Page 114 of A Secret Scottish Escape

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Confusion and fear pressed down on my shoulders. “It doesn’t say that here. It doesn’t say anything like that at all.”

Hazel sank down on the edge of the bed and laced her fingers together in her lap. “Well, it wouldn’t, would it? Not all the facts were known then.”

I realised I had let the newspaper cutting slip out of my hand and it had fluttered down to land on the paisley carpet.

I was struggling. “What facts?”

She made a frustrated sighing noise. “He made it out of that accident alive and without a scratch.”

I shook my head so fiercely that my plait jumped against my back. “That’s not true. Rafe has a vivid red scar down the right side of his face. He must have sustained that during the crash.”

Hazel narrowed her cold eyes. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” I insisted. “I’ve seen it myself.” I tried to appeal to her common sense as I slotted pieces of the story together in my own head.

“That must be why Rafe became a recluse, why he didn’t release his debut album, why he disappeared from the music scene for a long time, and why he wears that mask – why he hides from the world behind it.”

Hazel got up and paced backwards and forwards in front of me. “I don’t believe you,” she announced, chewing her bottom lip. “After the crash, we never saw Rafe again. He didn’t even have the balls to come to Emily’s funeral.” The fury in her words echoed around the room. “If that isn’t guilt, I don’t know what is.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Hazel challenged me with an icy stare. “My sister died and he walked away.” She angled her head towards the window. “Now he’s living as this Mask character. He’s got women like you swooning all over him—”

“I’m not swooning,” I bit back, but Hazel ignored me, tangled up in her own web of grief and anger.

Her gaze hardened as she stared ahead at the sweeping countryside and she spun round to face me. “Well, if he thinks he can just live his life and forget all about what he did to Emily and to our family, he’s sadly mistaken.” Her voice was resentful.

She returned her attention to the middle distance, captivated for a moment by the squares of rich fields laid out through the window. “I’m going to tell everyone what than man is capable of. Let’s see how well his flourishing music career does then.”

Chapter Sixty

My skin prickled at the sight of this woman’s grief and resentment gnawing away at her from the inside out.

I knew I had to speak to Rafe. I had to hear the story from him.

Whether he would be prepared to discuss it with me was anyone’s guess, but I had to try. He had made the decision to reveal his scar to me. That must mean we had an element of trust between us. It had meant so much.

I rose slowly from the chair and slung my bag back over my shoulder. I was struggling to digest it all.

Hazel appraised me. “Where are you going?”

I maintained as much of a steady voice as I could manage. “I’m going to head home,” I lied. “And I’m so very sorry about your sister.”

Hazel’s plucked brows dipped. “You must think I’m stupid. You’re going to see him, aren’t you?”

I moved towards the closed door and closed my fingers around the cool handle. I was determined to sound calm. “No. I told you, I’m going to go home. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

I hoped my words were said with enough conviction to placate her.

I maintained eye contact and, after a lengthy pause, she gave the lightest of nods. “I’m sorry, but you needed to know the truth about him.” Then she broke into a smile, which wrong-footed me. “I know he’s very handsome and charming, but don’t feel bad. He manages to fool everyone. He even fooled me once…”

What did that mean? A sudden, slow-burning realisation took hold and wouldn’t let go. Was that Hazel’s way of saying she had been in love with Rafe? Did she still love him?

I popped open the door.

She straightened her shoulders. “Drive home safely.”

I was relieved to escape the confines of Hazel’s guest room, to dart back down the stairs and out into the descending Friday night darkness.