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‘You are doing something,’ Fraser said, letting go of her hand and rubbing the swell of her belly. ‘You’re growing this wee bairn, for a start.’
Elspeth let out something between a moan and a sigh at the feel of his touch on her tight skin. But being surrounded by Fraser’s childhood things, both gazing upwards, not making eye contact, made the atmosphere quietly intimate rather than sexy.
‘Mmm... And that’s not getting any easier,’ she admitted.
His palm traced circles over her skin, over their baby. ‘How are you feeling?’
She let out a sigh. ‘Tired, if I’m honest. And clumsy. And achy.’
She let out a squeak of protest as Fraser dropped her hand and pushed at her hip, rolling her on to her side with her back to him. His hands rested on her, applying gentle pressure, teasing knots from her neck and her shoulders, travelling down the length of her spine until they pressed hard into the small of her back.
‘You should have said something,’ Fraser said, his voice soft and close to her ear.
‘I can’t—’
‘It’s just a massage,’ Fraser said, and she could hear the smile on his lips. ‘This is something friends do for each other, right?’
She really wasn’t sure about that. She’d never had a friend touch her like this before. Never felt so electric with a friend’s hands stroking her. But then, she’d never had a baby with a friend either. She wasn’t sure there was a rulebook for this sort of friendship. Certainly no one had given her one.
‘Is it helping?’
She let out another long sigh, losing the ability to articulate.
Fraser laughed behind her, a warm little burst of breath on her neck. ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said, working his thumbs beside her spine until her body felt like jelly.
Then he lay back, and she followed, until they were both staring up at the ceiling once more.
‘You know,’ Fraser said, speaking softly, ‘I think we make a good team.’
CHAPTER NINE
FRASER HAD LEFT her loose-limbed and relaxed at the door of an extravagantly decorated guest room with a kiss on the cheek and a pile of blankets spread on the feather eiderdown that topped the four-poster bed.
When she woke, pale sunlight was trying to make its way through the dust and condensation on the windows. She lifted her head from the pillows and goosebumps immediately broke out on her shoulders and arms. It was chilly in here. Forget that—it was downright freezing.
She pulled one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders while she went and wrestled with the valve of the enormous and ancient radiator over by the windows.
She used the corner of the blanket to rub a clear patch in a pane of the glass and had her first proper glimpse of Ballanross in the daylight. The driveway that they had crunched across last night curved dramatically through the landscape, past the ruins of the old castle, which sat majestically on the top of the hillside. Snow was visible on the tops of the mountains to the west, and the loch was fishpond-calm behind the old castle. The pale sun was low in the sky to the east, trying valiantly to warm the picturesque Scottish scene—without much luck.
A door slammed somewhere below and Fraser strode purposefully out of the door, wrapped up in a heavy winter jacket and hiking boots, and peered up at the tallest tower. So much for being a team, Elspeth thought. He was leaving her alone with his father—again. She wasn’t sure how he was meant to get anywhere with fixing this relationship if he was going to be out through the door at first light.
She checked the time on her phone—it was past nine already. She held on to the hope that Fraser and Malcolm had had a heart-to-heart over breakfast, but knew that it was unlikely.
Crossing over to her suitcase, she hunted out warm layers and thick hiking socks, and even considered for a moment going straight out to catch Fraser before he left. But then a jab in the ribs and a rumble in her stomach reminded her that she wasn’t alone, and that the baby was demanding breakfast even if Elspeth thought there were more important things to be doing.
Trying to retrace her steps from the night before, she took a wrong turn and found
herself in a grand hall adorned with suits of armour criss-crossed with cobwebs and an armoury’s worth of weapons mounted on the wall. She spun in a slow circle, looking up, taking in the faded splendour of the castle, trying to imagine a childhood spent running through these hallways, amidst these riches, this history.
Would their child feel like the castle and the land was a part of them, as Fraser so obviously did? Or would she always feel the outsider? Feel the echo of the estrangement between Fraser and his father? Feel the city child, out of place in the country, like Elspeth did right now?
She turned sharply at the sound of footsteps behind her, and smiled when she saw Malcolm walking towards her, carrying a cup of coffee that was steaming heavily in the chill of the room.
‘Ah, good morning,’ he said with a smile. ‘I was wondering if I should bring you a cup, but then I saw ye come through this way and thought you might need directions. Let’s go on back to the kitchen and I’ll put the kettle on.’
She followed him through a warren of hallways until they reached the kitchen. A copper batterie de cuisine hung on the wall, covered with a layer of the dust she had seen everywhere else, and Malcolm went to fill the plastic kettle, yellowed slightly with age, that sat on a worktop.
‘Will you have coffee or tea?’ Malcolm asked as he fussed around finding a mug and some milk. ‘You’ll have to excuse the place. The housekeeper is only here three days a week, and there’s really too much for her to manage. I do my best, but with a place this size you’re never going to win.’
