by Mary Birk
It was like he’d finally learned what life was about. People were going around having these unbelievable pleasures every day. How did they act as if this wasn’t happening in their beds at night? And in their cars.
When Darryl met his parents, he’d see them as real people and not keep talking about how good it would be if they died soon, so Lance wouldn’t have to wait to inherit his share of their money. Lance knew Darryl couldn’t mean it.
He looked down at the blond head moving up and down on him. Then he couldn’t think anymore.
Chapter 9
DUNBARYN CASTLE, or at least the main house connected to the original structure, wasn’t as old as it looked, having been built in the early eighteen hundreds to replace an earlier 17th century iteration which had burned down. The thousand-acre estate included not only the castle itself, but also one of the few whiskey distilleries in Scotland still owned by Scots. Foreigners were buying up everything they could lay their hands on, but they hadn’t had any luck with the Reids’ firmly entrenched, and financially successful, operation.
Through the lightly falling snow, the castle in the distance seemed magically compelling. This was the kind of place George Greene had wanted to be from when he was growing up in a low-income tenement in Glasgow. Now he had money and position, but places like this still tugged at his heart. Even if he could find a comparable place to buy, it wasn’t the same thing as having been born to it. There were things you couldn’t buy your way into. Not many, but some.
Driving down the long road to the house’s entrance in his large silver Mercedes, he spotted a herd of deer running across the field to his right. Stay off the bloody road, he thought. Hitting one of the beautiful creatures would mean an ungodly smash-up for both of them. Just as he thought they’d safely changed course, the herd swerved and bounded across the road directly in front of him. With skillful driving and a considerable measure of luck, he brought the car to a stop, narrowly missing going off the road. A doe turned and froze, looking at him.
“Go on, you silly girl. Standing there looking at cars is playing with fire.” He spoke out loud as he sat back waiting for the deer to pass. He loved the Scottish countryside, not just here, but the land around Greenebrae Lodge, the country home he’d bought when he’d married his first wife and where he still lived today. The home he’d wanted to be their family home. It wasn’t on a scale with Dunbaryn, of course, but it was a respectable family home all the same, and it would go to his children when he and Flora passed on. Maybe someday there would be grandchildren there, and the house would be alive again as it had been when his children were young—before their mother had divorced him.
Right now, however, Greenebrae Lodge was lonely and empty, and George was glad to be spending Christmas at Dunbaryn Castle. With children and laughter and noise. A real Christmas. And for the first time since Terrence Reid had married, Miranda would be joining them.
Nearing the house, he noted the trees on the long approach to the house had been illuminated by tiny fairy lights. He shook his head in admiration. Juliette Reid knew how to do Christmas right, that was for certain. She must’ve had a crew of men out there on lifts stringing lights for days, all to welcome visitors to the castle for Christmas. Leave it to a Frenchwoman to make a drafty old Scottish castle feel warm and homey. Charles Reid was a lucky man.
George was lucky as well. Because of the Reids’ hospitality, he would be spending Christmas with the people he cared most about in the world.
*****
“You’re not going to ask her for the annulment, are you?” Miranda looked away from the fire burning in the big stone fireplace and into his eyes.
Reid, startled from his own thoughts, tried to focus. “What?”
“Why didn’t you go up and talk to her?”
“She’s tired. I’ll go up in a bit after she gets settled.”
“You’re going to change your mind.” Her voice rose slightly, as if she were upset. “I can tell from your face the effect she has on you.”
“It’s not your problem.”
“She’s still in love with you.”
“Not likely.” The troubling thought that Miranda might have misinterpreted the resumption of their friendship as meaning something more came into his head. He needed to make sure there was no misunderstanding. He kept his voice low so that he could not be overheard.
“Miranda, you understand, don’t you, that I’m not interested in another relationship?”
“I just don’t want to see you hurt.” She took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
He pulled his hand away, trying not to seem too abrupt. “I’ll be fine.”
Their conversation was interrupted when the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of more guests. He looked up to see his mother going toward the reception hall from the dining room to get the door. Miranda followed his gaze, and the sound of guests being cheerfully welcomed carried back to where they were standing.
Glancing at the entrance to the room where his mother was ushering in the new arrivals, Miranda said, “There’s Mum now. Come with me to say hello.”
They moved forward, and Miranda embraced her mother, then coolly cheek-kissed her stepfather. “Mum, you look lovely as always. Actually, even more than usual.”
Miranda was right, Reid thought. Lady Flora had lost that mousy, drab look she’d been increasingly taking on as she grew older. She looked younger, happy, and almost girlish. She was younger than his own mother, Reid knew. So she’d be in her early fifties. Close behind the Kensingtons, came Miranda’s brother, Rodney Greene, and a girl with short curly blond hair. Krystal with a K, he guessed.
Reid watched as his father greeted the newcomers. He admired his father, whose quiet strength was never oppressive or overbearing. After perfunctorily greeting the guests himself, Reid manned the drinks table and did the honors, pouring drinks for those who wanted something stronger than tea.
Rodney and his date were the first in line. “How have you been, Terrence?”
“Well enough. Busy.” Reid looked at the curly-haired blonde and smiled. “What can I get you, Krystal? Wine, a cocktail? Eggnog?”
She looked at him but didn’t speak. Definitely a bit shy.
“Krystal, Lord Reid asked what you wanted to drink.” Rodney’s voice was mildly indulgent.
“Right, sorry. White wine, I guess.”
He poured the wine while the young woman watched as if he were performing magic.
“How about you, Rodney?” Reid wondered how well Rodney had known Broderick Pooley, and how much he knew about Pooley’s troubles. Reid doubted anyone at Damien Investments had known Pooley was cooperating with the police, but there may have been rumors about what was going on with the hedge fund losses and his unhappy customer.
“A stiff whiskey would do it, thanks. Did Anne and the baby get here yet?”
The rapt interest in Krystal’s face at Rodney’s question puzzled Reid, until he realized it was probably fueled by the tabloids.
“They’re resting upstairs. They’ll be down for dinner. Her sister Meg is here, as well. The rest of her family will arrive tomorrow.”
“It’ll be good to see Anne again. I’ll just take Krystal over and introduce her to everyone. She’s left her own family’s Christmas to join us.”
Reid smiled at her. “I hope you’ll not find us too boring.”
“I don’t think you’re boring at all. Not at all.” She looked at him as if he’d just said the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard.
Rodney gave Reid an amused look and steered Krystal away.
After finishing his bartending duties, Reid opened a beer for himself. He let his gaze drift over to the Christmas tree. The strong pine fragrance brought to mind memories of the countless holidays in this house with his family. This was always a wonderful time at Dunbaryn. And this would be Michael’s first Christmas. Strangely, it would also be the first Christmas Anne and he’d ever spent together, though they’d been married almost
three years. Last Christmas she’d spent with Andrew Grainger, and the Christmas before she’d been with her family in San Francisco. Both times he’d been here without her—and miserable. They never seemed to be speaking to each other at Christmas. Ironic that the only time they would share the holiday would be when they were finally going to put an end to this charade of a marriage.
He walked over to the windows. Although darkness had fallen, the twinkling fairy lights adorning the bushes and trees along the way to the house illuminated the falling snowflakes. The ground was now covered with a thick, soft blanket of snow. Everything outside looked peaceful and festive, but inside of him there was no peace.
She was upstairs.
*****
Reid’s eyes traveled toward the ornately carved stairway in the reception hall up which Anne had disappeared with Michael. He wanted to hold his child again, try to get to know the little baby that was his son. He went over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. Now they’d had some time to get settled, surely it would be all right if he went up and saw how they were doing. He would just check and see if they needed anything.
Even though he had no intention of resuming his former relationship with Anne, he wanted the two of them to be able to be on civil terms for the sake of the child. Besides, he could talk to her about the annulment. He needed to let her know his intentions as soon as possible so there could be no misunderstandings. Who knew what steps she’d already taken herself?
Just as he started up the stairs, the doorbell rang. Because he was closest to the door, he went back down the stairs to answer it. He pulled open the heavy door, letting in a blast of cold. George Greene stood there, looking like the successful businessman he was. The smell of the fresh winter air coming in with George made Reid suddenly wish for escape.
George wasn’t a handsome man, being somewhat stocky with a wide face. His front teeth had a gap between them, and his mouth was overlarge. But somehow everything about him worked together to create the aura of a powerful man. His warm confidence not only did wonders for him in business, but made everyone he talked to feel like he’d singled them out and that each one was the single focus of his attention.
“George, welcome. So glad you’re going to be joining us.”
“I wouldn’t miss the christening of your child for anything, lad—or your mother’s wonderful Christmas.” George came in and handed his coat and hat to the outstretched hands of Bernard who had just entered the hallway. “Thanks so much, Bernard. How’re you doing?”
“Fine, sir. Do you have bags in the car?”
George confessed he did, and handed Bernard the car keys.
“I’ll just fetch them after I’ve hung up your things.”
George thanked him, then turned to Reid. “So where is the little man? Has he arrived yet?”
“He’s up with his mother having something to eat and a little nap right now. I was just going to go check on them.” Reid motioned to the stairs. “Would you mind if I excused myself?”
“Oh, no, no, my dear boy. You go on. I’ll see myself in to where the others are. Is everyone here?”
“I think everyone’s here that’s coming tonight, except Rick and his girl, who should be here any moment.”
The older man winked at Reid. “I’ll just go see if there is a little whiskey left for me.”
Relieved of hosting responsibilities, Reid bounded up the stairs. Just outside the room where he knew Anne would be, he stopped and listened at the door. Everything was quiet as far as he could tell. He knocked gently. When there was no answer, he tried again, not wanting to wake the baby if he was sleeping, but wanting to make sure his knock was audible.
Finally, Anne said, “Come in.”
He took a deep breath and opened the door. She was lying on the bed wearing a soft blue night-gown. The baby was beside her, a blanket covering him where he nursed.
“Is he asleep?”
She looked down at the baby. “Almost. But still eating.”
He went over to where the child lay beside her with his tiny head softly bobbing as he nursed. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “He’s put on almost two pounds since you saw him.” She adjusted the little blanket surrounding the baby to better conceal the breast to which the infant was attached.
He pretended not to notice her modesty. He knew those breasts so well. He could remember every curve, every vein that coursed through them. In his mind, he felt her soft skin and remembered how her breasts responded instantly to the touch of his fingers. Mentally, he shook himself, forcing his thoughts away before his hand could reach out on its own accord.
“Meg’s in her room?”
“Yes, she’s tired too. Will there be a lot of people for dinner tonight?”
“Somewhat. Not too bad.” He kept his voice cool.
“Is it all right if I bring him down with me to dinner? He has a little carrier basket I can keep him in. I don’t want to leave him, even if he’s sleeping.”
“Of course, he can’t be left. Besides, everyone will want to see him. We can keep him with us or by the table in his basket.”
“He’s pretty good about sleeping through almost everything.” She laid her head back down on the pillow. She looked at him, her clear blue eyes finally focusing on his face. “So how have you been, Terrence? I barely got to see you when you came to see Michael.”
“I thought it would be better that way—with how things are between us.”
“It’s been a difficult situation, I know. For both of us.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes glistened with the beginnings of tears.
“What’s done is done.” He wouldn’t let his heart soften at her tears.
She gave a small smile. “But now, finally, we can go on. Start over.”
“Yes.”
“But not together?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening. I thought when you found out Michael was yours, things could go back to how they were for us.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about, Anne.”
Her face seemed to freeze into a polite, noncommittal expression, but her unwavering gaze almost made him waver. “Of course. Go ahead.”
When he’d rehearsed these words to himself, they’d been so much easier to say. He hadn’t had those beautiful eyes fixed upon him, tunneling their way into his soul. Nevertheless, he had to say what he’d planned. “I’m sure what I’m going to say will come as no surprise to you, considering everything.” He kept himself turned away from her as he spoke. His throat seemed to have dried up, but he forced himself to go on.
Anne didn’t say anything, but he felt her eyes on him.
“You know as well as I do that we haven’t been able to make things work between us.” It took immense effort to keep his voice steady and impersonal when he’d been angry with her for so long. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t let her see the anger. Or his hurt. He turned back to face her.
She touched the soft down on Michael’s head. “We had some bad times, but we were so happy last spring, being together, planning our lives, our house, everything. And we created this beautiful child together.” Her voice carried a soft pleading note, and he could tell she wasn’t prepared for this.
“He’s wonderful. But we’re not. Not together. Together we’re a disaster.”
She shook her head. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true. We’ve been married almost three years, and I don’t think we’ve had two peaceful months the whole time.”
“We had a lot to deal with. We were at different stages in our lives; we lived in different countries, then this whole thing with the baby. But I love you. I thought you loved me. Don’t you?”
“Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” He came over and sat on the chair by the bed. “I want an annulment.”
“An annu
lment?”
“I think it’s the best thing. For you, as well as for me.”
“An annulment can’t possibly be best for our child.”
“An annulment doesn’t affect the legitimacy of a child. Only the marriage. It won’t have any effect on Michael.”
“An annulment.” Her face went blank, and he could no longer read anything in her expression. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes, and I’d like it if we could do this in as civilized a manner as possible.”
She wove her hand through her hair, the golden strands shimmering as they fell through her fingers. He loved that hair.
“You don’t love me anymore?” Her eyes searched his face.
“Things change. People change.”
“I still feel like I’m missing something. What’s happened?”
Did she really want him to spell it out? To tell her he knew she’d not been and never could be faithful to him? “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. We’re just too different. It simply could never work between us. Not only with how we are together, but you in the States, me here.”
“I told you I’d move here. You knew that. I understand you needed us to wait until we found out who the baby’s father was.” She looked down at the baby, then back up at him. “I miss you. I want to be with you. I think it’s important for Michael to be with you, too.”
“I fully intend being with my son as much as possible.”
“Something else must have happened. What was it?”
He wasn’t going to drag them into a sordid discussion. As long as she didn’t know he knew about her continuing her affair with Andrew Grainger, they could keep on pretending he wanted the annulment simply because they were incompatible.
“Anne, this can’t be a surprise. I told you in April we’d wait until the baby was born to end our marriage so it would be born in wedlock if it was mine.”