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Of course Fraser had suggestions. He had a whole list of them that he had started as they’d driven up here through the woodland and he’d started to get a sense that the place had been allowed to fall into the sort of state that he would never permit on an estate he was managing.
He hadn’t seen the accounts, but he’d known even before his father had said anything that they would be as much of a mess as the castle was.
Could he fix it? A twinge of something like guilt pulled at his belly. This would never have happened if he had been here to take care of it. Instead there was an estate three hours’ drive from here that was flourishing while his own home was rotting away.
But he would never have had to leave if his father hadn’t chosen his new wife over him. This wasn’t his fault. His father had been the adult at the time. This was all on him.
He remembered that Elspeth was standing beside him and turned to her.
‘Let’s go.’
He took her hand, vaguely aware that he was making a bad habit of doing that, and then snatched it back. His father’s lust, kept unchecked, had led them here. He wasn’t going to perpetuate the problem by making things complicated with Elspeth. Here was a reminder, as if he needed it, that indulging the intense desire he had for her wasn’t going to get them anywhere. His father had gone down that path—and look where it had got them.
But Elspeth pulled his hand back, stopping him from storming down the staircase.
‘Stop, Fraser. If you’re running away from this you’re not dragging me with you.’
‘Leave it, Elspeth,’ he said, still angry. ‘You don’t need to be involved in this.’
But she tugged at his arm, enough to stop him storming out. ‘I do need to be involved. Last time I checked, you two hadn’t made such a good job of working this out without me. Now, are we going to talk about this like adults?’
‘I’m done talking,’ Fraser said, turning for the door again.
‘Well, I’m not,’ Elspeth declared behind him. ‘Malcolm, where’s the best place for us to look at everything? The accounts and stuff? I’ll help if I can.’
‘Well...’ Malcolm hesitated. ‘If you want I can meet you in my study,’ he said, his voice wavering a little. ‘But I’m not sure what there is to be done.’
‘I don’t know how much help I’ll be,’ Elspeth replied, sounding more unperturbed. ‘But I’m willing to try.’
Fraser met Elspeth’s eyes and stared, waiting for her to read his silent message: Keep out of this. I don’t need you to interfere. I’ve got this under control. But she stared back at him, steadfast, and he knew that she wasn’t going to back down.
Fine. He should go through the accounts anyway. His father had been ignoring the problem for long enough—Fraser wasn’t going to contribute to his neglect.
‘Fine,’ Fraser said aloud. ‘I’ll see you in there.’
He walked back up to the guest room where he had stayed last night and grabbed his laptop. He wasn’t sure that he’d need it, but he needed the breather. Needed to be away from Elspeth and his father and let his anger subside.
He had been close to completely losing his temper, and he knew that giving in to those extreme emotions was going to get him nowhere. Since he had left the castle and his childhood behind he’d learnt that he had to keep his feelings in check. Not let them get the better of him. It was impossible to make good decisions based on emotion.
He stood at the window of his room, looking out at the ruins of the old castle, the stones warming in the winter sun, the loch a shimmering silver-gold behind, breathing deep until he felt the muscles of his shoulders relaxing.
He had spent hours up there as a kid. Exploring the old building, trying to imagine the lives of the people who had lived there.
When he was calm again, and could think of the conversation that he had to go and have without clenching his fists, he turned away from the window and headed for the door.
CHAPTER TEN
WHEN FRASER REACHED the study, Elspeth was peering over Malcolm’s shoulder at an ancient computer. Thankfully it wasn’t the monster of a desktop that he remembered helping his father use before he had left home, but he could tell just by looking at it that it was a good five years past needing replacing. And then there were the papers, stacked on the desk, on the bookshelf, on the floor in front of the leather wingback chair positioned by a cold fireplace.
They must not have heard him over the roar of the old computer’s fan, desperately trying to keep the machine from overheating and blowing up. So he leaned against the door frame and watched them for a moment.
Would this ever have been what he wanted? The woman carrying his child getting to know his father? If he hadn’t left this place... If his father had never met someone else... If his childhood and everything that had followed hadn’t been marked by the choice that his father had made. Would Malcolm still be the man that he remembered before that day? Would his father be a different person? Would he, Fraser, be changed?
He shook his head. There was no point thinking like that. Those things couldn’t be undone. They could never go back there.
They had to go forward. They had to try and make a new relationship. It could never be what it was. But he had missed his father. He could admit to himself now that every time he had thought about his home over the years, every time he had felt that emptiness inside him that he thought could be filled by coming home, he had been missing his dad.
But building something new would mean letting go of what had gone before. It would mean forgiveness. And suddenly Fraser knew that he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t forgive his father...yet. But, seeing him talking with Elspeth, it made him want to. Perhaps one day they could have a relationship again.
