‘Don’t I always, Mother?’ he teased, hoping to lighten her mood and vowing to do his best to ensure his absence had minimal impact. As long as the internet connection remained fast and stable, he shouldn’t have any problems maintaining his usual work schedule.
‘Don’t let the staff hear you call me that or they’ll think we’re related,’ she shot back, and he chuckled. Mission accomplished – her mood had been suitably lightened. ‘Am I going to have to call youmy lairdwhen I next see you?’ Her laugh tinkled in his ear. It was something he’d not heard often since his dad died and Beverly had been forced to run the business by herself.
‘I don’t believe a title came with my inheritance,’ he told her.
‘That’s a pity.’ Then she was all business once more. ‘Keep me updated,’ she reminded him, and he heaved a sigh of relief when she ended the call.
He enjoyed what he did – keeping his father’s company alive and thriving – but sometimes he could do with a break.
Like now, for instance. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on holiday, had taken some time purely for himself.
As he turned his attention back to the room that had once belonged to Mhairi Gray, Rocco felt a frisson of something. He just hoped it was curiosity, and not her ghost coming to remonstrate with him for selling off her home.
Chapter 7
Yet another day dawned with Giselle ensconced in her chair outside the bothy, having slept poorly. She was trying to work out how she was to make a living once the castle changed hands. She’d attempted to look on the bright side, that someone might buy the castle and craft centre as a going concern, but she knew she was clutching at straws. With Mhairi’s passing, an era had ended and nothing would ever be the same again.
Giselle wished she could summon the energy to make her usual early morning trek to the loch, but she felt too sad, too despondent. What was the point? Very soon she might be packing up the contents of the studio and handing back the keys. And most likely, she’d also be packing up the bothy and handing those keys back to the mortgage company as well.
Damn Rocco Moore.
She sat for a while longer, hoping the peace and beauty of the morning would soothe her, but when her phone rang she was glad of the interruption to her melancholy thoughts.
‘Where are you?’ Izzy demanded. Her sister’s face beamed out of the screen, lightly tanned and perfectly made up. She looked so together and so gorgeous that it made her heart ache.
Giselle felt self-conscious, wrapped in an old blanket with her hair a tangled mess. ‘At the bothy.’ She turned the screen to show her twin the view.
Izzy did the same. She was walking along a busy street and the backdrop to Izzy’s voice was rumbling engines and honking horns. ‘I thought you’d be rock scrabbling or dibbling about on the beach,’ she said, her face once again filling the screen. ‘It looks like a nice day in Duncoorie.’
‘It is.’
‘Then why aren’t you annoying the crabs and seagulls?’
Giselle managed a small smile at her sister’s teasing. She knew Izzy was immensely proud of her and very supportive, just as Giselle was of her. ‘Why aren’tyoudesigning something fabulous instead of stomping along the street?’
‘Because I’m phoningyou, silly. Anyway, I’m on my way to work right now. Why aren’t you?’
‘Didn’t feel like it.’
‘Oh, Zelle, was the funeral really bad?’
‘No worse than expected. The service was lovely.’
‘There’s no need to be brave about it. I know how much Mhairi meant to you. I only met her a couple of times, but she was such a lovely woman.’
‘She was.’ Giselle paused. ‘The new owner was there.’
‘Who is it?’
‘A cousin, apparently.’
‘What’s he like?’
As gorgeous as I remember.‘He’s going to sell the castle.’
Giselle watched Izzy cross the road before her twin replied. ‘In a way, you can’t blame him. If someone handed me an old castle, I’d sell up, too.’
‘I know, but…’
