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“Understood.” I’d had enough dating tips from the 1960s for one night. I putPride and Prejudiceback on the shelf. “I could use a drink.”
“Great idea.” Duncan snapped his book shut and leapt from his chair.
We left Bea harrumphing her disapproval behind us. I had just ignored several counts of her advice. If I’d stayed any longer, I probably would have been told not to drink alcohol with men, either. Considering what had happened when I’d had a drink with Bea’s husband, this was sometimes sound advice.
When we reached the main corridor, I turned to Duncan. “Can we pretend that conversation didn’t happen?”
“As long as I get to pretend I suggested it.”
The lodge had a small lounge seemingly laid out as an afterthought, with mismatched chairs and random tables strewn about the room. We collected our drinks and snagged a table among the other lodge guests. I sipped my whisky, relieved and oddly proud that drinking one whisky a night hadn’t affected me much.
“This one isn’t bad at all.” I’d trusted Duncan to choose my drink tonight. Hints of apple and vanilla came through the malt, and it had less burn than the others I’d tried, although still stronger than anything I normally drank. If I took small sips and nursed my dram as long as possible, I wound up only mildly drunk instead offlirt with Rupertdrunk.
“How is your dog faring today?” Duncan asked.
I beamed just thinking about my little guy. “He’s good. The picture this morning was of him sitting in Jill’s baby stroller.”
Along with a text noting that men traditionally wore nothing beneath their kilts, followed by several winking emojis. I would never show him that conversation.
“Sounds like a good dog.”
“Lazy enough to ride around in a stroller, anyway. No pets for you, though?”
“No. My ex-wife was allergic to dogs. Since the divorce, I haven’t given it much thought.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Four years.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two girls. Louisa is ten, and Sophie is seven.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and called up a photo. He flipped it around to me, revealing a picture of him crowded by two cherubic girls with bright blue eyes like his and mops of unruly brown hair that blew in front of them. They all wore huge, glowing smiles as though we were peeking in on them on the best day of their lives. My heart soared just looking at the picture.
He took one last look at the phone, his expression nothing but sweet tenderness, before tucking it back into his pocket. “I know more about princesses and tea parties than you would expect.”
“I can imagine.” My poor heart wanted to burst imagining this big, tough man playing with his daughters. “Do you see them often?”
“Weekends. Part of summer breaks. Alternating holidays.” He ticked his head to the side. “Not often enough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not ideal, but we’re making the best of it.” He shrugged as though long used to the arrangement, however disappointing. “They’re off on holiday with their mum just now, so it seemed a good time for me to get away.”
“It, um, ended amicably between you?”
“Eventually.” He drummed his fingers against his whisky glass. “For a long time, I let my business consume me. I worked long hours, weekends, holidays. By the time I thought to take a step back, the damage had been done.”
“You couldn’t make it work?” A stupid question. The answer was obviously no.
“I wanted to try, for the girls. But she was just done. Didn’t want to put in the effort on a sinking ship, she’d said.”
His grimace made me ache. I knew how much it cut to have someone give up on you. “That’s awful.”
“I don’t pretend I was blameless, but…it hurt that she wouldn’t fight for us.” He raised a shoulder. “She remarried two years ago. She’s happy enough where she is, and so am I.”
He looked at me so long after that, I had to take a gulp of whisky. “Have you had other lady friends since your divorce?”
“Lady friends?”
