LITMIR.BIZ

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know any more?

      And even if she was still the same Lotty, how could he tell her that he loved her now? A declaration of love following straight on from the discovery that she was a princess and—what was that phrase Kath Rowland had used?—astronomically wealthy, was hardly likely to be convincing.

      The truth crouched like a boulder low in his belly. Why hadn’t he heeded his own instincts, which had warned him from the first that Lotty was trouble? Instead he had blundered on, forgetting Ella, forgetting the facts, forgetting everything but the smooth warmth of Lotty’s skin, and the sweetness of her mouth, and the insistent pulse of need. And look where it had got him, a fool sitting at his own kitchen table while everything he had thought was true evaporated into nothing.

      Lotty finished washing up and dried her hands on a tea towel. She glanced at Corran and hesitated, but in the end all she said was, ‘I’ll go and ring the palace now.’

      Corran was still sitting at the table, his chest burning, his throat tight with bitterness and anger, when she came back.

      ‘They’re coming to pick me up.’

       ‘Now?’

      She looked out of the window to where the hills glowed in the early evening sun. ‘There’s plenty of light,’ she said.

      Sure enough, the faint purple sky was only just starting to deepen when Corran heard the dull wop-wop-wop of a helicopter overhead. He stood at the front door and watched it touch down perfectly on the gravel he had cleared for Dick Rowland, sending the birds shrieking in outrage from the trees.

      Corran had seen plenty of helicopters in his time, but this one looked alien, sleek and shiny against the backdrop of the hills. It looked wrong.

      The dogs were barking furiously at it. Corran called Meg back with a sharp word, but Lotty had to bend quickly to pick up Pookie, who, undaunted by his small size, was bristling with eagerness to see off the intruders.

      Before the helicopter was settled, officers in dark uniforms had jumped out and were ducking under the still-spinning blades. They came quickly towards the house, guns at the ready, their eyes moving rapidly between him and Lotty. Corran kept his hands in full view. He’d been on operations like this himself, and these officers were professionals. They weren’t taking anything for granted.

      The lead officer spoke briefly to Lotty in French, and she replied in the same language. Presumably she told them that she was under no threat as he gestured to the other men and they all fell back, although they stayed alert.

      ‘I should go,’ said Lotty.

      She ruffled Pookie’s fluffy head and put him on the ground. ‘Be a good d-dog,’ she told him, and Corran could hear the crack in her voice.

      Biting her lip, Lotty stroked Meg’s head and then raised her eyes to Corran’s at last. ‘I’ll never forget my time here,’ she said.

      There was a great weight in his chest, pressing, pressing against his heart, holding him immobile. Unable to speak, Corran managed a stiff nod.

      Lotty inhaled slowly, steadying herself, and then she turned and walked towards the helicopter.

      Oblivious to the atmosphere, Pookie romped after her, head cocked eagerly as he looked up at her in expectation. Lotty stopped, and Pookie stopped too, his absurd tail wagging.

      Corran found his voice. ‘Pookie!’

      Pookie glanced back at him, puzzled, but evidently decided that his place was with Lotty. In the end, Lotty picked up the little dog and carried him back to Corran. When she put Pookie in his arms, Corran saw that her eyes were swimming with tears, and his heart clenched painfully.

      He thought about how hard she’d worked, about the difference she had made.

      He thought about the feel of her, about turning to her in the night and finding her warm and soft and responsive.

      He thought about how much he was going to miss her.

      He thought about how much he loved her, and how he’d left it too late to tell her.

      Now Pookie was whining in his arms and she was walking away once more.

      ‘Lotty—’ he called impulsively.

      She paused, half turned so that she could look at him over her shoulder.

      There ought to be some way to tell her how he felt, but Corran’s mind went blank. All he could think was that she was leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it. ‘Thank you,’

      was all he said in the end. ‘Thank you for everything.’

      Lotty looked at him for a moment, and she jerked her head, just as he had done when he had been unable to speak. Then she turned and walked on to the helicopter, her back very straight. An officer saluted, and they stooped to avoid the whirling propeller blades as he escorted her to the door.

      She climbed in without looking back.

      The rest of the officers followed. The door was pulled shut, the spinning propeller picked up speed and the helicopter lifted into the air. It hung there, ungainly, for a moment, before veering round and heading off down the glen, its shadow skimming over the silver surface of the loch.

      Corran watched it until it receded into a tiny speck and finally disappeared. The birds settled back into the trees, ruffling their feathers. Pookie sighed. Meg lay down and put her nose on her paws. Silence rolled down from the hillsides.

      She was gone.

      Lotty stood at the window of her apartment, looking out over the lake. It was a pretty scene, with sailing boats making the most of the autumn sunshine, and trees along the lakeside turning red and gold, but her heart still ached for the silver loch and the austere hills of Mhoraigh.

      And for the man who belonged there.

      Caro came to stand beside her. She touched Lotty’s arm gently. ‘Have you told your grandmother yet?’

      ‘Not yet, no.’ Lotty mustered a smile. ‘She’s not going to be happy.’

      ‘It’s more important that you’re happy,’ said Caro. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

      ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ It was the only thing Lotty had been sure of since seeing the double line on the strip. ‘I’m having this baby.’

      ‘What about Corran?’

      It had been such a relief when Philippe had brought Caro back to Montluce. Lotty was fiercely glad for their happiness together, even if it did make her own misery more apparent. Caro’s presence changed the whole atmosphere in the palace. There was laughter in the long corridors and even the Dowager Blanche was seen to smile occasionally.

      Reluctant to intrude on Caro’s joy, Lotty kept her grandmother company, and took up her duties once more. Eventually she hoped to be able to pass them on to Caro, but for now Caro was busy planning a wedding at the beginning of December and at least visiting factories and schools and hospitals made Lotty fix on a smile and hold her head up.

      So she smiled and shook hands, moving through the days on automatic pilot, but inside she felt as if she was blundering through a smothering fog of despair. She missed Corran desperately. At night she lay awake, aching for him, remembering him. If she thought about him hard enough, would he feel her? Would he pause and look up from whatever he was doing, sensing that she was dreaming of him?

      Everyone in Montluce was treating her very gently, as if she had been through some traumatic experience. Nobody asked her what she had been doing, or why she had disappeared.

      Only Caro wanted to know about her time at Loch Mhoraigh. Only Caro knew about Corran, and it was to Caro that Lotty went when the consequences of that reckless afternoon in the cottage bathroom, with the sun streaming through the window and the sawdust on the floor, finally caught up with her.

      Blurry with unhappiness, it had taken her longer than it should have done

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