‘Oh, well, at least we’ve only got the one—unless you’ve got any others stashed away somewhere that I don’t know about?’
‘Hardly. One’s quite enough to worry about.’ He sat back, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. ‘So how are you getting on with Alec?’
Maisie smiled, feeling a little wave of affection for the decent young man her daughter had fallen in love with. ‘Very well. You’re right, he adores her.’
‘He does.’ He put the spoon down with exaggerated care. ‘Do you know why the wedding’s so rushed?’
‘Jenni did tell me—when I asked her if she was pregnant.’
He chuckled softly, then his eyes locked with hers and his smile faded. ‘I envy them. I envy them for being so sure, for having the time to learn how to love each other, for having the common sense to wait and do things properly. Maybe if we’d done that, things might have been different.’
‘They would. We wouldn’t have had Jenni, for a start, so I can’t wish it undone, Rob. But I might wish it done better. Differently.’
‘How?’
She sighed softly, fiddling with the crumbs on her plate, her hair falling forward and shielding her eyes from his searching gaze. ‘Maybe if you hadn’t gone away to the navy? If my father hadn’t thrown me out?’ She lifted her head and met his eyes. ‘If your father hadn’t thought I was a tramp?’
He went very still. ‘Oh, come on, he never thought that.’
‘Oh, he did. He said so. I heard him, talking to your mother. You were away—it was just after I’d had Jenni.’
Emotions chased through his eyes, and she watched them, watched as the truth registered. He let out his breath on a quiet, slightly uneven sigh. ‘I took you away from your familiar surroundings and brought you here because I thought you’d be happier here, better looked after, but it was a disaster, wasn’t it?’
She nodded. ‘They didn’t want me. Why would they? My own family didn’t, what on earth made either of us think yours would?’
He dropped his elbows back onto the table and steepled his fingers, pressing them thoughtfully against his mouth. ‘Maisie, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured. ‘No wonder you left.’
‘And you didn’t follow me.’
‘You didn’t want me to.’
‘Oh, I did, Rob,’ she said softly. ‘But you couldn’t cope with it all, any more than I could.’
His eyes clouded. ‘No, you’re right. I couldn’t. I was spending months at a time under the sea, desperate for the feel of the wind in my hair and the sun on my face, and when I was home you were sad and withdrawn, the baby was crying, and I didn’t know what to do to help you.’
‘Because you didn’t know me. And I didn’t know you, Rob,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t even know you were going to be a Laird until we came up here.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? It’s not as if I’m the clan chief. I’m just a squire, really. It’s virtually meaningless—feudal nonsense.’
‘No, it’s not. It has implications for where you live your life. There’s no choice, if you’re going to do it properly. The Laird of Ardnashiel lives in the castle on the estate. End of.’
‘It’s not exactly Siberia,’ he said defensively, but she just arched a brow.
‘Really? It feels like it in the winter, believe me, when you can’t drive and you’re stuck there with a little baby and her father’s out there somewhere under the sea out of reach for months at a time. And it doesn’t help when his parents despise you and only tolerate your presence because you’ve got their grandchild.’
‘I had to go to sea. You knew I was committed to the navy for six years.’
‘But not the subs,’ she said, feeling the old frustration and disappointment rise up. ‘You could have switched—even if you’d been at sea, we would have been in touch then, I could have talked to you from time to time, but no. You chose to go into the submarines, you chose to isolate yourself from us for months at a time, and left me there alone.’
‘You weren’t alone!’
‘Wasn’t I?’ she asked softly. ‘Who was there for me, Robert? Not your parents, that’s for sure. Your father thought I was a slut, and your mother thought I was a gold-digging little whore, deliberately getting pregnant to get my hands on the estate I didn’t even know you had coming to you, though who knows why anyone in their right mind would want to live in a forbidding pile of rock somewhere just shy of the Arctic Circle? If it hadn’t been for Mrs McCrae taking me under her wing, I seriously think I wouldn’t have survived it.’
He stared at her, his face expressionless, and then he stood up. ‘Come on, we’re leaving,’ he said, and walked out.
She heard his footsteps crossing the room, then someone coughed, breaking the silence, and the conversation resumed around her, a low hum, and speculative glances…
She followed him out, and found him standing down by the shore, hands rammed in his pockets.
He turned to her, his eyes searching.
‘Was it really that bad, Maisie?’
She gave a choked laugh. ‘Oh, yes, Robert, it really was that bad. And now they all know,’ she added, gesturing to the café behind her.
He waved a hand dismissively. ‘They’re tourists. They don’t know who we are, it doesn’t matter.’
‘So why didn’t you stay and finish the conversation?’
‘Good idea. You can tell me why you left me, and took my daughter with you.’
‘You left me, Rob! You left me here, at the mercy of your parents. I felt utterly abandoned. Is it any wonder I walked away? And I didn’t leave you, I left Ardnashiel. Maybe I should have stayed away and let sleeping dogs lie.’
He held her eyes for several seconds, then without another word he turned on his heel, strode back to the car and got in, staring straight ahead while he waited for her to join him.
Once again, the drive back to the castle was conducted in a screaming silence.
‘Where did you go? We were looking for you everywhere, and then Alec spotted the car was missing.’
Rob put the roof up and got out without a word, leaving Maisie to talk to Jenni. His emotions were at fever pitch. He and Maisie needed time and space to talk, but of course there wasn’t any, and there was probably no point in any case. It was all water under the bridge, over years ago, but he was deeply troubled by her description of her time there without him.
If it hadn’t been for Mrs McCrae taking me under her wing, I seriously think I wouldn’t have survived it. You left me there. I felt utterly abandoned. I didn’t leave you, I left Ardnashiel.
‘Where’s your grandmother?’ he said a little shortly, and Jenni’s eyes widened with distress.
‘Have you two been fighting again?’ she said, and turning to Alec she threw herself into his arms and sobbed.
‘Damn,’ he muttered, and strode off into the castle, looking for his mother. He found her in the drawing room, reading a book, of all things, while the world went to pieces. He took it out of her hand. ‘Talk to me,’ he demanded abruptly. ‘I want to know what went on here while I was at sea.’
She went very still. ‘Robert, nothing went on.’
‘That’s not how Maisie sees it.’
‘Well, that doesn’t surprise me, she never did make any attempt to see it from our point of view.’
‘And what point of view was that?’
‘Oh, come on. You were young, rich, poised on the threshold of your life—you were a good catch, Robert, and she caught you. Your father said she was a tramp—’
‘Don’t—ever—call her that again,’ he said, his voice deadly quiet. ‘Not that it’s any of your damn business, but Maisie was a virgin when I met her. And besides, if she’d been after my inheritance, don’t you think she would have stuck around? She hasn’t even taken maintenance from me all these years!’
She bristled. ‘Why would she need maintenance? You gave her a house—the house we’d given you for your eighteenth birthday! What more could she want?’
‘A home? A husband? Someone to love her—someone whose parents didn’t think she was a gold-digging little whore? She heard you, Mum. She heard you and Dad talking.’
His mother went white, her eyes widening with distress. ‘No! She wasn’t meant to hear—’
‘You’re damn right she wasn’t. You weren’t meant to have said it! I trusted you to look after her, to keep her safe, to make her welcome, and all you did was regard her with disgust and suspicion.’
‘But your father said—’
‘I know what my father said, and I have no need to ever hear it again. That doesn’t excuse you. I think you owe her an apology, and I think you should do it now, before she leaves.’
‘She’s leaving? So soon?’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Give me one good reason—just one—why she should stay another minute!’
She couldn’t. Of course not. There wasn’t one.
He walked away, looking for the dogs, needing to escape, and found them in the kitchen, sitting hopefully at Mrs McCrae’s feet.
‘Lunch is all ready when you are,’ she said, and he stared at her blankly. Lunch? What did lunch have to do with anything?
‘You’d better hold it,’ he growled. ‘I don’t think there’s a snowflake’s chance in hell of us all sitting down together at a table right now. Dogs?’
‘Oh, dear, no, no’ another scrap, Robert,’ she tutted, but he ignored her, slapped his leg for the dogs and went out. They dragged themselves away from Mrs McCrae and followed him along the shore and up to the ruins of the castle, and he stood there, in the broken remains of the tower where he and Maisie had spent so much time, waiting for his emotions to subside, for some semblance of peace to come.
It didn’t.
But Maisie did, her footsteps almost silent on the soft grass, any noise drowned out by the whisper of the wind. The dogs alerted him, running to greet her, and he waited, turning towards her, arms folded, letting her set the tone.
‘Can we talk?’
He gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t know—can we? We can’t usually manage it but it’s probably about time.’ He looked down, scuffing the grass with his toe, then he looked up and met her eyes again. ‘I owe you an apology—again. We all do.’
‘I’ve seen your mother. Apparently she didn’t know I’d overheard those things, and she’s mortified.’
‘Good. She needs to be. I’m so angry with her.’
‘You upset her, Robert.’
He snorted. ‘Not nearly as much as she upset me, I can tell you.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’
She shrugged. ‘Causing a scene in the café?’
He laughed softly and held out his arms, the fight going out of him. ‘What a mess. Come here, Maisie. You look as if you could do with a hug, and I know I could.’
She hesitated, looked around at the place where he’d held her so many times, and for the first time in twenty years, she went back into his arms.
They closed around her, folding her firmly against the solid warmth of his chest, and she rested her head against his heart and listened to its even, steady beat while the tension drained out of her. Lord, how she’d missed this— missed the feel of his arms, the strength of his body, the sound of his heart under her ear.
They stood like that for an age, silent, unmoving, just holding on, and then she lifted her head and met his eyes, easing back a little but still standing in the loose circle of his arms.
‘We should go back,’ she said. ‘Jenni’s terribly upset. She hates rows at the best of times, and she’s got her finals coming up, the wedding to organise—the last thing she needs is us coming to blows. We need to put this on one side and concentrate on her for now.’
‘I agree. And the wedding’s only the start of it, Maisie. OK, it might be a bit soon to start thinking about it, but— well, one day we’re going to be grandparents. It might be an idea if we were at least friends. It’s a pity you don’t live closer.’
‘I know, but my life’s in Cambridge, Rob. And as you said yourself, it’s not exactly Outer Mongolia up here.’
‘Siberia.’
She felt herself smile reluctantly. ‘Whatever. I can see Jenni and Alec and the grandchildren whenever I want. I can come and stay with them—presumably they’ll be living on the estate?’
‘Yes, they’re moving into the gatehouse. It’s pretty, it’s got a safe, enclosed garden, it’s the closest to the village for Jenni to socialise with other mums when the time comes, and it’s ideal. It’s got four bedrooms, so there’ll be plenty of room for you, and there are always other cottages we can put you in if you’d rather. And ultimately, of course, they’ll have the castle.’
‘Not for a long while, I hope.’
His mouth quirked into a gentle smile. ‘Hopefully not. And in the meantime, do you think we can try and be friends? Maybe get to know each other, at last?’
‘Not before time.’ She smiled up at him wryly. ‘Did you know Alec brought Jenni up here for a picnic on Tuesday night and proposed to her?’
‘Here? No, I didn’t.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘How ironic they should choose the place she might have been conceived.’
‘I know. She said it was freezing, but very romantic.’ She swallowed, trying not to think about the past, about lying with him under the stars on the blanket he’d hidden here, huddled together for warmth. They’d been cold, too, but it had been worth it, just to be alone with him away from prying eyes.
Until it had all gone wrong.
‘I’m not surprised he planned it like that. He adores her— and he’s picking up all the pieces at the moment,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I suppose we’d better go and pour oil on the troubled waters and let him off the hook.’ He let her go, stepping back so she felt the chilly wind cooling her body where it had been in contact with his. It made her shiver, and she turned and headed back down to the castle, Rob behind her and the dogs running around their feet, while she wished—oh, how she wished—that things could have been different.
They walked in through the kitchen door to a welcoming committee of anxious faces and reddened eyes.
‘So, Mrs McCrae, what’s for lunch? I’m starving, and we’ve got a wedding to finish planning,’ Rob said, and there was a collective sigh of relief as she bustled to the stove and pulled the stockpot onto the hob.
‘A good rich broth to keep the wind out, and I found some more cheese yesterday at that café and shop on the way to Fort William. You know the one. It’s new, Maisie. You might not have seen it, lass.’
Rob met Maisie’s eyes and one brow hitched—a tiny movement only she would have noticed, she was sure, and she smiled wryly and looked away. ‘I do know the one,’ she said blandly, and pulled a chair out and smiled at everyone. ‘Right, what else needs considering?’ she asked, settling herself down at the scrubbed old table where she’d spent hours in that long-ago winter, keeping Jenni warm by the stove while Mrs McCrae had bustled around them.
‘Tons,’ Jenni said, looking despairing.
‘What are you doing about the wedding cake, hen?’ Mrs McCrae asked her, spoon poised over the pot. ‘Because a good fruit can’t be hurried, and you’ve only got ten weeks today. I’ll need to be getting on wi’ it.’
Jenni and Alec exchanged glances. ‘Um, we don’t really like fruit cake,’ Jenni said carefully. ‘In fact, lots of people don’t like fruit cake. We thought we might not bother.’
Mrs McCrae turned to them, her face scandalised.
‘Y’ have tae have a cake!’ she exclaimed in horror.
Oh, no, another fight brewing, Maisie thought, and chipped in.
‘At some of the weddings I’ve been to, they’ve had a cake made of cheese. That’s very popular now.’
‘A cheesecake?’ Mrs McCrae said, sounding hugely unimpressed. Helen opened her mouth, thought better of it and said nothing, to Maisie’s surprise and relief.
‘No, a stack of whole cheeses, like the tiers of a
wedding cake, only made of cheese. They can look wonderful decorated with grapes and things, and people have them as the centrepiece of the buffet, or just as a huge cheeseboard to follow the meal. The bride and groom cut them in the normal way. You could source local cheeses—there are some wonderful ones apart from the Mull and Orkney cheddars, and you could add others. Just a thought.’
‘I really like that idea,’ Alec said slowly, a smile dawning on his face, and Maisie let out a slow, quiet sigh of relief.
‘So do I—and it’s easily dealt with,’ Rob said. ‘Brilliant, Maisie. Thanks for that.’
‘I sha’ still make a wee fruit for ’e, it’ll be expected,’ Mrs McCrae muttered, stirring the pot as if she was beating the demons out of it, and then she smacked the spoon down and Maisie stifled a smile. ‘Right, then, who’s for Scotch broth? Or do you no’ like that today, either?’
They tackled the rest of the things after lunch, until Jenni and Alec had to see the minister, and then Helen went to lie down for a while and Maisie and Rob were left alone together in the drawing room.
‘So what else is there?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t really know. I imagine table linen will be included in the table hire. Or do the caterers supply it with the crockery and glassware and so on?’
‘Probably—to both. I’ll get onto the hotel in the village and check they can do the catering, ring the marquee people for a quote and book the piper in the morning, and I need to track down a ceilidh band for the dance. There’s one in the village and they’re pretty good, but I don’t know how Alec feels about them. We’d better ask.’ He slumped against the chair back and shook his head slowly. ‘There can’t surely be much more, can there?’
‘The order of service? Choosing a menu, then printing or ordering the menu cards, place names, table plan—that can only be done when you’ve got the replies—’
‘Maisie, do you have to go back? I mean, I know you do, but couldn’t you just go for the weddings and do the rest from here? I take it it’s all digital?’
‘Oh, of course, but I still have to talk them through with the couples afterwards and sort out their albums.’
Mother of the Bride Page 8