“She deserves to be treated like a queen, and that’s what I’ll do.” If I need to tie her to the bed to do so, I will. “She will be loved. And she has love. Love for me.”
“And we had friendship once,” he replies pointedly.
“Yes. But now we’re family.”
41
Isla
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Oh. Yes.” I blink, staring at Griffin, my half brother. “What are you doing here?” On my front doorstep, suited and booted, he’s dressed for a day in chambers, minus the wig and gown. He does have an official looking leather folio with him, though.
“I realize this is unusual,” he answers gruffly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Awkward, even.”
And then I realize I’m the one being awkward. “No, not at all. Come in.” Pulling the door wider, I gesture him inside. “You’re welcome to visit anytime.” Even if you’ve never visited before and rarely venture from London to the wilds of Scotland.
“How are the kids?” he asks, stepping past me.
“Fine. They’re at school.”
“Right. I guess I should leave some pocket money for them.”
“Should you?” I answer, amused, as I close the door behind him.
“Apparently so.”
“According to Hugh?” I hazard.
“He might’ve mentioned I’ve been lax in my duties as uncle at the wedding.”
“He doesn’t miss a trick,” I murmur, gesturing for Griffin to follow me down the hall.
“A barrister in the making? To follow in his uncle’s footsteps.”
Griffin shrugs. “There are worse careers.”
“You mean like being a duke?”
“Yes.” He smiles tightly, then mutters, “Let’s go with that.”
Odd. “Can I get you a tea or a coffee?” I ask, pointing at the electric kettle on the bureau now that we’re in the dining room. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you much more than that.”
“No, I’m fine,” he answers, holding up a hand. “This isn’t strictly a social visit.” From the kitchen, an unearthly clang sounds. I step back, suddenly worried this bulk of man might end up on my knee like a frightened cat. “What the hell was that?”
“The carpenter.” I give a wan smile. “He is why the contents of my kitchen are in here,” I add, glancing at the absolute mess contained in this room. I really should take the opportunity to go through it all. Throw away the aging dried herbs and spices, some of which probably predate Archie’s birth. “Shall we sit?” I say, pulling out a heavy dining room chair as Griffin does the same.
There’s a saying that’s been floating through my head since we got back: a new broom sweeps clean. But I’m not exactly sure this is what prompted Niko’s thinking when the engineers arrived to install a new heating system last week. Or even when I came home from the school run to find a crew replacing the potholed driveway and building surveyors examining the place. Or even when a truck turned up with pallet upon pallet of gray Scottish slate for the roof.
And then a new bed turned up—one big enough to hold an orgy in.
“A new broom sweeps clean?” I’d said, tapping the bouncy new mattress.
Niko’s arms had slid around my waist, toppling us to the bed. “But an old one knows the corners.”
The corners. The bells. The buttons to touch to make it melt.
“Isla?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking.” The words fall from my mouth. Thinking about something you don’t need to know about. “We’re having a new kitchen installed,” I add as an electric drill whirs. The new/old broom struck again after I’d made some vague comment about how Julia must find the kitchen in his London house a delight to be in. Next thing I know, a London kitchen designer and his crew are crawling all over the place.
Is it a case of wanting to obliterate Tom’s presence? I’m not sure. But it is like having a very active fairy godmother. One you need to watch your words around.
“Is Van about?” Griffin’s glances behind him as though expecting Niko to appear like the earl of hell himself. The devil in a well-cut suit to some, a man with a magic wand to me. And, boy, is it magic. “Did I say something funny?”
“No.” Pressing my fingers to my mouth, I give a tiny shake of my head. “It’s just Niko went to London this morning. He won’t be back until tomorrow. Van, I mean,” I add, finding Griffin’s expression blank. “You should’ve called. I could’ve saved you the journey out here.”
“No, it’s always great to see you,” his mouth says. His posture, however, says this is uncomfortable. “Actually, I’ve come to see you. At Van’s request.”
“Oh?” Pulling the side of my cardigan closer, I ask, “Aren’t you a criminal barrister?” I pull a face. “I know Archie is a little light-fingered where chocolate and treats are concerned, but I think he’ll grow out of it.”