ he asked.
Her heart ached. No, she didn’t because it would only cause him more stress too, although not saying anything would probably lead to him worrying even more.
‘It just feels like I’m juggling constantly at the minute,’ Bex started. ‘And I’ve not been writing things in the calendar because I can’t deal with all the emails that Amanda sends and… and…’
She couldn’t carry on. Tears were trickling down her cheeks.
It was just tiredness; she knew that. Tiredness was making her teary, making her forget things.
The problem was, she didn’t know how not to feel tired.
Not without something giving. The wedding or the job. And she didn’t want to pick either.
‘Hey.’ Duncan wiped her tears with his thumb, then hooked it beneath her chin and tilted it upwards. ‘It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’ll get on top of things. Together. Now, everything here’s grand. Everyone’s good, right?’
Bex nodded, still sniffling back some of the stubborn tears that remained determined to fall.
‘And the office is okay?’
She nodded again. It had been another good day. A very good day, until she got the phone call from Duncan.
‘Grand,’ he continued. ‘Now, have you sorted out the dresses for the photoshoot? It’s only a few days away.’
This time, she knew she had to reply, and so she took a deep breath in.
‘I mentioned it to Lorna in passing, I think. Or maybe it was Eilidh.’
‘So that’s no.’
Duncan raised an eyebrow, knowing there was no need for Bex to reply.
‘Well, ring them now. See if they can come tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ Bex said. The last thing she felt like doing was hosting people, even if it was two of her best friends.
‘Aye, one step at a time. You might even have fun? And it’s another job ticked o’ the list.’
His lips twisted, and the action was enough for Bex to form just a slight reciprocal smile. How she had been so lucky to find a man like Duncan, who could bring her from borderline panic attack to calm in a matter of minutes, was a miracle, but she wasn’t going to take it for granted.
‘Okay, I’ll message them now.’
‘Good.’ Duncan stood up. ‘And I’ll go wait with the roofer for the ambulance.’
‘Ambulance!’ Bex lunged to her feet, only to see the grin on Duncan’s face. He was winding her up.
‘Too soon?’ he said.
‘Aye,’ she responded with a punch on his shoulder. ‘Too soon.’
And yet somehow his humour did exactly what it was meant to. Lightened her, just a little. There was a reason she was marrying him, and it wasn’t just that he was the best-looking man she’d ever known.
Amazingly, when Bex messaged Eilidh and Lorna, both were free and more than happy to come over for some wardrobe rummaging.
‘Don’t eat first,’ Lorna said. ‘I’ll bring snacks. Gala practice.’
‘I’ve got some of Niall’s too,’ Eilidh added only to immediately follow it up with another message. ‘Nope, scrap that. He says I’m not allowed to share them with the competition.’
Maybe judging everything wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, Bex decided as she chuckled at the messages. It definitely felt less stressful than competing.
Still, she wasn’t prepared for the mountain of boxes and Tupperware Lorna turned up with.
‘I thought you said you couldn’t do anything for the wedding,’ Bex said.
Lorna laughed. ‘Well, this is almost everything I’m entering. Apart from the éclairs, the crème pat needs longer in the fridge. I wasn’t going to risk moving them.’
‘Why exactly are you entering so many different categories?’ Bex asked as she helped her carry the boxes through into the kitchen. There was no way they were going to get through it all, but hopefully Lorna wouldn’t mind if she took a couple of leftovers to the office for Fi.
‘Really?’ Lorna said, sounding shocked.
‘Really?’
‘It’s for the Laird’s Cup.’
‘The what now?’ Bex blinked. That definitely sounded like something she should know about.
Lorna let out a low sigh as she began opening cupboards in search of plates and platters to put all the food on.
‘Every entry in the gala gets awarded a point,’ Lorna explained. ‘Then you get more if you get a rosette: five for gold, three for silver, two for bronze, etc. The person with the most points gets the Laird’s Cup.’
‘And it’s just… a cup?’ Bex questioned ‘Is there a prize that goes with it? Money or something?’
Lorna shook her head like Bex had just said the most na?ve thing imaginable.
‘The cup is worth bragging rights for the whole year. I’ve never been in with a chance before.
I used to think it was just the sort of thing the older lot went for, but then I started baking, and I’m hooked.
And why shouldn’t I win it?’ Bex wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, but she stayed quiet all the same.
‘I think I’m entering the same number as Niall,’ Lorna mentioned, ‘and we’re definitely up there in terms of baking, but there are some people with sewing, flower arranging, vegetables…
It all adds up. Which means I’ve got to get rosettes for everything I enter if I’m to be in with a chance.
And obviously, I’ve got to have the judges on my side. ’
The way she winked caused Bex’s stomach to churn.
This whole judging thing was getting worse and worse.
Would Bex be able to tell Lorna’s tarts from twenty others in each category?
And what would she do if she could, but didn’t think they deserved a rosette?
And how much was she going to have to eat, exactly?
Good job the photoshoot was two days before, as she’d need days to lie down and recover from the amount of food she was clearly going to be handed.
‘Hey! Where are you?’ Eilidh’s voice called out from the hall.
‘Just in here!’ Lorna called out. ‘The kitchen.’
As Eilidh trundled in, her eyes bulged at the food.
‘You know you can’t ask me whose is better, right?’ she said, looking straight at Lorna. ‘I’m not picking sides between you and Niall.’
‘You’re just saying that because you haven’t tried my lemon squares,’ Lorna remarked.
‘How about we have a little to eat now, then head upstairs and look at the dresses?’ Bex suggested, trying to keep them on track, and not have the night become all about the gala. ‘Then we can polish the rest off with some wine once we’ve sorted out the outfits.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Eilidh picked up a small sausage roll and took a bite. ‘I’ve always wanted to have a look in your wardrobes. Well, the old wardrobes here, I just wasn’t sure how to ask.’
‘Well, if you see anything you fancy, you’re more than welcome to take it. Just as long as I can use it for this damn photoshoot first. Talking of which, it’s probably way too short notice, but I was going to ask if you wanted to make me something to wear for it?’
‘Seriously?’ Eilidh’s jaw hung open as her hand froze above the sausage rolls. ‘For real?’
‘Absolutely.’ Bex’s cheeks ached with a smile. Duncan was right. Inviting them over had been a good thing to do; now she was just annoyed at herself for not having done it sooner.
‘What kind of thing were you thinking?’ Eilidh questioned, abandoning the food altogether as she moved towards the door. ‘Old-money glamour? Traditional Scottish?’
‘Anything that gets Amanda off my back is basically my only requirement.’
‘Oh, I will definitely manage that.’
‘What about the one you’re making for the gala?’ Lorna suggested as she plated up a mixture of foods to take upstairs with them.
‘You’re entering the gala too?’ Bex asked. ‘Why did I not know you were all this obsessed?’
‘I think everyone wants to make this year the best one possible, you know?’ Eilidh replied. ‘For Duncan. For Fergus. To make it all feel like a proper fresh start. But no—’ she added, shooting Lorna a look. ‘I’ve got something different in mind for that dress.’
‘Well, let’s go look at these clothes,’ Bex said. ‘And get some wine while we’re at it. I think I might need it.’