Page 93 of The Cottage in the Highlands

I glanced over at Lily and Flynn senior, still engaged in conversation by the cottage steps.

I was struggling to look Flynn in the eyes.

“Leonie?”

I swallowed a mouthful of woodland air, the words tripping over my tongue as I said them. “Someone’s told my editor the identity of Chandler. They know he’s your grandfather. They’re going to write an exclusive on it.”

It took a few agonising moments for this revelation to register in Flynn’s handsome face. The soft, gentle way he was looking at me collapsed. His expression contorted. “What? Are you joking?”

“This had nothing to do with me,” I insisted, pleading with him to believe me; to understand.

“Then how the hell did they find out?” hissed Flynn, dropping his voice while his grandfather and Lily carried on talking.

“I didn’t tell them! Someone must have overheard us talking.”

Flynn narrowed his eyes at me. They were swimming with suspicion. “And you expect me to believe that?”

The heavy, wounding realisation that he thought it was me stole the breath from my chest. He still didn’t trust me. In a way, I couldn’t blame him. I was a journalist who had been told a red-hot exclusive that any magazine or newspaper would have been desperate to scoop.

And I’d told him at the time that if his grandfather ever wanted to reveal his Chandler identity, I would be more than happy to cover it.

But it still didn’t change the fact that I hadn’t betrayed his trust.

I never would.

I stared up at him through a haze of hurt. The words lodged in my throat. “I knew it. You think it was me who told my editor, don’t you?”

“Well how else would your magazine find out? You know my family are really careful around the media.” He folded his arms. “What an exclusive, eh? Wasn’t that what you said? A real career booster, if ever there was one.”

Pain and frustration piled in on me as Flynn threw my earlier words back at me.

“Yes, I admit I did say that. But I didn’t tell her about your grandfather.” Frustrated tears clotted in my eyes. “You think I could betray you and your grandfather like that? After all I’ve said?”

Flynn arched one livid brow. Pain clawed at his handsome, dark features. “You’re a journalist, Leonie.”

“What?” I blurted back. “Like Rachel?”

Flynn’s black brows gathered. His Adam's apple rose up and down. “Well, you said it.” His voice was heavy with pain.

I took a couple of faltering steps backwards. So that was it. That was why he had struggled to trust me.

Lily had caught sight of our exchange over Flynn senior’s shoulder. She switched her attention to us and was now watching.

“Yes, I am a journalist and a bloody good one.” I thrust my phone back into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. My heart felt like it had plummeted to the floor. “I also stick by a promise when I make one, but you obviously don’t believe that.”

I bit my lip, my emotions swirling inside of me. “What Rachel did to you was wrong, but I’m not her.”

I tossed my head back, hoping he couldn’t detect the jagged tremble in my voice. “The fact that you could even think I would be capable of breaking my promise and doing something like that to you and your family…”

I whirled round and proceeded to march away, tears glittering in the corners of my eyes.

“Where are you going?” Flynn yelled after me.

“Like you care. I’m calling a taxi and going home.”

I blundered away from Merry Wood and Lily’s cottage, gulping back hot tears. I just wanted to put as much distance between me and Flynn’s untrusting, wounded face as possible.

Chapter Thirty-One