Authors: Sophia Knightly
“Oh, Ranald, everything is just as I remembered. So beautiful!” she murmured.
He nodded. “Aye, lass, it is.” Ranald’s craggy face creased into a lopsided grin as he regarded her warmly.
When they pulled up the drive, Maggie ran out of the heavy castle doors toward them. Natasha handed Evita to Ranald and threw her arms around Maggie, exuberantly embracing her ample body. Natasha loved the comforting feel of her girth, so unlike Anitra’s stick thin figure. They hugged and rocked from side to side for several moments while Evita yipped and howled. Maggie pulled back and studied Natasha, her soft brown eyes brimming with happy tears.
"We’ve missed you, lovey," Maggie said, wiping her eyes as she gave a rueful shake of her short, salt and pepper curls. “You shouldn’t have stayed away so long! You’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you, Maggie. I’ve missed you and Ranald so much too…and Glenhaven, of course.”
Maggie turned her attention to Evita. “So this is my little god-doggy. She’s a redhead like you, lovey. Did you plan it that way?”
“No, but my friend Ronnie did.” Ronnie had delighted in telling Natasha that Evita looked just like her, except for the brown eyes.
Evita emitted a soulful howl. “And she sings too,” Maggie said, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
While Maggie fussed over Evita, who rewarded her with happy licks, Natasha stared at the moss-covered, dark stone dwelling before her, awed by the magnificence of Glenhaven Castle. Bathed in misty rain and morning fog, the 16th century castle was peacefully cloistered from the noise and havoc of the 21st century. Natasha inhaled deeply of the cool, damp Scottish air to refresh her travel weary body.
“Come inside.” Maggie’s pretty face was radiant as she ushered Natasha through the high-beamed, wood-paneled foyer into the warmth of centuries-old, Scottish grandeur. She led the way up the spiral staircase to the master bedroom while Ranald followed behind, huffing as he carried her suitcases.
“Here, let me help you carry it. I’ll take one end,” Natasha offered, shifting Evita’s dog carrier to her other hand.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Ranald blustered. “Ian told us you’re a wee bit knackered. He said you are here to rest and rest you will, my lass.”
Natasha wryly shook her head. Ian was already mandating from afar and everyone was scrambling to obey—as usual.
When they reached the second floor, Natasha stopped in front of the large portrait of Ian's mother, Fiona, dressed in a jade evening gown, her dark hair swept back from her beautiful face. Studying Fiona’s alabaster complexion, rosy cheeks and serene smile, Natasha didn't find much similarity between Ian and his mum except for the eyes, almost haunting in their silver-green intensity and framed by inky lashes.
“I wish I could have met her," Natasha said. "It's a pity Ian lost his mother when he was only a boy."
“Aye,” Maggie said. "He was verra close to her. Ian is just as passionate as Fiona was when it comes to his home."
"Glenhaven is in his blood," Natasha said. “I didn’t come to realize how much until it was too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Maggie said with conviction.
“We’ll see,” Natasha said, remembering what Ranald had said about Danielle.
Natasha followed Maggie into the master bedroom and watched her approach the tapestry-covered north wall. A vivid memory of the first time she'd laid eyes on the medieval tapestry of courtly love above the massive bed came rushing back to her. The memory so vibrant she could almost smell Ian’s clean, evergreen scent, feel his warm skin on her, taste the desire in his ravenous kisses. The laird of Glenhaven’s compelling presence filled the room, even if he was miles away.
"I had the hidden chamber prepared since I know it’s your favorite. Do you want to sleep there?" Maggie’s motherly voice held a hint of hesitation as she watched her.
“Sure. Ian isn’t here, so it’s fine,” Natasha said, tamping the shiver of excitement at staying so close to his master quarters.
Maggie pushed aside the colorful Flemish tapestry. "Verra well, then."
Underneath the tapestry was a hidden pocket door that Maggie slid into the wall. They walked through a dark corridor leading to a bolted door. Maggie unlocked the ancient wooden door and led Natasha inside the secret, little-used room.
Maggie turned the lights on when they entered the cozy alcove. A four-poster bed, covered in a luxurious cream silk duvet, was in the center of the room, flanked by two dark mahogany carved tables topped by brass candle lamps. A rich sky blue, mint green and rose Belgian tapestry of flora and fauna hung on a burnished brass rod above the bed. Maggie briskly fluffed up the bed pillows and turned down the duvet.
"You may place your things in here." Maggie unlocked the intricately carved mahogany armoire and handed the key to Natasha. It was a massive piece of furniture, large enough to store her suitcases.
“Thank you. Everything is lovely. I feel right at home.” Natasha slipped the key in her pants’ pocket and stood still, marveling at all the homey touches in the beautifully decorated room. She had always loved the secret chamber and how it felt like a serene cocoon. Quiet and incredibly peaceful, it was the perfect place to sing. She could sing as high as she wanted or belt a tune as loud as she wished without disturbing anyone.
"Ian had a bathroom installed in this chamber last year, complete with a shower and bathtub. There's running hot water too," Ranald said proudly as he put the bags down beside the bed.
“A warm soak in the tub would be heavenly. Thank you for the beautiful flowers," she said, indicating the crystal vase brimming with freshly cut crimson poppies on an antique vanity in front of the bed. “And for the ride over.”
“You’re welcome. Maggie has been in a tizzy ever since your phone call,” Ranald said. “Wait till you see the sweater she knit for Evita.”
Maggie waved him off with a scolding look. “Och, Mr. Duncan, now you spoiled it. It was supposed to be a surprise!” She turned to Natasha. “You must have a wee bit of jet lag, lovey. Rest now. Tea is at four and dinner at seven. If you’d rather sleep than have tea, that’s fine."
Natasha smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of missing your tea.”
“Good.” Maggie took Evita out of the kennel and cuddled her to her bosom. “The wee one and I are going to get acquainted now. See you in a bit.” She gave Natasha a jaunty wave and shooed Ranald out before her.
When they left, Natasha bathed in rose-scented water and washed her hair before donning a soft chenille robe. She lit the candles beside the bed and wallowed in the luxury of the candle-lit glow. Filled with wonder, she gazed at the fireplace. Tonight she'd sleep blissfully in a toasty room and leave her New York worries behind. She reclined on the eiderdown comforter, closed her eyes and gave into the jet lag that overtook her.
When Natasha awoke, the room smelled of melted wax. She turned on the chandelier above the bed and checked her watch. 3:30 pm. She couldn’t believe she’d slept so long and so deeply. She had just enough time to get dressed and run downstairs for tea.
Natasha found Maggie in the patio garden, surrounded by clusters of wild flowers flourishing in the cool, vaporous weather. Bluebells and honeysuckle, many varieties of thistle and a splendid display of roses filled the garden with vivid color.
"Come sit beside me." Maggie patted the space next to her on a dark green wrought iron bench. “Dugie prepared some treats. Are you hungry, lass?”
“Yes. Everything looks delicious.” Natasha’s stomach rumbled at the tempting sight of assorted tea sandwiches, plump currant-studded scones, clotted cream and homemade raspberry jam set out by the cook. Dugie had been the MacGregor family cook since Ian was born. She had started out as the kitchen maid and was now running the kitchen with the help of her daughter, Emma.
Maggie poured Earl Grey tea into delicate porcelain teacups and handed her a steaming cup.
“Thank you.” Natasha took a sip of the fragrant, perfectly brewed tea. “Where’s Ranald?”
“He won’t be joining us. He’s giving Evita a grand tour of the grounds. She’s already gotten more kisses from Ranald in one day than I have all month,” Maggie said with a snort. She handed Natasha a porcelain dish and offered her a scone.
“Thanks.” Natasha broke off a piece and slathered a spoonful of cream and a dab of raspberry jam on top before devouring it in two bites. “Oh, yum. It’s so good!”
“Dugie will be happy to hear it. She’s had her wee daughter on a tight schedule. Emma’s head has been in the clouds since she got engaged to young Colin last month.”
Natasha smiled. “That’s nice. I remember Emma. She was sweet and quiet as she followed Dugie around,” she said, recalling the shy girl.
“It’s hard for her to get a word in edgewise. Dugie’s bossy and verra outspoken,” Maggie said, chuckling. She pointed to a coppery-orange rose and looked at Natasha expectantly. "Do you remember those roses?”
Natasha nodded quietly.
“And the name Ian chose for this hybrid?"
“Yes, he named them after me," Natasha said with a pang. Maggie seemed to think everything was fine between her and Ian now. Sadly, it wasn’t the case.
Maggie laid a gentle hand on Natasha’s forearm. "Why so glum?"
"I didn’t realize I looked sad, Maggie. I guess it’s because I wanted to make peace with Ian before coming to Glenhaven, but he still hasn't forgiven me for breaking off our engagement. I've missed him terribly."
Maggie patted Natasha's shoulder. "Don’t give up, even if Ian pushes you away. After your break-up, the lad was a mess. He had dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping and his cheeks were gaunt from barely eating. He was in a foul temper for weeks. Ranald and I were beside ourselves."
Natasha drew in a ragged sigh. “What did you do?”
Maggie’s wise eyes glowed with zeal. “I badgered him so much to open up, he finally did, just to quiet me. Ian felt torn apart inside. He had planned a life with you here and you betrayed him when Anitra intervened." She shook her head unhappily. “Those were his words, not mine.”
Natasha blinked back tears. Her shoulders slumped as she set the scone on the plate, her appetite gone. “I didn't mean to betray him, Maggie. I couldn't be in a marriage that was so limiting. I had just graduated and was eager to spread my wings with music and follow my dreams—dreams Ian couldn't share."
Bittersweet memories came flooding back to the summer when she’d first met Ian. He had been formidable even then, but also tender and kind, tilting her world off its axis in the span of a summer. Crazy in love, they began a passionate, long distance relationship that culminated in Ian proposing marriage and Natasha impulsively accepting.
But then reality had set in when she got word she’d landed her first adult role on Broadway. As a child, she’d starred in
Annie
, but right afterward, Anitra had plucked her out of show business proclaiming that Natasha couldn’t audition until she completed a formal education, classically trained in music, dance and acting at Juilliard. Sheltered from the outside world and immersed in her craft, Natasha had worked diligently because nothing brought her more pleasure than singing and using her talent to make others happy. Before meeting Ian, her whole world had consisted of music and performing.
When she fell in love with him, she fell hard. She hadn’t known how to balance their love with her commitment to her career. Sadly, neither had Ian.
Maggie gently squeezed Natasha’s hand. "I remember everything you wrote me following the break-up. I’m glad you kept in touch with us over the years."
Natasha hugged her. "How could I not? I love you and Ranald. And I
loved
Ian, with all my heart. I never meant to hurt him, but he wasn't able to compromise."
Maggie nodded. "Time has passed and he’s older and wiser. Perhaps his heart has changed."
"I doubt it. He was eager to be rid of me at Inverness.”
Maggie waved her hand in dismissal. "Och. The stubborn lad hasn't gotten over you." "It’s not like that. We hadn't spent ten minutes together in his New York office before we argued," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.
Maggie grinned. "It's good to have a little conflict now and then. Ranald says he looks forward to little fights with me so he can enjoy makin’ up. You ken?"
"Aye, Maggie, I ken," Natasha said. “But what about Danielle?”
“Who told you about Danielle?” Maggie asked, surprised. She looked heavenward. “Never mind, I’m sure it was chatty Ranald.”
“Are Ian and Danielle a couple?”
Maggie hitched a shoulder in a half-shrug as if she didn’t give it much importance. “Last I heard, he wasn’t dating her anymore.”
“But aren’t they collaborating on Ian’s clinic?” If so, Ian had to have close contact with Danielle, girlfriend or not.
“I’m not sure. I wouldn’t worry about that, luv. On another note…your mother called earlier," she said, changing the subject before Natasha could ask more questions.
Natasha’s eyes shot open. “Oh no. What did she say?”
“She asked if I knew where you were, but I didn’t say anything about you coming here.”
“Good!” She touched Maggie’s hand. “Thank you. I wasn’t able to reach Anitra before I left, so I left a message that I’d be out of the show on a temporary leave of absence. I don't want her to know I’m at Glenhaven, considering how she feels about Ian."
"It's a shame those two never got along,” Maggie said, her mouth making a tsking sound.
"I've never understood how Daddy likes Ian so much, yet Anitra hated him from the start."
Maggie looked mystified as she sipped her tea. “I dunno. Different personalities, I guess,” she said after a pause. “Just like Ian and his father. As different as night and day, those two.”
“What was Malcolm like? Ian never said much about his father.”
“Malcolm was Ranald’s older brother, ye know. He was verra successful and ambitious, but also callous—in business and with women. Ian’s mum, Fiona, had a gentle spirit, but Malcolm was a notorious ladies’ man.”
“Really?” This was the first Natasha had heard of it.