The Heir of the Castle. Scarlet Wilson

long? Unlike the Canadians, who appeared to have brought the entire contents of their house with them.

      He ushered her along the platform towards his car, trying not to watch the swing of her hips and shape of her curved backside. Focus. That zing was still bothering him. Callan McGregor didn’t do ‘zings’.

      He waited for the comment—there weren’t many people with a pristine James Bond DB5 in this world. One of the few over-the-top purchases since he’d made his fortune. But she just happily climbed in the front seat and pulled on her seat belt. ‘Do you know much about Angus McLean?’

      He was thrown. He was totally thrown.

      Not only had every other single person made a passing comment on the car, every other single person’s first question had been about the castle—leaving him in no doubt why they were there. They could recognise money at a glance.

      He should have walked away. After the reading of the will he should have left the solicitor’s office and just kept on walking. Walked away from the madness of all this.

      But something deep inside wouldn’t let him. Whether it was a burning curiosity of what would happen next. Whether it was some bizarre desire to actually meet some of Angus McLean’s relatives. Or whether it was some deep-rooted loyalty to the old guy, and some misplaced desire to try and maintain the integrity of the castle.

      He waited until she was settled and then he pulled out of the car park.

      ‘Well?’ She was obviously determined to find out a little more. Her fingers were clenched tightly in her lap, her index fingers rotating around each other over and over. It was the first sign she wasn’t quite as relaxed as she seemed.

      ‘Angus was a good friend.’

      She raised her eyebrows. The sixty-five-year age difference was completely apparent and must be sparking questions in her brain.

      ‘So, you’re not one of his relatives?’ She hesitated. ‘I mean, you’re not one of...my relatives?’ Her voice tailed off and she shook her head with a little half-smile. ‘I can’t get used to the thought of any of this. It was only ever me, my mum and my dad. My dad died ten years ago. I never imagined anything like this would happen. It all seems so unreal—like I’m caught in a dream.’

      ‘Oh, it’s real all right,’ he muttered under his breath. Then he shook his head and gave a woeful smile. This woman really didn’t have a clue how he felt about any of this. ‘I guess the Harry Potter train will do that to you.’

      Her face broke into a wide, dreamy grin. ‘It was fantastic. My secretary booked it for me. I haven’t had a holiday in a while and she obviously knew I would like it.’

      He tried not to let his ears prick straight up. She hadn’t had a holiday in a while. What did that mean? Did she work for some hotshot company that made their employees work one hundred hours a week? Or did she just not have anyone to go home to? His eyes went automatically to her hand, but she’d moved it, jamming her left hand under her thigh and out of his sight.

      ‘How did you meet?’ Her voice cut through his thoughts. Boy, she was persistent. She still hadn’t even mentioned the castle.

      A shadow passed across his face and his lips tightened. ‘I met Angus when I was a small boy. I spent quite a bit of time at Annick Castle.’

      Something flickered across her face—doubtless another question—but something obviously told her to change tack and she let it go.

      ‘So, what’s going to happen this weekend? Are you organising things?’ Did she think he was an employee? Even though he was offended, it was a reasonable assumption. After all, he had picked her up from the station.

      He signalled and turned off the main road, passing some stone columns and an extravagant set of entry gates, and heading down a long, sweeping driveway.

      He shook his head and his words were spoken through gritted teeth. ‘The Murder Mystery Weekend is nothing to do with me. It’s being organised by some outside company.’

      She shook her head. ‘It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard. Is it even legal? Inheritance law isn’t my field of expertise, but I’ve never heard of anything like this in my life.’

      ‘Neither have I.’ The words almost fell out of his mouth. He wasn’t embarrassed to say he’d spent the last week locked in a bitter war of words with Frank. But the solicitor had been unrepentant. He’d tried to talk Angus out of it. He’d talked him through all the legal implications, the challenges that might be brought against the decision. They’d even brought a doctor in to give a statement that Angus was of sound mind as he wrote the will.

      But Angus McLean had been as determined as he always was in life. This was the way he wanted to do things, and nothing, and no one, could change his mind.

      Callan could see Laurie looking around, taking in the impossibly long sweeping road to the castle, and the huge gardens. The car followed the bend in the road and she let out a little gasp, her hand going to her face.

      ‘Oh. Wow.’ Annick Castle was now clearly visible. Rebuilt in the seventeen-hundreds, the impressive building had over sixty rooms and a large drum tower at either side. It was clear the first glimpse of the castle took her breath away.

      But instead of feeling secretly happy and proud, Callan could barely disguise his displeasure. Was she thinking that the castle might be hers after the weekend? The last guests from Canada had immediately asked what rooms were the best and whipped out a portfolio with extensive notes on the property. He’d almost ejected them from the car on the spot.

      But Laurie wasn’t quite so brazen. Or maybe she was just better at hiding it?

      She shook her head, her eyes open in wonder. ‘I just didn’t expect it to be so big.’ She pointed over at the sea wall. ‘I knew it was supposed to be on a cliff top. I guess I just hadn’t really realised how impressive it would be.’ She fumbled in her bag and produced a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. ‘My dad wouldn’t have believed this. He would have thought he was in a dream.’

      For the tiniest second Callan almost felt sorry for her. He knew that three of Angus’s children had died: Laurie’s father, another woman from England and a son who’d lived in Canada. Laurie was an only child, but the son in Canada had three sons and two daughters, and the woman in England had had three children. It took the total number of possible inheritors to twelve. All of whom were now here.

      They pulled up outside the main entrance and Laurie jumped out automatically. ‘I’ll show you to your room and introduce you to the staff,’ Callan said gruffly.

      ‘My room?’ She looked shocked, and then shook her head. ‘Oh, no, I’m not staying here.’ She started to fumble in her bag for her paperwork. ‘My secretary will have booked me in somewhere.’

      Callan was starting to run out of patience. ‘She has—here.’

      Laurie’s chin practically bounced off the driveway. ‘But I thought you’d just brought me here to show me where the castle was.’

      He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s part of the stipulation of the weekend.’ Nothing he had any control over.

      He waited until she’d extricated the crumpled paperwork from her bag and stared at it a few times as if she was still taking all of this in.

      ‘Like I said, come and I’ll introduce you to the staff.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘There’s staff?’

      He frowned. ‘Of course there’s staff. A place like this doesn’t look after itself.’

      That was the trouble with all these people. None of them knew or understood a thing about Annick Castle. None of them appreciated the people who’d spent their life working here. It didn’t matter most of the staff had been left bequests, it was the actual castle that mattered to them—just as it mattered to Callan.

      Laurie was