Secret Garden (11 page)

“Please, Paul. I’d like to take more of an active role in my life. Malcolm doesn’t live here, and he’s not likely to move back. Usually, he’s three hours away.”

“Indeed.” Paul gazed at her sympathetically. He’d been a silent witness to yesterday’s visit from Colin. He’d seen how important it was to her to represent herself well to him.

“I don’t mean to pry, miss, but is this realistic?” Paul asked.

She sat up straighter. It
had
to be realistic. She wasn’t turning back now. It had been an embarrassment to her that Colin witnessed her brother in charge of her life. She loved Malcolm, but that behavior would never have flown when the three of them were children.

“I
am
going to dinner with Colin and Jessie and Jamie tonight,” she said softly. “I promised Colin, and I will stand by my promise.”

Paul’s nose seemed to twitch. He obviously had something to say about it.

“Please speak freely with me,” she said.

“It isn’t my business.”

“I suppose we made it your business when we had our conversation in front of you on the stairs yesterday, don’t you think?”

Paul sighed. “Jessie called over last night, wondering if Colin was here at the castle. But while we were speaking, Colin called her mobile phone to tell her that his workout had gone late, and he was staying at a hotel for the night, but would return in the morning.”

And surely Jessie had been upset about that, though likely, she hadn’t shown it to Colin.

Rhiannon kept her gaze steadily on Paul. “Is this a problem for us?”

“Technically, no. It’s a minor event, true, but taking the worried phone call from the cottage on her estate is an issue that the lady would handle, if she were present.”

“I see.” Perhaps there was more to the role than Rhiannon had realized. “Is this something you’ve discussed with Malcolm?” she asked.

Paul was silent for a moment. “No, miss. I’ve mentioned the incident to no one but you.”

Though this was a small matter, it was another place to start. Besides, to her it was important. To Jessie, too.

“Would you like me to walk over with you to the picnic today?” Paul asked.

She smiled at him. “Thank you for offering. But no, I’ll take Molly with me. Her leg seems better, and she’s itching for the exercise.”

Paul nodded. He didn’t look entirely pleased.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“Be careful, Rhiannon,” he said, an extremely rare warning on his part.

“I walk that part of the property every day. There’s no physical danger to me.”

But physical danger wasn’t what Paul was worried about. They both knew that.

* * *

“
I
REALLY DO
need you two to leave,” Colin said.

Mack and Bonnie lounged on the edge of the picnic table as if they’d known each other for a year instead of two days. Bonnie sifted through an old-style album of photos that Colin’s grandmother had insisted he cart over, while Mack picked sandwiches off the tray that Colin had prepared.

“We’re going,” Mack said, his mouth stuffed with cheese and chutney, one of Jessie’s culinary specialties. “Just give us a minute.”

That was what they’d been saying for the past hour, after Mack had dropped Colin off from their golfing expedition and Bonnie had shown up to surprise Mack. Colin had explained in his good-guy manner—without mentioning Rhiannon—that he needed to be alone with his grandparents. He’d done his best to be diplomatic, but apparently diplomacy wasn’t what this situation called for.

“Now,”
Colin said. He glanced at the time on his phone—he only had twenty minutes until Rhiannon arrived—and turned to haul a cooler off the wagon he’d dragged from the shed behind the cottage.

Since his grandparents didn’t have a barbecue grill like the one he had on his back porch in Texas, prepping for this outdoor meal wasn’t as simple an affair as he’d anticipated. He gave them credit for the fresh-air picnics they’d coordinated when he was a kid.

“Is she really coming?” Bonnie asked him, holding the photo book aloft and squinting at it in awe.

Colin gazed at her sharply. “Is
who
really coming?”

“Rhiannon MacDowall, the heiress in the castle. Nobody ever sees her. She just stays in her turret tower and paints.”

Colin’s fists balled. He hadn’t mentioned Rhiannon to Bonnie. He didn’t want anyone spreading gossip or speaking negatively about her. “That’s a lousy thing to say.”

“Why?” Bonnie asked. “It’s true.”

“How do you know?” He took the album from her. “Have you ever met her?”

Bonnie fiddled with her sweater’s buttons. “No.”

“Right. Then don’t say anything.”

Mack gave Colin a wondering look as if Colin had lost his mind.

He was just on edge about wanting things to be perfect for Rhiannon. He’d thought a lot about her since he saw her last, and he’d gotten angry about the fact that she’d been kidnapped and terrorized. If there was any way for her to have an everyday picnic with his grandparents and him, then he wanted it to be so.

He put the photo album gently back in the crate. His grandmother had said that going on outings like this wasn’t something Rhiannon normally did. He felt a burning need to change that.

He glanced up and saw Mack studying him. Colin regretted even mentioning Rhiannon’s name to his caddie.

“You see,” Colin said, “this is why you aren’t invited to dinner.”

Mack shook his head. Then he leaned closer to Bonnie. “Honestly?” he asked her. “You’ve lived in this village your whole life and you’ve never seen Colin’s friend before?”

“No. Everybody knows what happened to her, but no one has seen her since—”

“Get out,” Colin said, losing all sense of diplomacy. “Both of you. Now.”

Mack gave him a mock “shocked” look. Colin knew he was trying to make a joke about it. “Don’t even go there,” Colin snapped.

Mack turned to Bonnie. “Don’t take it personally, Bonnie. He was like this when we golfed today, too.”

Colin felt the slow burn. His reacquaintance with Rhiannon had
not
affected his golf game, which had felt pretty damn good, actually. He
liked
golfing in Scotland. In the past, he’d avoided coming here no matter how many times his peers had mentioned how great golfing in the birthplace of their sport was. Colin’s feelings about his family had colored his opinion of the country. Now, it seemed, he was making up for lost time. Yesterday, they’d played nine holes. Today, he and Mack had joined a twosome for a full eighteen holes at a classic links course on the edge of a sea firth, not far away. The wind had rushed so hard at them that it had knocked over their bags. There’d been sea rocks and stone cliffs on three of the holes, which was crazy. If Colin hadn’t been so preoccupied with thinking about tonight’s dinner, he would have thoroughly enjoyed it.

“You’re my caddie,” he said quietly to Mack. “Where’s the loyalty?”

“Come on, Colin, lighten up. This isn’t like you.”

This
wasn’t
like him. But his father had died. His grandfather still couldn’t stand the sight of him. And Rhiannon MacDowall had been violently kidnapped, and he’d never even known.

Of course he was in a bad mood and on edge.

He grabbed a checked tablecloth from the box his grandmother had packed and shook it over the table. Then he found the two globes that held citronella candles. The “midgies”—the tiny black bugs that sometimes pested the Highlands—weren’t out, but the citronella would be handy to have just in case.

“Why don’t you two at least lend me a hand if you’re going to stand there?” Colin had a few more minutes before Rhiannon got here. If worse came to worst, he could toss the two of them inside the cart once he’d emptied it and physically drag them back to Bonnie’s car.

“Can’t we meet Rhiannon MacDowall?” Bonnie asked him. “Pleeaase?”

“No.”

“I don’t see why such it’s a big deal,” Mack said.

Mack wouldn’t; he didn’t know she was agoraphobic, though Bonnie would likely fill him in soon enough.

Colin wished his best friend would give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m just getting to know her again myself,” he said quietly. “Grant me that one small pleasure, will you?”

Mack whistled. “You like her.”

“She’s a childhood friend.”

Mack and Bonnie exchanged smirks.

Colin turned his back on them. He wasn’t saying a word to anyone about how he felt about Rhiannon. She
was
a childhood friend. Since he was back in Scotland, he wanted to set things right for her.

What she had gone through burned him. All these years he’d assumed she’d been wary of him because of who he was. He hadn’t even considered she’d been traumatized.

Just an eight-year-old girl. Rhiannon. The sweet, pigtailed kid. It infuriated him. It infuriated him even more that it had been bad enough to make her afraid to go out and live her life.

That hadn’t been her personality back when he knew her. Not at all.

His foul mood must have finally sunk in to his friend, because Mack nudged Bonnie. “Let’s go.” To Colin he said, “Join us at the pub tonight.”

Colin just grunted. He wouldn’t be joining them. “Have a good time,” he said.

He glanced at his watch again. He felt antsy, waiting for Rhiannon. He killed a few minutes by hanging some lanterns from tree branches, but that still left him with spare time.

Since when did he wait around for someone like an anxious kid with a crush?

Setting out to find her, Colin took the walking path toward the castle.

The afternoon sun had lengthened and stretched and was fast sinking into evening. He set a quick pace. Whistled a tune. That way, if she was heading toward him, she would have advance notice and wouldn’t be frightened.

He first saw her when he came over a slight crest. She was about fifty feet away.

“Rhiannon!” He raised a hand to her. She strode briskly, a golden retriever on a leash trotting ahead of her, slightly pulling her along.

Feeling himself smiling, he craned his neck to study her. She’d changed from the halter top he’d liked so much into a loose-fitting peasant-type shirt. The sleeves were short, with elastic around the edges so they puffed out, making her look like a Gypsy. She’d pinned one of his grandmother’s rose buds into her hair, and she wore a long, jersey-type skirt that swirled and clung to her legs in interesting ways as she strode.

Just...damn.

“Hey,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat to her as she came alongside him.

“Hello, Colin.” Breathless with walking, she had apple-shaded cheeks. Shyly, she glanced up at his face as they both stopped. She seemed anxious, too.

“I hope you don’t mind dogs,” she said.

“Mind ’em? I love ’em.” Colin bent to the golden retriever’s height and held out his hand. The dog, skittish from what looked to be a bandaged front leg, sniffed at Colin’s skin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“This is Molly. She’s recently home from the vet. I would have left her with Paul, but she’s eager to get outside again.”

“Molly, huh?” The dog was now curiously licking Colin’s skin. Her tongue was scratchy—it made Colin smile. “Did you name her after someone?”

“She’s, uh, my mother’s dog. All her dogs are named Molly.” Rhiannon paused, still awkward. “Molly was the name she gave her first dog as a girl, and ever since then, she’s named them all Molly. Remember?”

He scratched Molly behind the ear. “I seem to remember a Tippy, too.”

“Tippy? Ye gads, you’re right.” Rhiannon shook her head. “I forgot about wee Tippy.”

“Oh, no. Is he...?”

Rhiannon smiled sadly. “Tippy lived a long, happy life. He was my aunt’s dog. We were actually caring for him that summer while she was away.”

“Ah,” he said. Molly had graduated from licking Colin to now jumping up on him with her front paws. Colin stood, giving the dog’s head a playful tousle.

“Stop that, Molly. Get down.” Rhiannon gently tugged on the leash. “I’m sorry for her bad manners,” she apologized to Colin.

“Don’t be.” He winked at her. “As you know, I have bad manners of my own.”

She laughed again, her flush deepening. He loved that she blushed. Not enough people blushed anymore, in his opinion.

She seemed to be relaxing, and more so than she had with him at her castle.

He relaxed, too. “So, I thought I’d walk you to our picnic.” He pointed the way down the path. “Shall we? Jessie’s pretty excited about it. But I give you fair warning, she’s broken out the photo albums.”

Rhiannon smiled faintly and began to walk beside him. Molly trotted sedately along, too. “The warning is appreciated.” But then Rhiannon’s smile faded. They were both silent for a moment. She seemed to be pondering something. “So...your granddad and Jessie are doing okay, then?”

Colin blew out a breath and put his hands in his pockets as he walked. He’d been trying not to think about the funeral too much himself.

“It’s hard to tell.” He shrugged. “Jessie doesn’t like to talk about unpleasant things. And Jamie is protective of her.” He gave a short laugh.

“And you, Colin? How are you doing?”

He shook his head. That was a massively complicated question. “I guess you could say I’m getting through it.”

“You weren’t in touch with your father, were you?” Rhiannon murmured.

She said it gently. Rhiannon had a gentle spirit. He didn’t mind answering her. “No. And my father wasn’t in touch with me.” The bitterness came out of him.

“I’m sorry, Colin.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

He glanced at her while she deftly maneuvered Molly around a mud puddle. “Will Malcolm be coming tonight?” he asked, changing the subject.

“No. He drove back to Edinburgh last night to have dinner with Kristin. She’s his new wife.” Rhiannon had a small smile on her lips. Something struck her as amusing.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Malcolm’s wife is American.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Like me.”

“Yes, and she’s brilliant, too. I love her like she’s my sister.”

“And Malcolm is very protective of you.”

“He is.” She sighed, stealing a look at Colin as if deciding whether to say her next words; then she shrugged and said them anyway. “We were snatched from the street together. Malcolm has always blamed himself for letting it happen, and nothing that I or anybody else says seems to take that away completely.” She hesitated. “It’s why he stood by me yesterday, on the stairs.” Her face flushed again.