The Journey Home

“Nothing much to tell. I met her in the glen. She almost got herself shot. Should have been paying more attention.”

“Are you telling me someone almost shot India?”

“I’m telling you I almost shot India.”

“What on earth would you want to do that for?” She frowned blankly.

“Jeez, Chlo, it was a mistake, dammit.” It irritated him even to think about it.

“Golly. What on earth did you do? What did she do?” Her bright blue eyes sparkled, rampant with curiosity, her romantic streak clearly at work.

“Threw her on the ground and raped her,” he replied sarcastically.

“Don’t be so rotten-tempered. Tell me the truth. I’ll bet she was livid.”

“She was—told me to get lost, said I was trespassing.”

“That’s India for you. Very much the grande dame when she sets her mind to it. Go on,” she egged, her sadness momentarily swept aside.

“You’re too darn nosy.”

“No I’m not, I’m a journalist,” Chloë replied with dignity. “It’s my business to acquire information and relay it truthfully to the public.”

“Chlo, you’re a society gossip columnist, for goodness’ sake. Next, you’ll even have me believing you.”

She ignored him and frowned. “So India left in a huff, I suppose, and then what?”

“And then she fainted, and I took her back home. How’s that?”

“India, fainting?” Chloë shook her head in amazement, then said sadly, “It’s probably due to all the strain she’s going through, poor darling. But isn’t she gorgeous?”

Of course she was, Jack acknowledged privately, but he was darned if he was about to admit it. “She’s okay,” he replied casually. “Not my type though, so don’t start scheming. I don’t need complications in my life now—or ever, for that matter. I’m fine the way I am,” he said, pushing back his chair with a shove. For some reason, he didn’t want to talk about the moments he’d spent with India—he was still trying to figure them out for himself.

“Poor, darling Indy. I can’t believe you don’t think Indy’s gorgeous, all men do. She keeps them at arm’s length, though.”

“What’s she doing with a best friend like you then?” he asked, taunting.

Chloë eyed him darkly and shook a finger at him. “Now I know why you’re not married. Nobody could stand that obnoxious streak of yours. I’m getting myself another drink.”

Jack grinned in response and gazed into the fire while Chloë poured herself a generous gin and tonic. He felt good at Dalkirk. It was perhaps less perfect in style than Dunbar, the house having been added to over the years with more attention paid to comfort than aesthetics, but it was very homey. There were lots of nooks and crannies where the little Kinnaird girls loved to play hide-and-seek. Diana’s presence and good taste could be felt throughout in the small details, like the bowls of heather-scented potpourri or a small vase of flowers on a Chippendale table.

The house was just untidy enough to feel truly at ease in. Not like the penthouse, he realized gloomily, where everything stood dusted to perfection on the gleaming marble floors and glass shelves. He’d bought it for its spectacular view, its proximity to his office and because it was a great real estate opportunity. But a house was a house, he reflected, feeling suddenly nostalgic.

Scotland seemed to have carved a special niche in his heart, and ever since that first spontaneous visit, he’d become a regular guest here. Dalkirk was the closest thing to a home he’d known in years, for the Kinnairds had adopted him as part of the family, with Chloë teasing in a sisterly fashion and Diana hovering, her maternal instincts aroused.

As he watched Chloë climb back into the large leather sofa, curling her small legs beneath her, he realized how much he’d truly come to care for them all.

“A penny for ’em,” Chloë said, watching him closely from under her thick dark lashes.

“Just thinking about you Kinnairds. You’ve been real friends to me,” he said, pulling on the cigar.

“Jack, darling, we adore you. The old place wouldn’t be the same without you!” She lifted her glass, smiling at him affectionately. “And I have someone to tease whenever I come home. Anyway, why wouldn’t we be real friends?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Most people only invite me to their homes when they want something. They can’t cut straight to the chase, so they go through the BS of having me to their home, wining and dining me, before getting to the point. But the first time Peter invited me here, he genuinely wanted me to come, and I felt it. You guys have made me feel at home ever since.”

“Well, you are rather a decent chap. If you weren’t so odiously overbearing, I’d have a go at you myself,” she said teasingly.

“Forget it. I’m a rolling stone.”

“You pretend to be but I don’t believe you are at heart. You can be quite sweet at times, when you want,” she added perceptively.

“Chloë, give me a break. I’ve had a long day. I only got back from Dunbar a couple of hours ago. Serena drove me.”

“What, that horrible creature?”

“No shit!”

“Swear away, don’t worry about me!” Chloë said blithely. “Though I agree with you about Serena. Behind all that elegance and class, India’s a very lovely, sensitive person. And a lot of fun, too, when she wants,” she continued as though the subject hadn’t changed.

“She seems to know her business back to front.”

“We have been observant, haven’t we?” she teased. “What was Serena doing there anyway? Getting ready for the spoils, no doubt.”

“Looks like it. Apparently she’s inherited Dunbar.”

“That’s very possible. Lady El may have left it to her. Maybe she thought Serena might as well have Dunbar. After all, Indy’s never really been attached to the place. I’ll go over early tomorrow to give her moral support. She’ll need it with Serena around. By the way, that brings something to mind,” she said, a mischievous grin replacing the sad look of seconds earlier. “What happened that night at the party in September? I saw the two of you slipping upstairs.”

“That’s none of your business. I will only say that it was a regrettable incident that I’m not proud of. Anyway, a nice girl like you shouldn’t be talking these things over with guys.”

“It’s not guys, it’s only you,” she said disdainfully.

“Thanks a lot. Just don’t you start opening your big mouth to Peter and Di.”

“Promise.” She crossed her heart, looking pensive all of a sudden. Jack watched as her eyes turned misty, and she gazed into the flames.

“New man in your life, Chlo?”

“How did you know?” she exclaimed, almost spilling her drink.

“It’s written all over you.”

“Jack,” she said, eyeing him seriously, “I think this time it’s the real thing.”

“Shoot.”

“He’s…different, you know, not like the other chaps I meet.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “That’s what you said about the last three.”