Another name floated to the forefront of her mind, from the conversation Sebastian had had with the pub’s landlord – who must be Robbie’s uncle. Jess had wondered about it ever since.
‘So, Catriona. Is she another relation?’
‘She’s my little cousin. Lives in Aberdeen now with a policeman, apparently. Playing happy families.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m pleased for her, of course, but it just makes for more pressure from my mother. “When are you going to settle down; you’re no spring chicken any longer, Robert. No fine young woman is going to want someone your age. You need to get out and find yourself a lass before it’s too late.”’ Robbie had slipped into an admirable impression of his mother, and it made Jess laugh.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said, without thinking. ‘I don’t think you’ll have much trouble finding a “fine young woman”, if you should want one …’ Her own impersonation was abysmal. A classic, if awful, attempt to mimic the accent.
‘Och, thanks. Thanks a lot.’
Robbie mirrored her terrible accent, and Jess was grateful they’d glossed over her rather clunky admission when he added, in his normal voice, ‘It’s hard to explain to her that’s not what I want. Never have.’ He spoke slowly and didn’t explain further, his words hanging in the air, full of unspoken meaning.
‘Oh. You mean you’re …’ Jess buried the remainder of the sentence. Was he gay? That made more sense – explained why a beautiful man might be living all alone like this. Perhaps he had a boyfriend, but their relationship was discreet. And if he was gay, that would explain why he’d remained unmoved by her awkward attempts to kiss him. There was no need to make him spell it out. Jess took a sip of tea, frowning at the cliché that the most handsome ones were always unavailable for one reason or another.
‘Were Catriona and Sebastian involved?’ In a clumsy attempt to move the conversation away from Robbie’s sexual orientation, she’d asked another over-personal question, realising she could have been a whole lot subtler about it when Robbie tugged in an awkward breath.
‘They were both very young. Lots of water has passed under the bridge since then.’ Robbie swilled the last of his tea around his mug before draining it and standing. He crossed to the window. ‘Weather has eased, if you need to get back.’
‘Right. Yes. I probably should.’ Jess tipped away the remains of her drink and rinsed her mug.
Robbie had unzipped Digby, releasing him from the mummy-like towelling robe he’d been enjoying, if the wag of his tail was anything to go by. His fur was also well on its way to drying and was toasty warm to the touch as Jess lifted him alongside her bag of wet clothes. ‘I’ll carry him back, I think. Can’t cope with the embarrassment of him running off again.’
‘He’s welcome any time,’ Robbie said, standing close enough when he opened the door for her to be able to catch the scent from his body spray as he smiled at her. ‘And so are you, Jess.’
Sebastian had been in the library, doing some more staring at pieces of paper covered with negative amounts of money, when he’d noticed the downpour. It had been dramatic enough for him to leave the desk, and the new sheaf of papers he’d dragged from one of the lower desk drawers, to stare through the windows as the water cascaded down.
He’d forgotten how heavily the rain could come down here. So heavily that visibility dwindled to a few feet of grey, and everything with any sense sought shelter and waited it out. Sebastian shivered, thankful for once to be inside the castle.
Back at the desk, he began to leaf through the papers, which seemed to have been shoved into drawers without any sense of order. It was going to take weeks to sort through all of this. And, in the meantime, roofs were leaking and would only continue to do so through the weather a Highland winter would throw at them, while the lion’s share of the villagers would continue in their muted disapproval. He didn’t altogether blame them, but he wasn’t sure opening up his precious music room to the local choir would do anything more than rub their noses in the situation. He was still smarting from Jess’s suggestion – who did she think she was? She’d only been here for a few days and was already trying to reorganise everything.
Maybe he should ring round, see if any of his nearest neighbours with large houses needed a temporary housekeeper. That way, he could reduce the outgoings by moving her sideways, rather than having to let her go. Because even though she seemed set on antagonising him, somehow trying to find a way to dismiss Jess was beginning to feel disingenuous. It didn’t sit well with him.
Sebastian pulled another pile of documents from a drawer. On top of this pile was a credit agreement with a Land Rover dealership. Jesus Christ. Even the almost-new Range Rover Evoque – his father’s vehicle which currently resided in pride of place in the garage – even that had a shedload of money owing on it.
He supposed that was an easy enough fix and made a note to call the garage to ask if they could dissolve the agreement. That would fix one financial leak. Sebastian wondered if the Audi his mother drove or Olivia’s Land Rover had money outstanding on them, too. What about the estate four-by-fours? God, he’d been so naive, had assumed the cars had been bought with actual money, not on finance agreements.
At least he knew his little VW was clear of any finance. Not surprising, really, as it was a good eight years old, and he’d bought it second-hand with money from his orchestra salary. It was due a service, though – the brakes had been a bit squeaky on his drive north.
More expense.
With a sigh, Sebastian glanced back through the window. The rain had finally let up, and rather than leaf through any more depressing paperwork, Sebastian decided to be proactive. He trudged up to the attic and emptied out the buckets – just in time, as it turned out: some of them were brimming.
Then he made for the kitchen to let Jess know he’d taken care of that chore.
Jess was humming a Whitney Houston song when Sebastian threaded his way through the kitchen, following the source of her voice into the scullery. With her back to the door, she jinked from side to side, hips swivelling as she shoved a bundle of clothes into the washing machine, dancing to her own rhythm as she blasted a perfectly pitched line from the song in the direction of the window.
Her oversized checked shirt and rolled-up jeans were a deviation from her normal clothing style. They didn’t look like they belonged to Jess at all, and as Sebastian was about to clear his throat to make his presence known, he realised he knew where he’d seen that shirt before.
That shirt belonged to the gamekeeper. And by the looks of the turn-ups, and the way they were cinched in at the waist, so did the jeans.
It was none of his business why the temporary housekeeper should be wearing Robbie Keel’s clothes, none of his business how she came to climb out of her own and need – or indeed, want – to put on some of his, instead. Nor was it any of his business why she was currently so cheerfully uninhibited and why it was a song about knowing whether a man was in love or not that had worked its way to the front of her mind.
If she and Robbie were becoming involved, then Sebastian should be pleased for them. There didn’t need to be any more to it than that. And he should interrupt her singing, tell her what he’d come her to say but, as Digby twisted to look at him, Sebastian decided he didn’t have the energy for another possible confrontation, so he turned and left the room before the little dog could alert Jess to his presence.
It might have been a bit of a guilty pleasure to continue to wear Robbie’s clothes long after she’d returned to the castle, but it was one which made Jess grin. Inappropriateness? She wasn’t averse to a bit of that, plus, if she pulled up the shirt’s collar and buried her nose in it, she could smell him.
The fact that he’d all but admitted he wouldn’t find her attractive, even if she were the last woman left on earth, didn’t alter the fact that Jess enjoyed his company, or mean that she couldn’t look forward to spending time with him and having him make her laugh. A sense of humour was something which was sorely missing from the inhabitants of Kirkshield Castle, but that didn’t have to mean she too had to spend the next six weeks wearing a poker face. And as she was going to launder the items before she returned them, she might as well get some wear out of them in the meantime.
A trip up to the attic shortly after she’d finished tidying the kitchen left Jess confused. The buckets had recently been emptied, for which she was grateful, but she wondered why whoever had done so hadn’t let her know. Shrugging the mystery off, she decided to head to the drawing room with some wood polish and a couple of dusters.
