Page 97 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

Corrie nodded. “Thank you. Ezra, Denise, and the rest of the entourage should be here soon.”

“Oh, you didn’t travel with them?” asked Mum.

“No,” answered Corrie briskly. “I had some things to attend to.”

Mum gazed past my shoulder, smiling at Amber and Rowan, who were still hugging the floral displays they were holding while admiring the vaulted ceiling. “Your staff seem like nice girls.”

Staff?! “They’re my colleagues and friends, Mum.”

“Of course they are, darling. Oh, excuse me one moment.”

Mum left to direct an anguished-looking man in overalls who clearly hadn’t yet benefitted from her precise instructions.

I turned to Amber and Rowan. “Right, ladies. Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my old bedroom, I placed one hand on my stomach and gulped with a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the night ahead.

I had piled my waves up into a messy chignon and slipped into a full-length champagne-coloured dress with spaghetti straps, which I’d bought to cheer myself up post-Declan and then never worn.

Although I did feel rather glamorous as I studied my reflection, I couldn’t disguise the trepidation in my eyes. I could hear the hum of voices and detect the clinking of cutlery in the Great Hall.

God, I hoped tonight went well. Ezra, Caroline, and Laura had gone through an emotional rollercoaster and from where I was standing, this party of Ezra’s was a two-fingered salute to the people who’d been threatening him.

I adjusted one of my dangly earrings and glanced down again at my mobile on the dressing table. I’d made three more attempts this afternoon to reach Marcus, but he still wasn’t picking up. I wished I had him here tonight for support.

Checking my appearance again in the mirror, I picked up my mobile and dialled Marcus once more. Still nothing.

I threw the phone onto my bed in frustration. Maybe I should give him some space and wait for him to contact me.

I looked down at my watch. It was approaching 6pm and the party was due to begin in an hour. My stomach swished with nerves. I just hoped everything was going to go smoothly and there were no dramas. Nobody would try to do anything stupid, surely. Ezra had kept his invitee list very selective and there were security people here, to check in the guests as they arrived.

I stood at the window with its brocade cherry-red curtains and rope tie-backs.

It seemed so long ago since this had been my room. I looked out onto the mermaid fountain, which Marcus and I adored so much as kids. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

There was a discreet rap on the door. When I said, “Come in,” Amber and Rowan entered, looking gorgeous in all their finery.

Rowan’s red waves were intricately styled and she was wearing a stunning electric-blue boat neck dress. Amber, meanwhile, looked equally glamorous in a lemon-coloured knee-length dress which had transparent lacy sleeves caught at the wrists with big buttons. She had undone her usual plaits and opted for a tousled ponytail instead.

We broke into appreciative smiles and gasps and admired each other’s outfits. It was obvious how excited they both were about this evening. I wished I could relax and enjoy it the way they were obviously planning to. I wondered when Ezra, Caroline, and Laura were going to arrive.

“Ezra’s been looking for you,” announced Amber. “He’s just arrived with Caroline and Laura and a very glamorous blonde woman who looks like Dolly Parton.”

“Ah, I bet that’s Denise Gold, his manager.”

“Yeah, and he’s busy charming the pants off your mum.”

“Thanks for that image.”

I reached for my clutch bag on the dressing table and popped my phone into it. “You two head downstairs. I’ll be right behind you.”

I watched the two of them, visions of elegance, negotiate the grand staircase in their heels.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, then swished down the carpeted corridor, the paintings on the wall of gun dogs and ancestors in sumptuous gowns and brocade and breeches following my every step.

Mum had designated the four bedrooms towards the rear of the house as places where guests could freshen up, and I recalled Mum saying to Corrie she’d been allocated the fourth and last room, which was the one with the claw-footed bath. It also possessed views of the kitchen garden, where our trusted gardeners grew an assortment of fresh vegetables for Mrs Bamber to conjure into delicious meals.