My envy of the club members only grew when I saw the large but cozy castle library. I wasn’t a big reader but I didn’t need to be to find the space alluring. Wall-to-wall dark oak bookshelves, a large, open fireplace, comfortable armchairs, footstools, and sofas. Floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the fireplace let light in so it didn’t feel too dark. The plethora of table lamps aided in chasing off the gloom too. Luxurious velvet curtains at the windows pooled on the wooden floors, most of which were covered in expensive Aubusson carpets.
I’d caught a glimpse of Lachlan’s stage office, which was a smaller version of the library. Lucy also grabbed a golf cart and took me across the large course and into the woodlands to tour the private residences.
“One of these days, I’m going to buy one of these beauties,” she’d said as the woods disappeared behind us and we emerged onto an open clifftop overlooking the water. Sand dunes fell dramatically toward the beach, making it a steep jump to get down to it. I’d gaped at the four large homes dotted along the coastline. “And it’s going to be one of those.” She’d continued and then pointed, “See the second closest to us?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s Wesley Howard’s summer home. Well, his summer house in Scotland. He has homes all over the world.”
“The director?”
She’d nodded and again I’d been reminded I was visiting another world here. Wesley Howard was on par with the Spielbergs and Scorseses. “He’s a board member. He and Lachlan are friends.”
Wow.
“But he rarely uses the house. Someday I’m going to be able to afford to buy it off the bastard.” Lucy grinned at the thought. “And I’ll live here anytime I’m not working on location.”
“You love it here, don’t you?”
“You get why, though, right?” She’d motioned to the soft but wild scenery.
I did get it. Lucy enjoyed a semblance of normal life here in a beautiful place.
It was not surprising that Lachlan was scarce that day, and the next day, and the day after that. He was most definitely avoiding me, and I couldn’t care less.
Shoving the irritating man from my thoughts, I stopped outside Mac’s hospital room and paused at what I witnessed through the window panels.
Arrochar Adair. Sitting beside Mac, her hands clasping one of his as she leaned over the bed.
Mac sat up, the color back in his cheeks, and he looked at Arrochar …
My breath caught as they laughed together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.
Then Arrochar pressed her lips to the back of Mac’s hand, and this pained look crossed my father’s face. He tugged gently on his hand to release it, and Arrochar reluctantly let go.
Whatever she’d said to him, however, brought his gaze to her mouth.
A flush of heat scored my cheeks.
I pushed into the room and watched as they both jerked away from each other. “Hey.”
At the awkward silence, I decided not to jump to conclusions about what I’d observed and pretended I hadn’t interrupted anything. I smiled at Mac and then Arrochar. “Hey, it’s nice to see you again.”
Her pale cheeks flushed as she stood. “You too. But I was just leaving. I have to return to work.”
“I’ll walk you out.” The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them.
She gave me a tight smile and then said to Mac, “I’ll see you later.”
He nodded, expression carefully blank.
Arrochar narrowed her eyes ever so slightly and then walked away. I followed her, throwing over my shoulder at Mac, “Be back in five.”
Falling into step with Arrochar, I asked, “How is he today?” At her questioning look, I continued, “Sometimes I wonder if he’s not telling me how he really feels.”
She nodded in understanding, and I studied her. Arrochar Adair wasn’t a typical beauty, but she was certainly striking with her unusually pale-blue eyes, high, sharp cheekbones, and slightly pointed chin. Her lips were heart-shaped, adding to her overall fay features.
I imagined she had no trouble turning heads.
I just wasn’t expecting that one of those would be Mac’s. I struggled to remember her age but thought it was close to mine. Perhaps a year or two older? That made the age difference between them fourteen to sixteen years. I knew my dad was young when they had me, and forty-four definitely wasn’t old, but still—
Robyn, stop.
I could absolutely be jumping to conclusions.
“Mac is hardy.” Arrochar yanked me out of my troubled thoughts. “He’s healing well,” she assured me. “He’s happy you’re here.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not?”
“Oh, I am.” She hurried to say, flushing slightly. “I just … I worry about him.”
Yeah, everyone was worried about Mac’s feelings. I got it. But a little understanding for the kid he walked out on might be nice. “You’re dating the chef at Ardnoch, right?”
I think she was as surprised as me by the question. “Uh, yes. Guy. We’ve been dating for the past few months. Why?”
Scrambling to think of a reasonable reason for asking, I blurted, “Does it bother Fergus?”
“Fergus? Fergus Ray?”
I nodded.
“Why would it?”
“Because you dated him.” I lowered my voice. “I’m helping Mac investigate the stalker at Ardnoch.”
“And you think Fergus is the stalker?” She laughed, a musical, sparkly sound that made her eyes darken to a warmer shade of blue. “God, no. Fergus wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“But you dated?”
“Yes. When we were kids. He was my first boyfriend. My first …” She raised her eyebrows. “Well, you know. But as sweet as he is, he’s immature.”
“That’s why you broke up?”
Arrochar made a face, like she couldn’t believe I was this nosy, but I genuinely did want to know about Fergus. “Um … that, and he had a gambling problem.”
That was new. “Gambling problem?”
“Online gambling.”
“Does he still?”
“I don’t think so. I think if he did, he’d have nothing left financially, and he’s got his flat that he rents and a good job on the estate …”
Still, I tucked that little note about him aside to put on my pin board later.
“Fergus isn’t behind the attacks. He’s like family. He and Brodan are best friends. He’d never hurt any of us.”
I also noted that, but he was still on my list. “Okay.”
Arrochar studied me like I’d just studied her. “You have Mac’s eyes.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“We should have dinner together.”
I raised an eyebrow at the abrupt change of topic. “We should?”
“Absolutely. Eredine has been talking about you nonstop, and you are Mac’s daughter. We should get to know each other.”
Considering what I may or may not have walked in on between her and Mac, I decided she was right. “Sounds great.”
Once we’d exchanged numbers and promised to arrange something, I returned to Mac’s room.