Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

‘I’ll need to move around a couple of things. There’s a meeting first thing tomorrow morning I can’t miss.’ She couldn’t believe she was agreeing to this. ‘But I could drive up and meet you there before lunch.’

‘That works for me. I’m heading up after breakfast, so it’ll give me a chance to scout things out. I’ll call the estate manager and let him know you’ll be coming.’ He reached out and touched her fingers, giving them a half-shake half-squeeze. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

And as he walked to his car, the driver jumping out to open the back door, she found herself staring at him, and wondering how on earth she’d got herself into this situation. Calm, confident and professional, wasn’t that what she was supposed to be?

Then why did she feel so flustered every time he was around?

13

Oh Scotland, Scotland

– Macbeth

The drive to the Highlands had taken just over three hours. Lucy had left Edinburgh in a mist of drizzle, the grey clouds casting a pall across the sandstone buildings of the city. But after she passed Perth and joined the A9, the rain turned to sleet, obscuring the views of the beautiful green hills that she knew were there. So much for springtime.

The entrance to the Glencarraig estate was through two huge wrought-iron gates, attached to brown walls that must have circled the land. She turned her car onto the sweeping gravel driveway, bordered on each side with majestic alder trees, which led to the rambling lodge. The large, castle-like building was surrounded by heather, the purple flowers almost coming into first bloom, reflected in the glass-like water. It felt like stepping back in time, to a Scotland she’d only learned about at university, a place where the clans ruled the land, and real men wore kilts.

The photographs she’d seen really didn’t do the place justice. And for the first time, she had a glimpse of exactly what Lachlan was fighting for.

By the time she’d parked up, next to a large Bentley and a smaller, sportier car, Lachlan had opened the main door and was walking down the steps. As she climbed out she could hear his feet crunching against the gravel.

A solitary snowflake drif

ted down from the heavy grey sky, landing on her cheek. She looked up, feeling it melt against her skin, leaving a cold wet kiss before it disappeared.

She shivered, in spite of the thick coat she was wearing.

‘Welcome to Glencarraig,’ Lachlan said, reaching out for her bag. ‘You made good time.’

He looked as relaxed as ever, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a light grey cashmere sweater that somehow matched their surroundings. She took in a deep breath of Highland air, feeling the rush of oxygen relax her. She’d been looking forward to seeing him again, and yet dreading it at the same time. But now she was here, everything felt right.

‘I’m disappointed,’ she said, glancing down at his legs. ‘I was expecting a kilt.’

He grinned, leading her over to the steps that led up to the lodge. ‘I thought I’d save that for later. Didn’t want to send you into a frenzy as soon as you arrived.’

She stifled a laugh. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’

‘I bet you will.’

A man was standing in the entranceway, where the black lacquered doors had been opened wide. He was older – maybe fifty or so – and wearing a pair of brown woollen trousers and a tweed jacket, patched at the elbows.

‘How long have you been here?’ she asked Lachlan, as they made their way up the stairs.

‘I got here about an hour ago. Alistair let me in.’ He nodded at the man who was watching them. ‘He’s the estate manager.’

Alistair walked forward to meet them as they reached the top of the steps. ‘Miss Shakespeare, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He had a low Scottish brogue – it sounded almost lyrical. ‘There’s coffee brewing in the kitchen, and the cook has made some biscuits for you.’

She shook his hand, enjoying its warmth against her cold skin. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. And please call me Lucy.’

‘Lucy it is.’

They made their way into the hall, a huge double-storeyed room with a sweeping staircase that flanked both sides. Lachlan placed her bag on the floor, and they followed the older man, who Lucy assumed was leading them to the kitchen.

‘Alistair’s worked here for over thirty years,’ Lachlan said as they made their way down the corridor. The floor was laid with huge grey flagstones – beautiful to look at but no doubt freezing on the feet. ‘He started off looking after the livestock and worked his way up.’

‘You must have seen it all.’ They finally reached the kitchen. Lucy could feel the warmth hit her as soon as they stepped inside. It smelled of vanilla and sugar, a delicious combination. Her stomach rumbled at the onslaught.

‘Things have changed quite a lot over the years,’ Alistair said. ‘We’ve renovated the lodge, built up the salmon stock, and then of course had broadband put in, which wasn’t easy with us being so remote.’ He looked pleased at being asked. ‘There’s a lot more to do, of course. This heating system needs a total overhaul, and we’ve been in constant talks with the phone networks about trying to improve the signal.’ He smiled. ‘For our visitors, it’s a blessing and a curse being so remote and cut off.’