“I’m sorry,” Cameron said coolly, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
Oliver would have smiled if he’d had it in him. Cameron’s tone was so chilly it made him shiver. His father might have been a git of the first water, but he was no fool. Either that or he had a great deal of experience in being cut in public by those with much loftier titles than his own.
“My most abject apologies, of course,” the good viscount said. “Aldous Phillips, Viscount Felkirk, at your service. My wife, Ondine.”
Oliver was slightly surprised to find his sister hadn’t been introduced, but then again, he likely shouldn’t have expected anything else. He glanced at her to find she was looking at him less in horror than desperation. He understood that, but there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it at the moment. He could, however, get on with the speech he’d been rehearsing silently for two decades, the one where he would tell his parents exactly what he thought of them. He put his hands on Mairead’s shoulders, gently set her aside, then stepped up to stand next to Cameron so he might do just that.
He looked at his über-boss briefly and found only acceptance in Cameron’s expression, then a quick lifting of one eyebrow thatgenerally augured verbal fireworks to come. Oliver had seen that look turned on annoying nobility more than once and been quite happy not to be in the man’s sights.
But this was his family and he’d waited a very long time to exact at least some sort of revenge. He shot Cameron a look that he hoped said very clearly that he had dibs on taking his father down a peg, but Cameron only smiled.
“I’ll draw first blood,” he said in Gaelic.
Well, there was that, at least. He didn’t protest when he found Cameron’s arm placed around his shoulders. He imagined his father was very fortunate Cameron had left his sword at home.
“You might recognize this man,” Cameron said, with a crispness to his consonants that would have put any BBC Four presenter to shame. “A member of my family and an irreplaceable part of my company’s exclusive inner circle. I would find it... unfortunate if he were to be made unhappy by a chance encounter on the street.”
And with that, Cameron looked at him and inclined his head slightly, the invitation unmistakable.
Oliver looked at his parents, his mother very pale and his father patting himself, no doubt for his smelling salts.
“Well, of course,” Felkirk said faintly. “It’s been a bit, hasn’t it, son?”
Oliver started to speak, then found that, as usual, silence was a better option for him. And as he stood there, he felt a little as if his life were flashing before his eyes.
A month ago, he probably would have punched his father full in the face and sworn at his mother. Hell, two minutes ago he was fully prepared to do the same. He wasn’t proud of that, but he had to be honest with himself.
But somehow when it came right down to it, things had changed.
He looked next to him and found Mairead there, watching him with nothing but love and acceptance in her eyes. She felt for his hand and he surrendered it to her just as readily as he had his heart. And when he touched her, he found himself with that same gentle sweetness washing over him that he realized had been her influence over the whole of his life, beyond any reason and surely beyond anything he’d deserved. It almost took his breath away.
It occurred to him at that moment that perhaps it wasn’t so much a matter of absolving his parents from their part in the misery of his young life as it was letting go of his own bitterness over the same.
He looked at the people he loved, his family that he’d been loved into, then at the family that had at least brought him into the world but never loved him. And the bridge between the two was the woman standing next to him who still thought she had no beauty, a woman with which he would start his own loving family, a woman who had given him a gift he had finally just understood.
Perhaps he had been the means of rescuing her but she had, in turn, shown him how much better his life could be to let go of the past and move on.
He squeezed her hand, then turned back to his father and gave him his most polite client smile.
“My lord,” he said, inclining his head. He looked at his mother. “My lady.”
His father gestured inelegantly at Mairead. “Is that your girlfriend?”
Oliver stared at his parents for a moment or two in silence, then glanced at Cameron. “We should be on our way, my lord.”
“As you will, Oliver,” Cameron said with a nod. “Let’s gather up our ladies and see what delights Inverness has to offer. Such a fantastic city we have here, wouldn’t you agree?”
Oliver glanced at Mairead, had the briefest of smiles from her, then turned and walked away with her at his side.
“Brutal,” Ewan said, taking a place on his right. “And so well deserved.”
Oliver nodded, though he didn’t imagine he would manage to say anything for a few minutes.
“Was that your sister?” Mairead asked quietly.
Oliver could only nod. He could feel his lady looking at him, but the last thing he wanted to do—for a change—was look at her because he knew exactly what she was thinking. He finally stopped, then looked at her reluctantly. She only leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’re a good man.”
