Page 109 of A Scottish Island Summer

I dropped my eyes to the carpet. My insides were churning. ‘Did he say when he might be back?’

‘No. He didn’t.’

Disappointment gave way to leaden realisation. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t want to set eyes on me. He didn’t trust me. Lord knows what he thought of me. In the beginning, he’d viewed me as an entitled spoilt social media princess who needed a reality check. That was probably polite compared to what he thought of me now. And yet, the way he’d encouraged me to embrace Skye when I first arrived… He’d ignored me when I’d been sarcastic or flippant, just rubbed his stubble and flashed that million-dollar grin of his as he teased me, encouraged me, willed me on.

I wrapped my arms around myself, fighting to keep the wobble from my voice. ‘I head back to London next week. Please let me help you in the meantime, if I can, with trying to locate the whereabouts of the cross. I know I’ll probably be about as much use to you as a chocolate fireguard, but I need to make amends and show you how genuinely sorry I am. To both you and Logan.’

Campbell’s eyes shone at me with understanding.

‘You’ve still got that copy of the letter that Elliot Becker gave you?’

‘Yes.’

I took a step closer to him, my features pleading. ‘Then let me help you.’ I could feel more frustrated tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. ‘I know in all likelihood I’ll be more of a hindrance than a help to you, Campbell, but please. I need to do this.’

Campbell reached out one hand and patted my dressing gown sleeve. ‘We’ve all done things at one time or another that we aren’t proud of.’ He hesitated and gave me a long look. ‘That video you made, you didn’t have to do that. And you do realise there’s now a chance that your publishers won’t want to proceed with your travel guide?’

My shoulders shrugged under my dressing gown. ‘I know that, and I don’t care.’ I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand. ‘I’ve spent a few years now endorsing places which I didn’t always rate or saying things I wasn’t sure about, or that maybe didn’t sit as comfortably with me as they should’ve.’ I stood up straighter. ‘It’s time for that to stop. And if they do pull the plug on my travel guide, I’ll deal with it.’

Campbell eyed me. ‘And you’re OK if your social media career is tarnished?’

‘I don’t care about that either. I mean it. It was like the scales were falling from my eyes when I made that recording last night.’

‘And what has the response been like?’

I laced and unlaced my hands. ‘I haven’t looked, but my phone’s been bleeping and pinging like a faulty microwave. I also blocked my agent’s number last night. She’s proven she can’t be trusted.’

Campbell’s brows fired up. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

I nodded my head so hard; I almost cricked my neck in the process. ‘For the first time in a long time, I feel like I do.’

Campbell gave me a quizzical look. ‘When you were talking on your video about finding something precious and never letting go, it wasn’t the Skye Lovers’ Cross you were referring to, was it?’

I bit my lip. Was it that obvious?

Campbell moved towards the door to leave. ‘I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get ready. Then you and I can have breakfast together.’ He patted his jeans pocket. ‘And you can take a look at this letter from Victoria McPherson.’

I bit back grateful tears. ‘Thank you.’

Campbell offered me a sympathetic smile. ‘Well, off you go then and be quick about it please. I’m hankering after Kathleen’s poached eggs!’

* * *

I prodded my scrambled egg and tomato, wondering why I’d ordered it. I didn’t feel hungry and couldn’t focus on food when flashes of what had happened—the disappointment and hurt radiating out of Logan before he took off, and me, hunched over, tearful, making that video—kept erupting inside my mind.

Campbell’s concerned gaze reached across the table. ‘You have to eat something.’

I set down my fork.

‘You can’t keep blaming yourself, Darcie.’

‘Can’t I?’

‘No.’

At my elbow, my phone let out a spurt of blips again. I’d debated whether to switch it off, but a glimmer of hope that Logan might make contact had persuaded me otherwise. That was fading fast though, given he hadn’t so far.

I glanced down at my phone with reluctance.