‘No. It’s not that – it’s just that I’m not sure how to broach the subject with my children. Especially so soon after …’
‘Nowyou’re worried about preserving that old bastard’s memory?’ There was a spike of anger in his voice. Then he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. You know what you need to do, I suppose.’
Soon her walking shoes were laced and her damp hair teased into place as best as she could manage. Robbie held out her blue scarf.
‘Here. Take this with you. That way you can pretend that’s all you came here for.’
‘I don’t want to pretend, Robbie. I just need some time. This is a lot for me to have to deal with. Can you understand that?’
‘Aye. It’s a lot for me, too.’ Something had darkened in his expression, and Dee wanted to tell him everything was exactly as she wanted it to be, and once she’d told the children she would shout it from the rooftops, but she didn’t. She needed to be sure that what she was feeling was real, for his sake as much as for herself.
The sound of a low-flying helicopter took their attention, Dee spinning to the window to watch the yellow belly of the aircraft as it skirted around the castle grounds searching for somewhere to land.
‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
It was an odd way to conclude what had been the best few hours of Dee’s life – she’d made it sound as though he had provided her with a service, and she chastised herself for her awkwardness as he closed the cottage door and she headed along the granite slab path to the garden courtyard. She clutched the blue scarf between her fingers, hoping she hadn’t messed everything up.
Chapter 23
Sebastian heard the whirring of the helicopter’s blades and watched from the porch as the downwash swirled the icing-sugar snow. Eventually the blades came to a stop and doors popped open on the cabin, before the pilot and his passenger climbed out.
Edward Ellingham was suited and booted, his city shoes not a great choice in the inconvenient slipperiness of the snow, even though it was only a couple of inches thick. He picked his way through it and onto the stones of the gravel driveway, waiting for the pilot to pass him his briefcase before he stopped to admire the front aspect of the building.
Sebastian took the opportunity to stride out to meet him, hand outstretched.
‘Welcome to Kirkshield Castle. I’m the Earl of Kirkshield,’ he said. ‘But please call me Sebastian.’
‘Edward Ellingham. Everyone calls me Ellingham.’ The greeting was firm, as was the handshake. ‘Good to meet you, Sebastian.’
They stood and stared at the castle for a while, until Ellingham nodded. ‘Definitely got kerb appeal, I’ll give it that.’
As Ellingham shivered, Sebastian suggested they began their tour inside.
‘Excellent idea. I hadn’t factored in the temperature up here.’
Sebastian grinned. ‘It has nosedived over the last couple of days. I’m sure we can find you a coat so you can have a good look around the outside in due course.’
It was strange to walk around his family home looking at it through the dispassionate eyes of a potential purchaser: an investor who was looking at the bottom line, nothing else. The corner of the formal drawing room where his little sister Freya always used to conceal herself between a bureau and the wall whenever they played hide-and-seek meant nothing to Ellingham. Nor did the fact that it was the room in which Sebastian’s father had lectured his son on the ways of ‘men’ and had detonated any chance of his romance with Catriona by dropping his bombshell.
Ellingham was suitably impressed by the library and the unusual balcony, his enthusiasm palpable as he shot across the room to stare at the view from the massive French windows.
‘The space in here is absolutely spectacular,’ he said, marching along the bookcases, ignoring the desk at which Sebastian had discovered the full extent of his father’s overspending and his reckless disregard for the well-being of anyone and everyone on Kirkshield Estate.
‘I can see this space as a possible gym,’ Ellingham said as they headed into the breakfast room. ‘Lovely dual-aspect windows giving the guests excellent views while they work out. They like that kind of thing.’
Ellingham smiled at him, but all Sebastian could see was a memory from way back in the past, the morning of his eighth birthday. That was one of the days Mrs Keel had been standing in for someone his father had probably got bored with and dismissed, and she’d tripped on the edge of the rug, catapulting Sebastian’s soft-boiled egg from its cup. As Mrs Keel had squealed and regained her balance, the egg had soared through the air and smashed against the wall. Sebastian remembered them all finding it hilariously funny – even his father – especially when Mrs Keel made a timeless joke about it being as well she hadn’t put all the boiled eggs in one basket. If you looked carefully, it was still possible to make out the smudgy mark on the paintwork. Sebastian didn’t think Ellingham would want to see that.
It took everything Sebastian had to take him into the music room. Out of the entirety of the castle, the music room was the one space in which he’d always felt at home. Happy. Relaxed. Purposeful. Ellingham had his hand on the piano, the warmth from his palm leaving a smear of condensation as he asked if the instrument would be part of the deal.
If he was going to do this, it was time for Sebastian to let it all go – not just the bits of the castle he hated; he needed to let it all go. On a sigh he nodded. ‘It won’t fit into my London flat, so I guess it could be part of the negotiations.’
A double tap of Ellingham’s hand on the mahogany casing seemed suddenly proprietorial and Sebastian hurried to show him the rest of the building, then took him outside for a drive around the closest parts of the estate.
After the tour, and back in the library, Ellingham cut to the chase.
‘How badly is the estate in debt?’ he asked.
Sebastian felt himself prickle with anger. Even though the current finances were not of his making, he still felt responsible, somehow. Perhaps if he hadn’t left to pursue his dreams, his father wouldn’t have got everything into this much of a state. Perhaps his father had done it on purpose, to leave Sebastian a hell of a mess to sort out after he’d gone. His emotions must have been painted onto his expression because Ellingham held his hands up in a calming gesture.
