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She was starting to see a clearer picture now. She’d been making assumptions. But it was clear to her now that, in Callan’s head, Angus had been his father figure. The person he’d relied on, the person he’d looked up to. How would she feel if she were in his shoes?
His arms were still around her waist. Her hand was still on his cheek. She almost felt frozen in time. She could stay like this for ever.
For the first time, in a long time, she felt as if she was home. Home in Callan McGregor’s arms. The realisation was startling. It didn’t matter how she felt about Angus McLean. She had to respect the fact that, for Callan, he’d been family.
‘What happened to your own mum and dad, Callan?’
It was an intrusive question and she felt him bristle under her touch. But it was just the two of them, with no interruptions. If she wanted to understand Callan McGregor better, she had to ask.
His eyes fixed on hers and she could almost see his mind jumble around trying to decide what to say. ‘My mother was never really around. I’m not entirely sure what happened in their marriage. It was only me and my dad since I was a young boy. My dad would never talk about her.’
‘Do you remember anything about her?’
‘I remember the police coming to the door of our house when I was fifteen to tell my dad she was dead. I was more or less staying with Angus all the time by then, but I went home on occasion.’
‘What happened to her?’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t actually find out until years later. She had a mental health condition—schizophrenia. She’d taken an accidental overdose.’
‘That’s awful. Do you think she left because of her mental health problem?’
‘No. I think she left because of my dad.’
His answer was instant. The next question was poised on her lips, but something told her not to ask it. Not to pry. Callan took several deep breaths. Even sharing that little part of himself had been hard for him.
He pulled back and she was surprised by how hurt she felt as he walked across the room, picking up the plates and cups and putting them on the tray.
She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to stay here, with her. And that made her insides curl up in confusion.
‘I’ll take these back to the kitchen. Are you baking today?’
The conversation was clearly over. At least that part of it was.
She took a deep breath and smiled. ‘I think Marion has me lined up to make a raspberry cheesecake and some more gingerbread.’
‘You could leave the staff to it, you know.’
‘No. I couldn’t. I like being in the kitchen. Next to this room—’ she held out her arms ‘—it’s the place I feel most at home.’
She hadn’t meant to say it like that. She hadn’t meant to imply that she was thinking of this place as home. Because she wasn’t. Really she wasn’t. Her mind was getting jumbled with the huge range of emotions Annick Castle was conjuring up for her. And something flickered across his face. A look of discomfort, that was quickly replaced by a quick nod of the head.
‘I’m going to go for another walk later—back around the grounds. Or, do you want me to help you with Angus’s boxes?’ It was a measured question. It was her trying to offer a hand of friendship.
Was she really comfortable making that offer? Who was she to go through Angus’s things? Grandfather or not, she hadn’t known him and never would. Not the way Callan had.
But she’d seen the look in Callan’s eyes earlier. She’d seen how hurt he was, how he was struggling with his bereavement. And while she didn’t have any loyalty to Angus, she did have a burning desire to support Callan.
She’d been there. She knew how hard this was. Her mother had fallen to pieces and if it hadn’t been for her university friends, she would have too. Having people around to support you made all the difference.
Callan shook his head. ‘I’ll be fine. I probably won’t get much done today. I have to make some calls and answer some emails for the day job.’
She smiled. ‘You mean you need to Blether?’
He laughed. ‘Absolutely. I need to Blether.’
She took a deep breath. This was difficult. She was struggling with this. She didn’t really know who Callan McGregor was. But he’d shared a little of himself with her today. He’d held her at the bottom of the cliff steps. He’d kissed her last night. He’d hugged her today. This was the closest she’d got to a man in months. And he set every nerve in her body on fire. There was something between them. For her, there were blurred lines all over the place. She just wasn’t sure what this was.
‘Well, you know where I’ll be if you’re looking for me.’ Her eyes fixed on his.
And he held her gaze. For longer than ever before. She could practically hear the air in the room sizzle between them. Was something else going to happen?
He tore his gaze away and fixed a smile on his face. ‘Yes, I do. Thanks, Laurie.’ Then he picked up the tray and disappeared down the corridor.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
* * *
At first glance the kitchen seemed empty and Laurie walked across the room and started washing her hands at one of the Belfast sinks. It only took her a few minutes to collect all the ingredients from the larder, including the fresh raspberries that had been picked from the castle gardens this morning. She breathed in deeply; they smelled gorgeous.
She lifted the large glass mixing bowl and whisk out from the cupboard at her feet and started adding her ingredients for the cheesecake. Marion appeared at her elbow. ‘Hi, Laurie, are you sure you’re still happy to help?’
She jumped about a foot in the air. ‘Where on earth did you come from, Marion? I was sure there was no one else in here.’
Marion laughed and tapped the side of her nose. ‘I’m like the genie in the lamp. I know all the hiding places around this kitchen.’
Laurie stared at her for a few seconds, trying to work out if she was joking or not.
Marion smiled. ‘I was in the pantry. You were so deep in concentration that you didn’t notice me when I came out. What are you fretting about? Is it about the castle?’
Laurie set down the wooden spoon she held in her hand. ‘No. It’s not about the castle. Not at all.’ She looked around her. ‘But that’s probably what I should be worrying about, isn’t it?’
‘Aha.’
‘Aha? What does that mean?’ Marion was giving her a strange kind of smile as she started to collect her own set of ingredients.
‘It means I always know what’s going on in this place.’
‘Well, I don’t. Why don’t you share it with me?’
Marion was practically chuckling. ‘I bet it was Callan that was on your mind.’
Her cheeks flushed instantly. The woman was a mind reader. ‘Why do you think that?’ Had people noticed they’d been spending time together?
‘Because I’ve been here a long time. I notice things. I particularly notice things when it comes to Callan.’ Her voice had a little protective edge to it. ‘I heard about the kiss,’ she added.
‘How long have you been here, Marion?’ Curiosity was piquing her interest, particularly now Callan had revealed a little part of himself to her.
‘More than forty years.’ She said the figure with pride.
‘And you haven’t thought about retiring?’ She knew instantly it had been the wrong thing to say as Marion bristled.
‘I have no intention of retiring,’ she said stiffly. ‘As long as I can still do my job I’ll be here.’
