to yank it out of her pocket:
Have you run off with a haggis? What’s the news? I was promised regular gossip updates.
Emma’s texts always made her smile.
24 hours in: two new friends (no, you are NOT dumped), a dog, a gorgeous gamekeeper (don’t worry, married, so out of bounds) and enough
caffeine to send me into orbit.
‘Ow!’
Not looking where she was going, Kate’s ankle gave way as she stepped into a pothole. With a gasp and a yelp of surprise, she and Willow fell sprawling forward into the mud and gravel of
the drive. Somehow she’d managed to avoid squashing Willow, or dropping her, which was fortunate as a car was approaching at speed.
The Land Rover from last night, with the distinctive DE 1 number plate, pulled up in front of her. Kate heard the door hinges creak, and feet crunching towards her.
‘Multitasking isn’t going to be your strong point then, I take it?’
Kate peered up from her landing place. Looking down at her, dark brows in a line of disapproval, was the owner of the voice. Tall, with dark hair flopping forward over his eyes. Green
wellingtons, of course. A pair of rather muddy jeans, a navy-blue jumper, a checked shirt. He held out a hand and hauled a filthy Kate and Willow up from the ground.
Her phone, which had narrowly missed a puddle, beeped indignantly. Her rescuer knelt down and picked it up, glancing at the screen before handing it to Kate with an expression she couldn’t
read.
Don’t go falling madly in love with Sir Roderick of Posh, or whatever he’s called. You’re not Cinderella.
‘Sir Roderick of Posh: your new landlord, employer, and definitely not Prince Charming.’
Fine pieces of gravel were falling gently, like rain, from her hair. Willow was whimpering slightly. Kate was tempted to join in.
‘My friend Emma. I am
so
sorry. Oh God, I’m mortified. I’m so sorry. I mean . . . ’ Kate was blushing furiously and, as ever, was unable to stop herself from
babbling in a crisis.
‘I’ve been called far worse.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘But you’re not in the city now. We don’t walk about with our phones permanently glued to our ears round
here.’
Now he was admonishing her. And this after five years of living with Ian, who could have won an Olympic Gold in making her feel stupid. Her new employer was obviously a pompous git who behaved
in the same way.
‘Come up to the house and I’ll get Jean to take a look at you – that was quite a fall.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Kate. ‘I just need a hot bath.’
‘I’d be happier if you did,’ he said, in a don’t-argue-with-me sort of voice. ‘I need you in one piece. I’ve got plans for you.’ He grabbed a pile of
folders, throwing them onto the back seat of the car. With one word from their master, two sleek black Labradors leapt down from their vantage point on the front seat and were shut behind the
dog-guard rail.
Feeling unable to object, Kate climbed into the Land Rover, trying not to wince. In protecting Willow, she’d fallen awkwardly on her left side, and her shoulder was beginning to ache
badly. She could feel herself trembling slightly, and her teeth were chattering. She clutched onto the puppy for comfort.
Roderick edged the Land Rover round, expertly dodging the potholes on the way to the house. He didn’t speak, giving Kate the chance to survey her new employer with a sideways glance. He
seemed distracted, the frown still fixed in place and a nerve jumping in his cheek.
The Land Rover scrunched to a halt on the driveway. Kate looked up at Duntarvie House for the first time. Actual turrets, like a fairy-tale castle. Not just one, but loads of them. He lived in a
blooming castle – no wonder her new boss seemed a bit snooty. It’d be hard to have any grasp of reality if you lived in a stately home.
The house was beautiful, a perfect example of the Scottish Baronial architecture her dad had loved. He’d taken her to Balmoral as a little girl, patiently
Have you run off with a haggis? What’s the news? I was promised regular gossip updates.
Emma’s texts always made her smile.
24 hours in: two new friends (no, you are NOT dumped), a dog, a gorgeous gamekeeper (don’t worry, married, so out of bounds) and enough
caffeine to send me into orbit.
‘Ow!’
Not looking where she was going, Kate’s ankle gave way as she stepped into a pothole. With a gasp and a yelp of surprise, she and Willow fell sprawling forward into the mud and gravel of
the drive. Somehow she’d managed to avoid squashing Willow, or dropping her, which was fortunate as a car was approaching at speed.
The Land Rover from last night, with the distinctive DE 1 number plate, pulled up in front of her. Kate heard the door hinges creak, and feet crunching towards her.
‘Multitasking isn’t going to be your strong point then, I take it?’
Kate peered up from her landing place. Looking down at her, dark brows in a line of disapproval, was the owner of the voice. Tall, with dark hair flopping forward over his eyes. Green
wellingtons, of course. A pair of rather muddy jeans, a navy-blue jumper, a checked shirt. He held out a hand and hauled a filthy Kate and Willow up from the ground.
Her phone, which had narrowly missed a puddle, beeped indignantly. Her rescuer knelt down and picked it up, glancing at the screen before handing it to Kate with an expression she couldn’t
read.
Don’t go falling madly in love with Sir Roderick of Posh, or whatever he’s called. You’re not Cinderella.
‘Sir Roderick of Posh: your new landlord, employer, and definitely not Prince Charming.’
Fine pieces of gravel were falling gently, like rain, from her hair. Willow was whimpering slightly. Kate was tempted to join in.
‘My friend Emma. I am
so
sorry. Oh God, I’m mortified. I’m so sorry. I mean . . . ’ Kate was blushing furiously and, as ever, was unable to stop herself from
babbling in a crisis.
‘I’ve been called far worse.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘But you’re not in the city now. We don’t walk about with our phones permanently glued to our ears round
here.’
Now he was admonishing her. And this after five years of living with Ian, who could have won an Olympic Gold in making her feel stupid. Her new employer was obviously a pompous git who behaved
in the same way.
‘Come up to the house and I’ll get Jean to take a look at you – that was quite a fall.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Kate. ‘I just need a hot bath.’
‘I’d be happier if you did,’ he said, in a don’t-argue-with-me sort of voice. ‘I need you in one piece. I’ve got plans for you.’ He grabbed a pile of
folders, throwing them onto the back seat of the car. With one word from their master, two sleek black Labradors leapt down from their vantage point on the front seat and were shut behind the
dog-guard rail.
Feeling unable to object, Kate climbed into the Land Rover, trying not to wince. In protecting Willow, she’d fallen awkwardly on her left side, and her shoulder was beginning to ache
badly. She could feel herself trembling slightly, and her teeth were chattering. She clutched onto the puppy for comfort.
Roderick edged the Land Rover round, expertly dodging the potholes on the way to the house. He didn’t speak, giving Kate the chance to survey her new employer with a sideways glance. He
seemed distracted, the frown still fixed in place and a nerve jumping in his cheek.
The Land Rover scrunched to a halt on the driveway. Kate looked up at Duntarvie House for the first time. Actual turrets, like a fairy-tale castle. Not just one, but loads of them. He lived in a
blooming castle – no wonder her new boss seemed a bit snooty. It’d be hard to have any grasp of reality if you lived in a stately home.
The house was beautiful, a perfect example of the Scottish Baronial architecture her dad had loved. He’d taken her to Balmoral as a little girl, patiently
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