Page 96 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

I’d pretended to lose a contact lens at the entrance and asked the young man in question to help me look for it. While he’d been stooped over, peering at the snowy step, Mitch had managed to slip Reece inside.

Once the coast was clear and I knew Reece was safely ensconced in the gallery, I’d let out a tinkly laugh. ‘Oh, silly me! I’m so sorry! I’ve just found my lens on my coat collar.’ I pretended to angle the non-existent lens into my right eye. A mime artist would’ve been impressed.

The man at the door pushed out a strained smile. ‘At least you found it, miss.’

‘How are you feeling?’ I hissed out of the corner of my mouth at Mitch, once the three of us had deposited our coats with the cloakroom attendant, a welcoming young woman in glittery eye make-up.

‘I’ve felt better,’ he answered with a rueful look.

‘To be honest, me too,’ I confessed. ‘I know all this was my idea, but I’m still nervous.’

‘I hope you’re not having second thoughts, Rosie.’

‘No.’

Mitch attempted to make me laugh. ‘I just hope someone doesn’t ask me anything too intricate about my artistic technique.’ He waggled one brow suggestively.

I grinned up at him. ‘Well, I know for a fact that you’ve been a bit of a swot.’

‘What?’

I offered him a knowing look. ‘I didn’t tell you at the time, but the morning after I got plastered and fell asleep at yours I spotted two art books in your bedroom. You’ve been reading up and making notes.’

Mitch looked coy. ‘Ah.’

I slipped my hand in his and leant up to deliver a kiss on his mouth. ‘Just when I think I can’t fall for you anymore.’

He smiled playfully against my lips. ‘Just keep the kisses coming, Red.’

Red. By coincidence, he’d started using the nickname Barclay had for me since I was a kid. I mentally toasted Barclay and Mags and took a sip of my champagne.

Ruth was holding court on the gallery floor, clutching her champagne glass as she chatted to a couple of older men. One was sporting a pair of round, pillar box red spectacles and the other was dressed in a lime-green waistcoat.

She was decked out in a sharp trouser suit in dove grey.

I kept myself concealed behind Mitch for the time being, while Reece also tried to remain in the background, flitting here and there and helping himself to the canapés.

I didn’t want Ruth clocking me as soon as we’d arrived. She would rumble us in no time.

While Mitch shook hands with a couple of the local councillors who congratulated him on his stunning art, I gazed around at my grandma’s pieces adorning the claret walls of the gallery.

It was as if the paintings were looking right at me. They were bursting with colour and life, enhanced by the discreet spotlights above them.

My mouth flipped into a smile. What a woman she’d been. So full of creativity and joy, despite her engagement to Reece coming to an abrupt end. Then she’d met my grandfather, devoted herself to him and my mum and allowed her artistic ambitions to slide into more of a hobby.

Now, all these years later, her dreams of having her work exhibited had finally happened – albeit posthumously. I thought about her portraits of her ex-fiancée and her husband. I buried an admiring chuckle.

What a woman!

I just hoped that she was looking down out of that tumble of hair of hers and smiling with pride. She deserved this.

As I’d suggested, there was a nod to her love of butterflies, with tea and coffee being served from butterfly-sprigged crockery.

There were also glasses of Talisker on offer. Tonight was all about my much-loved and much-missed grandma.

I glanced up and noticed that Mitch was watching me. He looked so dashing in his three-piece charcoal suit, grey shirt and lavender tie. A journalist was asking him about his artwork. ‘I just follow where my inspiration takes me,’ he answered smoothly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He made a beeline for me through the body of people. He whispered into my ear. ‘I’m hoping I don’t have to bullshit my way through any more questions. I’ve managed to draw on what I’ve read up about, on the technique side of things, but I’d prefer if we didn’t have to keep this up for much longer.’

I nodded emphatically up at him. ‘As soon as Ruth is about to introduce you, that’s when we’ll come clean.’