LITMIR.BIZ

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said ‘an American’ in a tone of such disgust that Kirsty burst out laughing. ‘You sound as if Americans are some sort of experimental bug,’ she said. ‘Just remember you are one, Susie Douglas.’

      ‘I hardly feel American any more,’ Susie said, sighing. Rose rolled sleepily off Boris, and Susie scooped her baby daughter up to hug her. ‘I have my own little Australian.’

      ‘Half American, half Scottish, born in Australia. But she belongs here.’

      ‘You see, I’m not sure any more,’ Susie said, sighing again. ‘Angus has left me enough to buy a little house and live happily ever after here. But I need to work and there’s not a lot of landscape gardening to be had in Dolphin Bay.’

      ‘There’s me,’ Kirsty said defensively, and Susie smiled.

      ‘You know that counts for a lot. But not everything. I need a job, Kirsty. Rory’s been dead for almost two years. My injuries from the crash are almost completely resolved. I loved caring for Angus, but without him the castle seems empty. The only thing keeping me occupied is the upkeep on the castle and the garden, and once the new earl arrives…’

      ‘When is he arriving?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Susie told her. ‘But the lawyers say they’ve found him and told him he’s inherited. If you were told you’d inherited a title and a fortune, wouldn’t you hotfoot it over here?’

      Kirsty gave a bleak little smile at that. So much sorrow had gone into this fortune, this title…

      ‘I guess I would,’ she admitted.

      ‘Once he arrives there’s nothing for me to do,’ Susie told her, twirling the curls of her almost sleeping daughter.

      ‘Maybe he won’t come,’ Kirsty said, trying not to sound desperate. She wanted her sister to stay so much. ‘Or maybe he’ll want you to stay as caretaker.’

      ‘And leave it earning nothing? What would you do if you inherited this place?’ Susie asked.

      ‘Sell it as a hotel,’ Kirsty said bluntly, and though she added a grimace it was no less than the truth. Angus had built this place when his castle back in Scotland had burned to the ground. The old man’s whim had led him to rebuild here, in this magic place where the climate was so much kinder than Scotland’s. But now…the castle seemed straight out of a fairy tale. It was far too big for a family. Angus had known it could be sold as a hotel, and his intention was surely about to be realised.

      ‘It feels like a home,’ Kirsty added stubbornly, and Susie laughed.

      ‘Right. Fourteen bedrooms, six bathrooms, a banquet hall, a ballroom and me and Rose. Even if you and Jake and the kids and Boris came to live with us, we’d have three bedrooms apiece. It’s crazy to think of staying.’

      ‘But you can’t go back,’ Kirsty said again, and her twin’s face grew solemn.

      ‘I think I must.’

      ‘At least stay and meet the new earl. Maybe he’ll have some ideas rather than selling. Maybe he could employ you to make the garden better.’

      ‘We both know that’s a pipe dream.’

      ‘But you will stay until he gets here. That’s what Angus would have wanted.’

      ‘I miss Angus so much,’ Susie said softly, and her twin moved across to give her a swift hug.

      ‘Oh, love. Of course you do.’

      ‘The new laird might not even grow pumpkins,’ Susie said sadly, and Kirsty had to smile.

      ‘Unforgivable sin!’

      ‘We’ve got the biggest this year,’ Susie said, brightening. ‘Did I tell you, the night before Angus died I snuck into Ben Boyce’s yard and measured his. It’s a tiddler in comparison. Angus died knowing he would definitely win this year’s trophy.’

      ‘There you go,’ Kirsty said stoutly. ‘The new earl just has to collect his pumpkin and take over where Angus left off.’

      ‘The lawyers say he’s some sort of financier. An American financier valuing a prize pumpkin…you have to be kidding.’

      ‘I’m not kidding,’ Kirsty said. ‘You’ll see. He’ll come and he’ll fall for the place and want a caretaker and landscape gardener extraordinaire, and pumpkin pie for dinner for the rest of his life.’

      ‘He won’t.’

      ‘At least wait and see,’ Kirsty begged. ‘Please, Susie. You must give him a chance.’

      ‘Holiday?’ Hamish glared at his secretary in stupefaction. ‘You are joking.’

      ‘I’m not joking. Your holiday starts next week—sir. Oh, by the way, I’m quitting.’

      ‘You’re not making sense.’ Hamish was late for a meeting. He’d been gathering his notes when his unconventional secretary had burst in to tell him her news.

      ‘You’re having three weeks’ holiday starting next week,’ Jodie repeated patiently. ‘And I’m quitting.’

      He gazed at her as he’d gaze at someone with two heads.

      ‘You can’t quit,’ he said weakly, and she grinned.

      ‘Yes, I can. I’m only a temp. I came here two years ago on a two-week agency placing, and no one’s given me a contract.’

      ‘But people don’t just leave—’

      ‘Well, why would they when the money’s brilliant?’ Jodie acknowledged. ‘But have you noticed that people do leave this firm? They start taking time off because they can’t cope. They’re constantly tired. They forget things. They stop being efficient and then they’re bumped. So all I’m doing is leaving before I’m bumped. Why do you think Marjorie retired so young? Listening to you and the girlfriend made me think…’

      ‘Me and Marcia?’

      ‘You and Marcia. She’s as pleased as could be about your new title—she can’t wait to get married so she’ll be Lady Marcia Douglas—but as for agreeing you don’t have time to go see a castle…’

      ‘It’s a fake castle,’ he said faintly.

      ‘A castle is a castle and it sounds cool,’ Jodie declared. ‘Just because it’s not six hundred years old doesn’t mean it’s not a real one. And Marcia’s idea of putting it on the market without seeing it is ridiculous. Anyway, I was talking to Nick, and he said—’

      ‘Nick?’

      ‘My partner,’ she said with exaggerated patience. ‘The man I share my life with. He’s a woodworker. He was a social worker with disadvantaged kids, but the work just wore him out. He loved it but it exhausted him. He’s almost as cute as you, and I talk about him all the time. Not that you listen.’

      Hamish blinked. He hesitated and glanced at his watch. Then he carefully laid his papers on the desk in front of him. Jodie was a great, if unconventional, secretary, and it’d be more efficient to spend a few minutes now persuading her to stay rather than training someone new—

      ‘Don’t do this to me,’ Jodie begged. ‘You’re scheduling me into your morning and I don’t intend to be scheduled. I’m working on changing your life here. Not the next half-hour.’

      ‘Pardon?’

      ‘You see nothing but work,’ she told him. ‘The typing-pool gossip is that you’ve been blighted in love. That explains Marcia but it’s none of my business. All I know is that you’re blinkered. You’ve been given the most fantastic opportunity and you’re throwing it away.’

      Hamish sat down. ‘This is—’

      ‘Impertinent,’ she told him, and beamed. ‘I know. But someone needs to tell you. Nick’s been

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