Page 65 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

She linked one arm through mine and steered me towards the lounge. “You can talk to me about anything, darling. You know that. It’s not about your business, is it?”

“Oh, nothing like that. Things are going well.”

“That’s great. Then what is it? Oh, I’m thrilled you’re here!”

We approached the panelled door of the lounge.

“I’ve come to talk to you about Marcus.”

Mum’s jewelled right hand flew to the oval pendant around her neck. She proceeded to play with it. “Yes. Awful. That bastard Jacob.” She paused. “I understand Marcus came to stay with you for a few days while I was in New York. Your father told me.”

I levelled my gaze at her. “He did.”

Mum’s dark blue eyes glistened with something. “So, what is it, sweetheart?”

The square heels of my taupe suede boots tapped on the floor, as Mum’s manicured hand reached out for the handle and opened the lounge door.

“Jacob came here for dinner with you, right before he ended it with Marcus.”

Mum stiffened. She opened her glossy mouth to say something, but I cut her off with a raised palm. “And before you go saying anything else, I know Dad wasn’t here at the time. He was away on his annual golf jaunt with the boys.”

Mum squirmed in her high-heeled boots.

“Well, am I right?”

Her complexion tightened under her make-up.

We stepped together into the sunlit lounge. “I think we need to talk, Mum.”

I followed her into what Mum liked to call our “drawing room” but it was more like a second sitting room, decked out with a walnut-coloured sofa, armchairs, and a huge vanilla stone fireplace, which was now festooned with a frothy, festive garland of silver leaves and holly. A smaller Christmas tree was stationed in the far corner, dripping with gold baubles.

She had redecorated since I’d last been here and the walls were now painted pale apricot, instead of toffee.

I also noted Dad had finally got his own way and there was now a fifty-inch plasma TV stationed in the top left corner of the room.

I sank down into one of the armchairs and propped a velvet cushion at my back. Outside the window, the morning sun swept across the manicured lawn and flower beds, which were bearing odd clots of heather and some hardy winter plants of baby pink cyclamen, witch hazel and red-studded viburnum. Frost danced across the lawns. Christmas was flirting with everyone’s senses.

Mum seated herself opposite me. “You have a different air about you.”

“I feel different, Mum. In a good way.” It was strange. I’d expected Declan’s malevolent spirit to jump out at me as soon as I stepped back into Bannock House, but it hadn’t happened. There were no painful memories flooding my brain. Instead, he’d just fizzled into the background, like some fancy firework that had failed to spark. I wouldn’t take responsibility for Declan anymore, or for what he did to me. He was consigned to history, along with my party-girl past.

Shards of optimism glowed in me. I really was moving on with my life at last.

Could Zach be a part of my new life?

I appraised Mum’s long, slender legs angled to one side. I’d always been rather in awe of her. She was always so self-assured; an inherent sense of self-worth beamed out of her like a beacon.

I decided to get straight to the point. “So, why did you invite Jacob over for dinner?”

An odd look flitted across her features. She lifted a slim wrist and brushed a hair away from her face. “He was going to be my son-in-law. What’s so strange about asking him over?”

“What’s so strange is that you didn’t tell Marcus you were inviting his fiancé over for dinner. If it was all so innocent, why not mention it? And why did you want to see Jacob on your own?”

Mum let out an unconvincing laugh. “Darling, what’s this about?”

“I take it you haven’t told Dad about this?”

Mum’s dark blue eyes glittered out of her face. “What is this, Anastasia? I didn’t realise I had to run my social events by the rest of the family.”