AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Elspeth, this is Malcolm.’
Elspeth held out a hand and shook Malcolm’s with a smile. ‘Pleasure to meet you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for having me in your home.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ he replied, with a curious look towards her middle. ‘I’m glad to have you both here.’
Fraser felt anger rising within him. Because his father did look pleased. More than pleased. He looked delighted, if a little confused, and Fraser could guess at what he was thinking. He was thinking that this meant a rapprochement, an improvement in relations with his only son. He thought that he was being forgiven.
Well, he could go on thinking that for as long as he wanted. It wasn’t going to make it happen. As soon as they were settled inside he would tell his father about the baby and explain that that was the only reason they were here. He would nip any expectations of reconciliation and forgiveness in the bud.
‘Well, come in from the cold, both of ye,’ Malcolm said after another awkward moment. ‘There’s a fire in the study—or the kitchen will be warm.’
‘The study will be fine,’ Fraser said, rejecting instinctively the idea of them all sitting around the range in the kitchen, scene of childhood lunches, hot chocolate and warm bread straight from the oven. The more formal study in the family apartments would be quite sufficient for making introductions and explanations. Then he and Elspeth could get to bed, and at least day one of this trip would be over.
Tomorrow he planned to be out through the door at dawn, looking over Ballanross. Making peace with his long absence and soaking up enough of the air to keep him going until the next time he had to come back.
He moved his hand from around Elspeth’s waist, sensing the stiffness and awkwardness in her body. But he couldn’t let her go entirely. When he moved his arm away he felt adrift, so he reached for her hand, hoping for an anchor. She laced her fingers between his and squeezed, and he let out a breath of relief that in her he had a friend and an ally.
But that was all he could think of her as. All he should expect from her. If he thought back to that moment that they had shared in the car, a moment that had promised so much more than friendship, he...
He couldn’t. It was too confusing. Too distracting. He was grateful for her support in seeing his father for the first time in fifteen years, but he mustn’t let himself be distracted by their attraction to one another. There were enough emotions, enough ghosts, flying around this castle without confusing one another by trying to make this relationship something that it could never be.
They followed Malcolm down a chilly corridor—so much colder than Fraser remembered from his childhood. Then, the grand formal rooms had been cold, but the small number of rooms where the family had really lived, where they’d spent their days—carpeted, centrally heated and free of cobwebs—had felt cosy.
In his father’s study, a small fire burned in the grate, but even with the flames dancing in front of him Fraser could feel the chill in the room. He tried not to take it as an omen. He should have warned Elspeth to pack extra layers. He wasn’t sure that a city girl like her could even conceive of the chill of a Highland castle in winter.
Or maybe he had just gone soft, he thought to himself, shivering again.
‘Sorry about the cold,’ Malcolm said, adding a couple of logs to the fire. ‘I’ve had it burning in here all day, but this place takes weeks to warm up if it gets cold. Well, you remember...’ he said, trying to meet Fraser’s eyes.
No, Fraser thought. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get t
o call on our shared history and pretend that nothing has happened. You don’t get to dip into my past and bring it into the present at will.
It was only as his anger subsided that he started to process his father’s words. Weeks to warm up? Why wasn’t the central heating on? And if that wasn’t enough to keep the place warm why wasn’t he burning a fire in here every day?
He looked around the study and found it much as he remembered it from fifteen years ago. His father’s old desk was laden with papers, and the same antique armchairs stood by the fire.
But the upholstery was worn through, showing the stuffing underneath. He didn’t know what had happened in the intervening years, but he remembered the furniture in here gleaming, proudly withstanding the decay that had claimed most pieces of that vintage. But now there was dust everywhere, knocks and rings showing on the wood and the smell of damp in the air. It was clear that standards had slipped considerably.
He shook his head, resisting the urge to interfere in the upkeep of the estate. It wasn’t his responsibility. Not anymore. Not yet.
When they were all seated by the fire his father looked at them both expectantly, and at last Fraser dropped Elspeth’s hand. It was hardly worth the gesture; his father would have jumped to conclusions already. And he missed the warmth of her. The reassurance. The feeling that they were in this as a team. But it was done now.
‘Father, my friend Elspeth and I are expecting a baby.’ He emphasised ‘friend’, hoping that it would get rid of the need for further explanations.
His father’s smile beamed from every feature, travelling from his mouth to his eyes, and taking in every line and crag of his skin in between.
‘Well, that’s wonderful news...’
Questions remained unspoken but hung in the room around him. And...? And we’re getting married... And we’re an item...
And it was none of his business, Fraser thought. He had long ago given up the right to ask those sorts of questions. They were here for the baby—not because he owed his father anything.
‘I’d like Ballanross to be a part of the baby’s life from the start. That’s why we’re here.’
That was what was important here. His child’s land and legacy. His family’s responsibility to the people who relied on the estate for their livelihoods. The privileges and responsibilities that his son or daughter would one day inherit.
‘Well, I’m very pleased to see you,’ Malcolm said, not seeming the least bit put out that Fraser had just told him that he hadn’t come here to see him. ‘And to hear your news. That’s wonderful. When is the baby due?’
