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“This is not the place for that sort of thing,” a woman said. “Get yourselves away from here and do that in the privacy of your own bedroom.”
“Aye,” a man snapped. “You’re setting a bad example for the weans.”
“What weans?” Duncan said. “There’s only the two of you standing around gawking at us.”
“Connie,” the man said. “Get your phone out and call the grandkids. We’ll have them up here in no time, then we’ll see who thinks there are no weans around.”
Donna giggled as she peeked out of Duncan’s hold to see two tiny old people, wrapped up in winter coats, scarves and hats. She guessed they hadn’t got the memo that it was spring either. The man had puffed out his chest and was glaring at Duncan. Donna giggled again. Even if the couple stood on each other’s shoulders, they still wouldn’t be big enough to take him on.
“Come on,” Duncan said on a sigh. “Let’s go home.”
He lifted her and placed her on her feet before swinging his leg over the bench and standing beside her. He wrapped an arm around Donna’s shoulders and walked her to the car.
When he passed the old couple, he paused. “The bench is all yours. See if you can beat our record.” He glanced at his watch. “Over half an hour. Good luck.”
The man started to bluster as Duncan opened the car for Donna and helped her in.
“The grandkids are coming,” the woman said as she put her phone back in her pocket. “Now what?” She’d obviously missed Duncan’s comment.
Her husband turned to her, and his face went beetroot red. “We’re no’ kissing like teenagers if that’s what you’re thinking. That necking stuff isn’t contagious.”
Duncan slammed her door shut, and Donna missed his wife’s reply. Which was a shame, because the look on her face promised something priceless.
With a shake of his head, Duncan put the car in gear and took off down the road. Donna was still smiling about the old couple when he spoke.
“What was the question I had to answer in exchange for the song?”
A dull pain settled in her heart. “I’ll ask you later.” And she reached for his hand and held it tight.
Chapter 23
When he pulled up in front of the mansion, Duncan turned off the engine, then leaned forwards to rest his arms over the steering wheel. He looked at the building he’d come to view more as a prison than a home, and part of him didn’t want to go inside. Out on the bluff, with Donna in his arms, he’d felt light and carefree. He knew that as soon as he walked through that door, he’d feel the weight of his responsibilities to Fiona bear down on him.
He felt Donna’s timid touch on his thigh and looked over to see compassion on her face. There were moments, times like this, when he could have sworn she was able to read his mind.
“Have you been inside the carriage house yet?” she said. “The builders finished it yesterday.”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Why don’t we go have a look?”
He nodded and restarted the car, driving past the mansion around to the back and out to where the carriage house sat. The small building was built in the same style as the main house, so it was basically a smaller grey cube with windows. Except, the three old wooden doors on the front of the building had been replaced by glass, turning them into large arched windows.
Duncan parked by the side door and followed Donna. She smiled at him before letting them into the house.
“All Fiona’s plans stated for the carriage house was that she wanted it turned into guest accommodation,” Donna said as she led him into the large open-plan space. “Since it was an empty shell, there weren’t any original features to work with, so we kept it simple.”
Duncan walked into the middle of the room. The arched windows sat at the front of the building, with the living area, kitchen and dining in front of them. Behind that were three doors, leading to the back of the building. The walls were painted a pale yellow, and the furnishings were dark wood with white accents and yellow cushions. The space was bright, airy and—although still classical—much more modern than the main house.
Donna walked over to one of the doors. “There are two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.” She opened the door wide for him to look inside. The room was decorated in white and sailor blue. She pointed to the middle door. “That’s a small bathroom and laundry.”
Her shy gaze met his. “What do you think?”
He could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders that she was nervous about his reaction. He didn’t know why as she’d gone over the basic plans with him and he’d told her to do what she liked. The result was something Fiona would have approved of, and something that also appealed to him. She’d managed to find the perfect middle ground between his and his wife’s tastes.
“I think it’s perfect.” He reached for her hand. “Truth be told, I’d rather live here than in the mansion.”
Her cheeks flushed at his praise.
