Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

Behind him, through the floor-to-ceiling glass, darkness had descended over Manhattan. The hum of the traffic had quietened, and Lachlan didn’t need to look out to see that every second car was a cab. Full of people leaving work and heading out for dinner, and tourists exploring the city while the cab drivers fleeced them.

Not Lachlan, though. It was one of the rare evenings when he didn’t have a late-night meeting or a business dinner.

He picked up his phone, intending to scroll through his contacts, then put it down again. The thought of an evening on the town didn’t light him up with enthusiasm – the opposite, if anything. It must be the jet lag, the heightened emotions of his father’s funeral and the surprise of his bequest. Maybe an early night would do him better, instead.

He reached forward to give his emails one final check before he switched off his laptop for the night. Clicking on his mouse, he scrolled through the updates, the circulars, the invitations – each one personally scrutinised by Grant before he’d passed them on.

Halfway down, he saw a message from Lucy Shakespeare. Raising an eyebrow, he clicked on it, his eyes scanning the content.

Dear Lachlan,

Many thanks for dinner on Monday, and for taking the time to meet with me. Attached to this email is a client care letter, outlining the terms of our agreement and the fees you’ll be charged. Please read through it carefully, and return one signed copy to me. A scanned version will be fine.

As agreed, I’ll send you a strategy document by the end of the week, and perhaps we can then arrange a videoconference to discuss next steps.

Kind regards,

Lucy Shakespeare

It was a simple business message, brief and concise, yet he could hear every word in her elegant English accent.

He glanced at his watch, twisting his arm until it appeared above the line of his shirt cuffs. It was seven thirty in New York, which made it past midnight in Edinburgh. He let his mind wander for a moment, remembering the way she’d looked when he stepped into the restaurant. The way she held herself, her chin pointed up, revealing the perfect lines of her profile against the backdrop of the inky sky. She was as intriguing as hell, and beautiful with it.

Yeah, and she’s also your attorney.

Shaking his head, he reached forward to switch off his laptop, then rolled his chair back and got up to grab his jacket. He was in a funk after his father’s death, that was all. Nothing more than that. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, clicking on the contacts and placing a call. When the woman on the other end picked up, he was walking out of his office and heading over to the bank of elevators on the other side.

‘Hey, Julia,’ he said, his voice echoing down the line. ‘It’s Lachlan. I was just heading off to my club and I thought of you. Would you like to join me for a drink?’

5

I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream

– Henry IV, Part I

Lucy turned her key in the lock, opening the black-painted door to her smart Edinburgh apartment. It smelled of polish and cleaning cream – Elena must have given the flat the once-over that morning. She’d left Lucy’s mail in a pile on the table by the entrance way, plus a fresh vase of spring flowers. One of the perks of having a cleaning service.

With the door wide ope

n, she turned to grab her suitcase, as a flash of orange and white dashed across the tiled hallway. A small, tabby cat slid past Lucy’s legs, her fur soft against Lucy’s calves. She lingered for a moment then made a dash for the warmth of the apartment.

‘Come here, cheeky,’ Lucy crooned, grabbing hold of the pint-sized feline. ‘There’s nothing for you in here. Where did you come from anyway?’

As she gently placed her back in the hall, the cat purred, her body vibrating against Lucy’s hands. Standing back up, Lucy went to grab her case and walk inside, and of course the cat ran back in before she could stop her.

Even with an intruder inside, stepping into her apartment made Lucy smile. She loved this place – had done ever since she’d bought it five years ago. A converted Georgian townhouse, in the heart of Edinburgh’s New Town, her home was an elegantly decorated two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, with a huge, modern kitchen that she hardly ever used. Though she liked the pale painted walls and the polished wooden floors, the thing that sold it to her when she first saw it had been the garden. A small, walled escape, filled with greenery, it was her favourite place to spend the afternoon in the summer.

Unpacking her clothes and throwing most of them in the laundry basket – Elena would sort them out – Lucy walked into her rainfall shower, letting the steamy droplets soothe her skin. When she stepped out, twisting a towel around her hair in a turban, and wrapping the rest of her body with a stark, white robe, she walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and filling it with fresh water.

Elena had restocked the fridge, too. There were some Waitrose ready meals and a couple of bags of salad, plus the usual milk, cheese and bread. Lucy grabbed the milk and a small bowl, filling it up and putting it on the floor. The tabby sashayed her way over and took a lick.

‘This is just me being polite,’ Lucy pointed out to the cat. ‘Don’t think you can take advantage, because when that milk’s gone, so are you.’

As if the cat could understand, she looked up, glancing at Lucy over the china bowl, before lowering her head and licking at the milk.

Lucy was about to make a coffee when her telephone started to buzz. She looked at the display, frowning when the number flashed up. She didn’t recognise it.

‘Hello?’