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Graham had already bent over and scooped Sir Buster up who, after an initial warning growl, settled into the crook of his arm.
“How do you do that?” Sophie mused, biting her lower lip and shaking her head in wonder at Graham. “You even charm the dogs.”
“It’s a curse, it is, Sophie. But one of us must shoulder it.” Graham sighed heavily and slung an arm over my shoulder. “I’m telling you…you picked the wrong man here.”
“I highly doubt that,” Sophie said before I could interject, and my chest swelled with pride.
“Smart woman,” I said, turning to smirk at Graham. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”
And so did I.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Sophie
The next afternoon, I fixed myself a cup of tea, pleased at the thought of uninterrupted time to go through the books. Hilda had gone into town to meet with her book club, and Archie and Sir Buster were doing “men” things in Archie’s workshop. It felt a bit odd, having the big old castle to myself, and I took my time wandering the corridors on the way up to Lachlan’s office.
While one part of my brain admired the pretty tapestries and oil paintings, the other part dwelled on Lachlan. Specifically, on a shift I’d felt from him since his conversation with Graham yesterday. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I sensed he was drawing back from me, as though Graham’s comments about a woman controlling the relationship had put Lachlan on his back foot. Which was stupid, really, because clearly Lachlan was his own man who knew his own mind. But last night, when I cuddled into him in bed, he’d shifted and spooned me without trying for anything more. The cuddling was nice, I wasn’t mad about that, but knowing he was leaving for a few days, it would have been nice to be more intimate with him. This morning, he’d given me a quick hug and a soft kiss on the lips before grabbing his pack and heading for the door.
It all felt too casual and studied like he was trying to put space between us. I wish he’d just talk to me and tell me what was on his mind. Instead, I was left guessing if I’d done something wrong to upset him.
Pot meet black. I could have just asked him what was wrong, couldn’t I? Maybe I’d do that if he called later to check in. Not that I’d asked him to check in with me. I didn’t want to seem too clingy. And Lachlan didn’t seem much for texting as he already rarely returned the messages I’d sent him. Honestly, it didn’t really surprise me that he didn’t like to text—not after I saw him typing with two fingers at his computer. My anxiety had kicked up, watching as he’d agonized over the keyboard, and I’d almost offered to type his email for him. Had the man never had typing lessons? I shivered at the thought of taking twenty minutes to write an email. No wonder Lachlan avoided doing the books.
I flipped on the lights in Lachlan’s office, placing my tea on a coaster on his desk. The room seemed to let out a sigh, welcoming me, as I settled into his chair and flipped the computer on. Pushing thoughts of Lachlan aside, as surely the man was just in a mood, I opened a drawer and dug out a stack of folders. Soon, I was in my happy place, running numbers, making notes, and organizing files. An hour later, I winced as I came across the most recent bank statement.
Lachlan hadn’t been lying when he said the castle was in dire straits. I hoped, with the terms of the trust, to be able to change that around this year. I knew that Arthur had stipulated that in the first year I could use some of the money for necessary improvements in the castle, and I planned to be judicious in where I would choose to use that. First, because I didn’t want to fall into the role of being the sugar mama who came in and took care of everything and, secondly, because I still needed time to see how things ran around here and decide where the money would be put to best use. Even though I now owned the castle and could paint it pink and decorate it in velvet leopard print furniture if I wanted to, I respected the heritage enough to want to make sensible changes. To be honest, the castle didn’t belong to me even if Iwasthe owner. It belonged to the people of Loren Brae and, as their Knight, I was meant to be in service to them.
At that thought, I kicked back in my chair for a moment, steepling my fingers as I stared out of the small arched window in front of Lachlan’s desk that overlooked Loch Mirren. It was a blustery day, though no rain fell, and the surface of the water looked jagged like someone had roughed it up with sandpaper. The Order of Caledonia weighed heavily on my mind, as a third jewel had yet to appear in my dirk, and I wondered how else I could be of service to Loren Brae. Being a knight was not all it was cracked up to be, I realized, particularly when we weren’t in times of war like the olden days. So could I fight a modern-day battle? It was what I hoped I was doing with my tourism campaign that I planned to launch once I got the images back from my graphic designer.
I was meant to notify the next of the Order.
Hilda had informed me of that particular fact earlier this week, telling me that she’d started a list of potential candidates for me to recruit. It made me laugh at the time, but now my stomach swam with nerves. How could I, Sophie MacKnight, recruit someone to stand for the Order of Caledonia when I hadn’t yet been able to complete my own rite of passage? Sure, the Kelpies had been quiet of late but, as Archie had warned me, that didn’t mean they were satisfied. The Stone of Truth needed constant protection, and it appeared that once challenges had been met, the next of the Order would need to start theirs. And on it went, until the Stone was once more fully protected, though how it was keeping track, I did not know.
And maybe I didn’t need to know. Just because I didn’t understand something didn’t make it any less real, I’d come to learn. The day the unicorn had appeared before Lachlan and me had been one of the most thrilling and magickal moments of my life. Though my practical mind wanted to dissect it and try to find a reason for the existence of this unicorn, my heart begged me to stop.
Just stop.
Some things needed to be accepted for what they were. Unequivocally and without explanation. The unicorn was a reminder to me that love was much the same. I couldn’t shove it into a neat little box on a spreadsheet and mark it off my to-do list. Love wasn’t something to be accomplished, it was an ongoing living and breathing challenge. And one I was ready to accept with Lachlan, if he’d let me.
Shaking my head as my thoughts drifted back to Lachlan, once again, I opened the last manila envelope I’d found buried in the back of the bottom drawer. Humming, I scanned the contents, flipping rapidly through the pages, and then my hands stilled when I saw my name.
Sophie MacKnight.
Five Million Pounds.
Six months at MacAlpine Castle.
The words blurred before my eyes, and my chest hitched as my breath caught, and I pushed myself back from the desk to take a moment to steady my breathing. Once I’d calmed myself, I forced myself to read the contract in whole. Then I read it again, just to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreting anything or letting my emotions cloud my judgment.
My lips thinned as I pressed them tightly together, as anger coiled low in my stomach.He’d known.
Despite all his bluster and initial anger, Lachlan had known that I was coming.
The sale of MacAlpine Castle had included a clause that upon Arthur’s death, if the caretakers of the castle could convince one Sophie MacKnight to stay at the castle of her own free will for at least six months, then five million pounds would be put into a trust for the caretakers to use for castle upkeep.
And he knew he’d have to find a way to get me to stay…
And what better way to do that than to make me fall in love? I tasted bitterness on my tongue, like I’d bitten into black licorice candy, and I rose from the desk, my fists clenched. I needed to rage—to throw something—but I didn’t know what. I stared blindly out the window at Loch Mirren, as anger gave way to sadness, and then, finally, to acceptance.
