“Oh, things,” I say, evasively enough that she knows it’s best I don’t get into details. She nods quietly, then changes the subject.
“Have you seen your father lately?”
I nod. “Aye, saw him at breakfast. Why?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. He just seems… off lately.”
He always seems “off.” It doesn’t take much. The older he gets, the more cantankerous he becomes. He wants his tea just right, his toast just so. He wants everyone to respond to him immediately, and if things don't go his way, he almost has a tantrum. I don't tell her I’ve noticed this. It must be hard to be the wife of Bram Cowen.
"How so?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says, worrying her lip. "He just seems detached. Not even angry, which I've gotten used to. More like he’s… brooding."
Again, he’s always brooding, so this is nothing new. Still, she’s my mum, and I make it a point to ease her worry. She’s put up with more from him than any of us have.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t you worry, alright?”
She smiles. “Thanks, Mac. I tried to talk to Leith, and he says everything’s fine, Dad’s just having a hard time letting go of control, and I’m sure that’s part of it. Tate says the same, that he doesn’t like aging and allowing others to lead where he once did. But I’ve been married to him for over thirty-five years, and I think it’s more than that.”
I nod. “I know what you mean.” I don’t really, but I know a bit anyway, and I want her to know I’m listening.
I do wonder what it is, and I make a vow to myself that I will indeed look in on him. I don't think it’s something with his health, but I don’t want to neglect looking into something when Mum gives me fair warning.
I mull over what I’ll say to Bryn tonight, how I’ll get her to open up and trust me a little. The first thing I need to do is get rid of her bodyguards. Not that I’m planning on hurting her… yet. But I need her alone. I need to have privacy with her.
After I get rid of her bodyguards, I’m not sure what I’ll do, other than turn on the most brilliant charm I can muster.
I can do anything for the sake of the Clan.
Three hours later, I’m heading into town. Leith’s pulled some strings and gotten me a reservation at Soirée, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Scotland. We’ve pubs everywhere in the cities, but I’d like to do something a bit fancier. My plan is to meet her for a drink first, then casually mention I’m hungry for dinner. Wine and dine her, while I play the part of the gentleman. I won’t even try to get into her knickers quite yet. If I can hold off a wee bit, I can build up trust.
I will eventually, though.
I don’t think about breaking that trust. My goal is crystal clear, my focus perfect. I rarely think beyond what’s coming next, and I won’t now.
Islan helped me choose the right clothes for tonight. She knows what I’m up to, and unlike Paisley, approves. She eyes me icily when I head for the door.
“Knock her socks off,” she mutters, before turning back to her book. “Do it well. If you weren’t my brother, I’d say you look bloody smashing, but since that’s wrong, I’ll just say I did my job well.”
“Thanks?” I give her a salute, and she winks at me.
Islan was the one that saw how badly the Aitkens fucked up.
She knows they’ve tried to claim Paisley in an arranged marriage. She wants revenge almost as badly as I do.
I send Bryn a text.
On my way.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bryn
When I enterthe driveway to get to my family home, dread pools in my belly. I hate living here. If there's anything at all I want to do this year, it's make enough money at my boutique to get a place of my own. I don’t want to be obligated to my father any more than is absolutely necessary.
Not that my father will let me go easily.
Our family home is a beautiful, elegant, ridiculously ostentatious place smack dab in the centre of Inverness. While other people maintain privacy and distance, my family prefers to be the center of attention apparently.
