heap on her future husband.
When dinner was over and everyone went into the library for drinks and conversation, Caitlin asked her parents to remain behind.
‘There’s something I need to tell you both,’ she said. ‘Something important.’
Penelope shook her head imperceptibly at Caitlin as her glance strayed to her husband. ‘Perhaps now isn’t the best time.’
‘No time will ever be “the best time”,’ Caitlin said firmly. ‘And Dad deserves to know.’
‘Know what?’ he growled. ‘What are you talking about, lassie?’
She took a deep breath, and as quickly and plainly as possible, Caitlin told her parents that she was pregnant, and that the baby’s father was a university professor who was married to someone else. ‘Mum already knows I’m pregnant.’
Archie turned to her. ‘You knew about this, Pen?’ he asked, his voice deceptively calm. ‘And you said nothing?’
‘Caitlin wanted to tell you herself.’
‘Niall’s getting a divorce,’ Caitlin said quickly, ‘and he’s asked me to marry him.’
There was silence after her pronouncement...just before all hell broke loose.
Her father thrust his chair back, overturning it in his anger. ‘D’ye mean to tell me this bastard who’s been carrying on with you – this man who’s got you pregnant - he’s married? And he’s getting rid of his wife for you, a girl half his age, and one of his bloody students, to boot?’ he thundered. ‘Have I got the right of it?’
With the words caught in her throat, Caitlin managed to nod. ‘You make it sound so bad! It’s really not—’
‘Get out.’
Caitlin stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Do ye not ken what I said? Get out of my sight this instant, lass,’ he warned her, his voice low but charged, ‘afore I lose my temper altogether, and throw you out of my house and into the snow on your arse!’
Without another word, Caitlin turned and ran, weeping, from the room.
‘Really, Archie,’ Penelope said evenly, anger plain on her face, ‘was that necessary?’
‘Aye, there’s much worse I might’ve said to her, believe me. The daft girl! Has everyone in this house taken leave of their bloody senses?’
He returned his chair to its rightful place at the table and stalked out.
‘Archie, wait!’ Pen strode after him, determined to finish the conversation, when the phone in the hallway rang.
She hesitated, then picked up the receiver. ‘Hello, Draemar Castle.’
Silence.
‘Who’s there, please?’ she asked with a trace of impatience. ‘Hello?’
There was no answer, just the crackle of a long-distance connection.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘Why do you keep calling here? What is it you want?’
She was about to ring off but something made her stop. A myriad of emotions skimmed her face – hope, doubt, disbelief – as she pressed the phone closer to her ear.
Could it be? After all this time, was it possible...?
‘Is it you?’ Pen whispered, the words catching in her throat. ‘My darling, dearest boy, is that you, Andrew?’
‘So we’re not having a baby, after all.’
In their room that evening, Rhys took Natalie’s news with remarkable calm.
‘No. I’m not pregnant.’
He turned to face her. ‘But how can that be? You took one of those tests, Natalie. It said you were pregnant. You showed me the stick yourself, and the blue line.’
‘I-I don’t know.’ She fidgeted with her collar. ‘I must’ve done something wrong.’
His expression was sardonic. ‘Imagine that.’ He went to the foot of the bed and sat down.
‘Well?’ Natalie asked as she dropped down beside him and eyed him anxiously. ‘Haven’t you anything to say, Rhys?’
‘What is there to say, Natalie? You thought you were pregnant but it was a mistake, and you’re not. End of story.’
‘But how do you...feel, about it? Are you disappointed?’
‘Of course I am. I know I wasn’t very keen in the beginning, but once I got used to the idea of you...of us...having a baby, I liked it. So yes, I’m a bit disappointed.’
‘I’ll make an appointment with Dr MacTavish tomorrow, just to be sure. Oh, Rhys...I was so looking forward to us having this baby.’ She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as tears began to leak out.
He reached an arm out and drew her close against him. ‘It’s not the end of the world. There’s no rush, after all. We’ll just let nature take its course for the next few weeks and see what happens.’
‘You mean – no pills? Whatever happens...happens?’
‘Exactly.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Now that I’ve got used to it, I like the idea of having a son, someone to take the reins and run Dashwood and James one day.’
‘What about a daughter?’ Natalie demanded, and lifted her face to his. ‘I could just as easily have a girl, you know.’
‘Yes, you could. And I’ll love her every bit as much as our son. We could have one of each,’ he pointed out, and leant forward to kiss her. ‘Nothing’s stopping us, Mrs Dashwood-Gordon.’
Natalie kissed him back. ‘No,’ she said huskily as she drew him down beside her, ‘nothing’s stopping us at all, Mr Gordon.’
On Saturday, Helen got a call from the mechanic’s shop. ‘Your car’s ready,’ the male voice on the other end of the phone informed her. ‘We close in ten minutes, and we won’t open again until Monday morning. Can someone bring you in to pick it up then?’
Her heart sank. ‘Yes,’ she managed. ‘Thank you. How much do I owe you?’
He paused, and named a sum nearly as large as a third world country’s budget.
‘Thanks,’ Helen said faintly. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’
She rang off, and her expression was troubled. She didn’t want to leave Draemar yet. She hadn’t filed her exclusive on Dominic and Gemma’s wedding, nor had she gotten the answers she sought in Andrew’s death...and she still wanted to understand why Colm MacKenzie shared a
