Page 79 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

Bonnie glared at him, her enraged expression unable to hide the tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He didn’t blame her. ‘It’s true,’ he insisted.

Bonnie peered up at him from underneath her lashes, her expression as wary as a red deer fawn. ‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’ This time he intended to keep it. And as he’d screwed it up royally with Tara, it shouldn’t be hard.

‘Will you keep it?’

‘Yes. Cross my heart and hope to die.’

She continued to eye him suspiciously. ‘You promise never to see her again?’

Cal sighed. ‘You know I can’t do that. She lives at the castle, remember? And she works there, too. I have to see her and speak to her as part of my job. But, on Nana’s life, Tara will just be a friend from now on, and not my girlfriend.’

‘But you do still like her?’

‘Yes, I do,’ he admitted. ‘I like her a lot, but I like you more.’

‘Like? I thought you said you love me.’ She pouted, but there was a glimmer in her eye.

‘Yeah, I do, I suppose. I have to – I’m your father. It kind of goes with the job.’ He gave an overly dramatic sigh.

Bonnie stuck out her tongue, then gazed at him solemnly. ‘I don’t really hate you.’

‘I know.’

‘I was just disappointed in you.’

‘You had every right to be.’ He was disappointed in himself.

He should never have made such a promise to her, despite believing at the time that it would be one he could easily keep.

‘Calan Fraser, I want a word with you,’ Mhairi called.

Cal had been on his way to the castle’s kitchen to grab a coffee, having been unable to face anything first thing this morning. He’d drunk several drams of whisky last night after he’d made peace with Bonnie, to try to drown his sorrows.

Yvaine had been pragmatic when he’d informed her that Bonnie had forgiven him, and he assumed it was because she’d already inflicted enough damage. She’d got what she’d wanted, clearly not caring how much he was hurting. Revenge was definitely a dish best served cold, as far as his ex-wife was concerned.

‘Calan! I said I want a word.’ Mhairi’s tone was imperious. He had no idea what she wanted to speak to him about, but she’d used his full name, which was most unlike her, so it sounded ominous.

Mhairi was seated at her desk, the parlour door open. Her expression was unreadable. ‘Close the door.’

He did as she instructed, then hovered uncertainly, wondering whether he should sit down. Ordinarily he would take a seat without thinking, but not today. He had a feeling he was about to be hauled over the coals for something, but he couldn’t think what.

‘You look awful,’ Mhairi observed.

Calan felt it. ‘Thanks.’

‘Sit down before you fall down.’

‘I’m OK.’

The look she gave him over the top of her spectacles told him she knew he was lying. ‘Have you had any breakfast?’

He shrugged. He hadn’t, but he thought it best not to tell her as she would insist on knowing why and he didn’t want to lie to her. He hadn’t eaten much yesterday either, and the thought of food made him feel sick.

‘A coffee would be good,’ he said, trying to deflect her.

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