could always ask him to keep it to himself until Carl had managed to prove his worth and was able to tell his employers the truth…
In the early hours of the morning she started to dream. She was lying contentedly in bed in the arms of her lover, while they made wonderful plans for their future together.
Then in her dream she heard the urgent shrill of a phone, and, summoned away, her lover left her side.
Cold and bereft, she wept soundlessly, heartbroken, until he returned and she felt the brush of his lips as he kissed her softly.
But it was a goodbye kiss.
She put her arms around his neck and tried to keep him, to make him stay, but as though she was embracing a wraith he slipped from her grasp and walked away, and in the way that dreamers do she knew he was gone for ever.
Still, she searched for him everywhere, through strange, empty rooms and on every busy street, scanning faces as they went past, and in despair stopping anyone who looked remotely like him.
Then she saw him walking just ahead of her and, filled with joy, she ran after him and caught his arm. But when he turned to face her it was Neil and, his eyes cold and uncaring, he pulled his arm free and pushed her roughly away.
Though the disturbing dreams went on, they grew vague, hazy, until eventually she fell into a more settled slumber.
From then on she slept deeply, until her brain finally stirred into life and struggled to free itself from the clinging cobwebs of sleep.
But even when she was almost awake, she was aware of a lingering feeling of sadness and loss.
Opening her eyes, she found herself in a strange room. It was a split second before memory kicked in, and she recalled everything that had happened the previous night. The unexpected snow, meeting Ross, the instant attraction that had flared between them and the delight and magic they had shared.
Her spirits soaring, a smile on her lips, she turned towards him.
But the place beside her was cold and empty. If she smoothed the sheets and plumped up the pillow the last traces of him would be gone and it would be hard to believe he had even existed.
Pushing the gloomy thought away, she glanced at her watch. Almost eight-thirty.
He was probably shaving.
She clambered out of bed and, pulling on her robe, headed for the bathroom. But even before she tapped on the door the utter stillness convinced her that he wasn’t there.
When she opened the door, the two towelling robes hanging side by side and the absence of his clothes confirmed the fact that he was gone.
He must be having breakfast.
But why hadn’t he awakened her so they could breakfast together?
Her heart grew cold.
Had she been mistaken after all? Had Ross—despite his caring words—seen her simply as a one-night stand? A casual bed partner that he felt nothing for?
Turning away, she saw the note on the floor—a small, flimsy page torn from a pocket diary and almost hidden by the quilt. It must have fluttered off the bedside cabinet.
She picked it up with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. Though obviously hurried, the writing was firm and decisive. It said simply:
You were sleeping so soundly it seemed a shame towaken you. Thank you for last night. You were a delight. Mrs Low will explain why I’m having to rush off. Have a safe journey up to Luing, and I’ll see you as soon as I possibly can. Ross.
She hadn’t told him exactly where she was staying, so unless Luing was a very small place how would he find her? She desperately wanted him to. But if he turned up asking for a Miss Richardson, it could cause problems. Oh, if only she had explained about Carl…
But perhaps he hadn’t gone yet. She might be in time to catch him…
She showered quickly, brushed her hair and coiled it neatly, then, having put on fresh undies and the fine wool suit she’d worn the previous day, she hurried along to the breakfast room.
But it was empty apart from an elderly couple who were just on the point of leaving.
As they exchanged a civil good morning, Mrs Low came busily in.
‘Ah, there you are, Miss Richardson,’ she exclaimed. ‘Perfect timing. Mr Dalgowan said if you weren’t down for breakfast by nine o’clock I was to call you.’
‘Has he gone?’
‘Oh, yes, he left before five-thirty. I was barely up myself. I understand he’d had a phone call from home in the early hours of the morning to say there was some kind of emergency…’
It must have been the phone ringing that had started her off dreaming, Cathy realized, and sighed. If only she had awakened properly and been able to talk to him before he left.
But Mrs Low was going on. ‘The poor man didn’t even stop for a bite to eat, he just swallowed a cup of coffee and went, saying he’d be sure to see you as soon as may be. Luckily a warm front followed the blizzard through, so instead of freezing the snow has turned to slush, which means the main roads should be clear.
‘Now, what would you like for breakfast? We’ve bacon and eggs, or a pair of nice kippers?’
A mixture of excitement and apprehension over what the day might bring robbing her of her appetite, she said, ‘Just coffee, please.’
‘Well, if you’re sure?’
‘Quite sure, thanks.’
When Mrs Low had gone, Cathy walked to the window and looked out.
Though the garden was still mostly covered with white there were several dark patches where the snow had already gone, and the trees and bushes were bare and dripping.
As Mrs Low had said, the main roads should be clear, so Ross would be well on his way home by now. But where was home?
Though he’d talked about being born on the edge of the Cairngorms and had said he knew Luing well, he hadn’t told her exactly where he lived. So there was no way she could get in touch with him.
Once again she wished fervently that she had explained about Carl. But she hadn’t. And now it was too late.
When her coffee arrived, Cathy said, ‘I’d like to make a start as soon as possible, so if you can let me have the bill?’
‘Mr Dalgowan took care of that,’ Mrs Low told her. ‘He’s a fine young man, good-looking and generous to a fault…’
‘How well do you know him?’ Cathy asked.
‘He stayed here in the autumn when his car broke down. Charlie and he got talking and discovered they had some mutual friends. He promised to call in and see us next time he was passing.’
‘Do you know exactly where he lives?’
Looking
