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I wasn’t one to rage. I didn’t say a word when my parents left me. Not even when my mother didn’t choose me when Harold had read the will. Why would I rage now when I understood that Lachlan, like everyone else, had just been using me for my money. I couldn’t blame him, not really. He was loyal to this castle, his only home and the place where he’d lost his mother. Loren Brae was his life, his first love, and I knew, without a doubt, that he’d do anything for his people.
I just refused to be his sacrifice.
I had fallen in love with this castle and these people, and I had wanted to be here to see all my branding dreams become reality. Had wanted to believe that what I saw in Lachlan could last. But despite Loren Brae’s enthusiastic welcome, once again I was only wanted for what I could give and do.
It isn’tmethey truly want. Just like my parents.
And if I stayed and continued to be the pawn, my heart would break into more pieces than I could recover.
My heart is already too fragile for more loss.
It’s time to go.
Gathering my strength, I made up my mind and rushed to my apartment.
There, I packed my bag quickly, glad that I’d been prudent with my shopping, and returned to the office once I’d finished. Digging out a notebook, I dashed off a note, and then flipped my checkbook open, writing out the full amount that Lachlan would have been given if I’d lasted the whole six months.
I wasn’t going to be the reason that MacAlpine Castle wouldn’t get the money it needed, but I also couldn’t stay. I would compose an email to Harold asking him to draft the documents to transfer the deed to Hilda for the price of one whole pound. With that and the five million pounds, they’d be set for a long time.
As for me?
I’d have to find my own way. But it wasn’t here, in this place, with this man who had knowingly used me for my money. I’d just have to learn to get better at recognizing red flags. A hot man in a kilt did not a partner make, I reminded myself, as I rolled my suitcase down the hallway.
“Mooooooooooooo.”
The most plaintive moo that I’d ever heard stopped me in my tracks, and I turned to see Clyde behind me in the hallway, his big stocky head lifted to the sky, wailing his heart out.
“Clyde, I’m sorry. I can’t stay. Not like this,” I told him, waving my hand in the air.
“Mooooooooooooo.”
Another heartbreaking wail brought tears to my eyes, and I shook my head, turning away and hurrying down the corridor. I refused to cry over Lachlan, but damn if a ghost coo wasn’t about to make me lose my shit. Racing to the back stairs, I grabbed the truck keys from the hook by the door and ran across the lot, tossing my suitcase in the back seat of the pickup. I hoped Archie would forgive me for stealing his ride, but I figured with this new windfall he could buy a new and improved truck. Plus, once I got to the airport, I’d leave the keys under the seat and let him know where I’d parked.
Resolved, I only stalled twice before rocketing down the drive, leaving my heart and MacAlpine Castle in the rearview mirror.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
lachlan
Iwas a goner.
Well and truly gone, as Graham delighted in reminding me on the golf course the next day, as once again I brought up something Sophie had done to make me laugh. He wasn’t far wrong, I realized. Even as we’d driven away from the castle, I’d felt like I was leaving a piece of me behind and hated that Sophie wasn’t with me to tour the distilleries. Which was silly, really, the woman didn’t evenlikewhisky.
How had I fallen for a woman who didn’t like whisky?
And fallen I think I had. We’d danced around the word “love” with each other, neither of us saying it, and yet, here I was. Well and truly in love with Sophie. I admired her resilience, her intelligence, and her willingness to take risks. She’d crossed an ocean while battling grief and bravely taken on a challenge that many would have run screaming from. On top of that, she’d taken a chance on me—a well-documented flight risk—and had made my days brighter for it. She was one in a million and, when I got home, I planned to tell her just that.
“Och, you’re just jealous, ye bastard,” I said, lining up my shot. We’d lucked out with some fair weather thus far, though I noted the presence of darkening clouds hovering on the horizon.
“Might be,” Graham admitted, his eyes narrowing as the ringer went off on my mobile phone in my golf bag. “I thought we said no phones.”
“I’m sorry. I was certain I’d turned the ringer off. I never use the damn thing anyway,” I said. It was true too, though I’d found myself checking it since I left, wondering why I hadn’t had a text from Sophie. Not that I’d sent her one, but usually she’d forward me a funny picture of Sir Buster or a cute note. I did my best to respond, but I hated typing on the phone. Still, I saved every one of her notes, sometimes re-reading them to bring a smile to my face.
Yeesh, Iwasbesotted, wasn’t I?
Digging in my bag, I pulled out the phone and went to turn it off when I saw it was Hilda calling. Answering, I waved away Graham’s protest.
“Hilda. What’s up? Everything okay?”
