the
castle, past more closed doors. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Maybe lost in his own thoughts.
“Who was she?” She didn’t want to miss her chance to ask about
his lost love. The right opportunity might never come up again. She already
couldn’t believe that he’d mentioned her, when he seemed so guarded about his
personal life.
The long hallway ended in a stone wall, with stone stairs going
up to the right and down to the left. James went up. “Her name was Catriona.” He
took the stairs two at a time.
Fiona climbed after him. “Sounds Scottish.”
“She was.” He reached the top of the flight of stairs and
disappeared out of sight.
“Was? Did she die?” She assumed she was dead to James, not
really deceased, so his answer caught her by surprise.
“She did. Seventeen years ago this weekend.”
“I’m so sorry.” Emotion slapped her hard. She’d been digging at
him, trying to extract information for her own purposes, and she’d hit upon a
raw vein of pain.
“Why? You didn’t kill her.”
He swung around and his face was dark. “I did.”
She swallowed. Were there ugly truths about James Drummond that
made his fearsome reputation as a businessman seem like child’s play? And she
was all alone in the deserted wing of a remote Scottish castle with him. She
hadn’t even told her friends she was coming. She was sure they’d think she was
crazy and try to talk her out of it, especially if she told them her underhanded
purpose in being James’s guest.
Her gut told her to trust him, though. In fact, it begged her
to throw her arms around him and offer some kind of compassion for what was
obviously a seventeen-year-old emotional burden he still carried with him.
“What happened?” She asked the question softly.
His brow had smoothed and his composure returned. “It was a car
accident.”
“Oh.” Relief swept through her that it was something so
prosaic. “And you were driving?”
“Yes.” He looked up. “How did you know?”
“I guessed. You feel guilty.”
“I am guilty. I should have avoided the accident.”
“Did it happen near here?” She realized she was hugging
herself.
“Just a few miles outside the village.” He shoved a hand
through his hair. She prayed he would tell her more so she didn’t have to ask
any more insensitive-sounding questions. “It was late at night and we were
driving back from a party. I was taking her to her family’s house in town.”
A local girl. That surprised her. For some reason she’d assumed
James would date only women from more predictably glamorous locales. “Had you
known each other long?”
“Our whole lives.” He looked up and inhaled sharply. “We were
both away at boarding school most of the time, of course, but on every holiday
we spent as much time together as we could. Her father was—is—the local doctor,
and he would drop her off here every morning on the way to begin his rounds so
we could spend the day riding or arguing about books.”
“Sounds like you were best friends.”
“Oh, we were, and as we grew into our teenage years we were
more than that.”
“She was your first love.”
“My only love.” He said it quite fast, and she wondered if he
was saying it for the first time. She shivered slightly. A few moments ago
they’d been kissing and holding each other, but now a gulf as wide as the castle
battlements had opened between them. “I did love her.” He was looking out an
opening in the stone wall. They stood on a sort of stone landing between floors,
and the window looked out onto a blanket of lush green fields, dotted with sheep
and ringed by dark, uncultivated hills.
“And that’s why you’ve never been able to love anyone
else?”
He didn’t answer right away, but she saw him frown. “I never
grew that close to anyone else.” He stared out the window. “But maybe I’m
finally ready to move on.”
A cool flush of shock froze her to the spot. Was he telling her
that
castle, past more closed doors. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Maybe lost in his own thoughts.
“Who was she?” She didn’t want to miss her chance to ask about
his lost love. The right opportunity might never come up again. She already
couldn’t believe that he’d mentioned her, when he seemed so guarded about his
personal life.
The long hallway ended in a stone wall, with stone stairs going
up to the right and down to the left. James went up. “Her name was Catriona.” He
took the stairs two at a time.
Fiona climbed after him. “Sounds Scottish.”
“She was.” He reached the top of the flight of stairs and
disappeared out of sight.
“Was? Did she die?” She assumed she was dead to James, not
really deceased, so his answer caught her by surprise.
“She did. Seventeen years ago this weekend.”
“I’m so sorry.” Emotion slapped her hard. She’d been digging at
him, trying to extract information for her own purposes, and she’d hit upon a
raw vein of pain.
“Why? You didn’t kill her.”
He swung around and his face was dark. “I did.”
She swallowed. Were there ugly truths about James Drummond that
made his fearsome reputation as a businessman seem like child’s play? And she
was all alone in the deserted wing of a remote Scottish castle with him. She
hadn’t even told her friends she was coming. She was sure they’d think she was
crazy and try to talk her out of it, especially if she told them her underhanded
purpose in being James’s guest.
Her gut told her to trust him, though. In fact, it begged her
to throw her arms around him and offer some kind of compassion for what was
obviously a seventeen-year-old emotional burden he still carried with him.
“What happened?” She asked the question softly.
His brow had smoothed and his composure returned. “It was a car
accident.”
“Oh.” Relief swept through her that it was something so
prosaic. “And you were driving?”
“Yes.” He looked up. “How did you know?”
“I guessed. You feel guilty.”
“I am guilty. I should have avoided the accident.”
“Did it happen near here?” She realized she was hugging
herself.
“Just a few miles outside the village.” He shoved a hand
through his hair. She prayed he would tell her more so she didn’t have to ask
any more insensitive-sounding questions. “It was late at night and we were
driving back from a party. I was taking her to her family’s house in town.”
A local girl. That surprised her. For some reason she’d assumed
James would date only women from more predictably glamorous locales. “Had you
known each other long?”
“Our whole lives.” He looked up and inhaled sharply. “We were
both away at boarding school most of the time, of course, but on every holiday
we spent as much time together as we could. Her father was—is—the local doctor,
and he would drop her off here every morning on the way to begin his rounds so
we could spend the day riding or arguing about books.”
“Sounds like you were best friends.”
“Oh, we were, and as we grew into our teenage years we were
more than that.”
“She was your first love.”
“My only love.” He said it quite fast, and she wondered if he
was saying it for the first time. She shivered slightly. A few moments ago
they’d been kissing and holding each other, but now a gulf as wide as the castle
battlements had opened between them. “I did love her.” He was looking out an
opening in the stone wall. They stood on a sort of stone landing between floors,
and the window looked out onto a blanket of lush green fields, dotted with sheep
and ringed by dark, uncultivated hills.
“And that’s why you’ve never been able to love anyone
else?”
He didn’t answer right away, but she saw him frown. “I never
grew that close to anyone else.” He stared out the window. “But maybe I’m
finally ready to move on.”
A cool flush of shock froze her to the spot. Was he telling her
that
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