Secret Garden. Cathryn Parry

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СКАЧАТЬ brother? Colin just felt confused. “Why did you call him?”

      “Because you asked about him, sir. And since he is at his company’s Byrne Glennie facility today, and is therefore available locally, he has decided to stop by and speak with you.”

      Colin sat, his hand on his forehead. All he’d wanted was to apologize to Rhiannon. He had the feeling he was missing something important.

      Paul poured tea into a cup. “Cream or sugar?”

      Colin shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t drink tea.” When had this gotten so complicated?

      “Try this, sir.” Paul used a pair of silver tongs to drop a sugar cube into the cup and then added a small amount of cream from a tiny pitcher. He passed Colin the delicate cup and saucer, but Colin just stared at him. He didn’t dare touch the damn thing. What if he dropped it?

      Paul cleared his throat, then placed the cup and saucer back on the tray. Straightening, he said formally, “Mr. MacDowall requested that I serve you tea, as it will be another ten minutes before he arrives.” He turned to leave.

      “Wait,” Colin said.

      Paul turned, his brow raised. Honestly, Colin just hadn’t wanted to be left waiting again.

      “Ah... Malcolm...he’s the CEO of Sage Family Products now?” The major body-care corporation that his mother had talked about. The one that gave endorsements to professional athletes.

      “No, he’s the president,” Paul explained patiently. “Mr. John Sage, Rhiannon’s uncle, is the CEO.”

      * * *

      RHIANNON SAT ON the stairs, observing Colin and Paul. Ironically, she’d curled up near the spot where she and Colin had peeked through a lattice screen. The staircase had been renovated with modern railings, and now a restored tapestry concealed her from view. But there was one threadbare place in the material that she could peer through.

      She’d never expected Colin to return, or to ask to see her. She’d thought she’d scared him away. Part of her had hoped that he would stay away; that would be for the best, after all.

      But then she’d been informed by the guard observing the cameras that Colin was approaching the castle. And now, watching him in person...

      She put her hand to her lips, filled with amusement by his sweet but bumbling reaction to Paul’s stiff formality. Her family hadn’t used the services of a butler all those years ago, and it seemed that Colin wasn’t sure about how to react to this foreign ritual. But he was gamely trying to put himself in Paul’s good graces.

      And what about the funeral he mentioned? She hadn’t been aware of anything happening to his father. Then again, she hadn’t spoken to Jessie in a few weeks. Jamie, either. She’d been wrapped up in finishing her painting.

      “Poor Colin,” she murmured. It must be terrible.

      She was answered with a peeved meow. The cat in her arms had followed along behind her, more dog than catlike in his behavior. She’d been petting him when Paul arrived with the tea cart.

      Now the cat struggled; he knew that the tinkling of china meant fresh cream, and Colin the cat lived for fresh cream. But she normally didn’t let him have much, because he tended to get gassy. Rhiannon stood, intent on sneaking off, carrying her cat back to her painting studio with her, but he jumped down with a loud thud.

      “Colin,” she whispered at him.

      Colin veered from her and darted off on his short legs as best he could—admittedly, not quickly these days—down the staircase, across the tartan carpeting and toward his namesake.

      Rhiannon groaned and covered her head. Below her, Colin the cat sat by Colin the human’s feet. The cat posed in a regal position and begged for cream with his most entitled meow.

      “Colin, stop that!” Paul scolded.

      “Excuse me?” Colin the human said.

      “Colin,” Paul said to the cat, and he bent to pick him up. “You know you don’t belong here,” he admonished her pet in a singsong voice.

      “Wait a minute,” Colin said. “Did you just call that cat by my name?”

      “No,” Paul said stiffly, drawing himself up. “You share a name with Rhiannon’s cat.”

      “Rhiannon’s cat?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Here, pretty baby.” Colin patted his lap, and her cat obliged, jumping up on him. Again, as best he could, given his age. The little devil would attempt anything to poach cream.

      “How old is he?” Colin asked Paul.

      “He’s twenty-one, I believe,” Paul said.

      Colin was silent for a moment. Then he drew his hand along Colin’s fur, petting him. “I never knew about him.” Maybe Rhiannon imagined it, but she thought Colin looked misty-eyed.

      Rhiannon sat again. Colin’s letter was in her pocket. Quietly, she opened the envelope and unfolded the note inside. In a careful hand, he’d written:

      Rhiannon, I’m sorry I offended you this morning. You were once an important friend of mine, and I don’t want to lose that. Please forgive me. Colin.

      Rhiannon touched it lovingly. Oh, what she had wished for—a letter from him—and never thought would happen.

      She’d been utterly shocked when he’d come back this afternoon. Part of her wanted Colin here—but not the part that was in charge. The panic attacks trumped everything, and with them, she could never be normal around him.

      More than anything, she needed her control. To be in charge of herself. Colin threatened that control. It was sad, but that was the way she was. To meet with him would be cruel, for both of them. It was best for everyone that he leave as soon as possible.

      But what about his father’s funeral? She would have to say something about it. She couldn’t just ignore it, or him.

      Just then the castle door opened—Malcolm had arrived, bringing in the smell of the early-summer air. He was dressed in his workday suit, his sunglasses on. Her older brother was a handsome man—always had been—but when Colin stood, the cat still in his arms, he managed to take her breath away.

      Colin had changed clothing since she’d seen him earlier, and now wore khaki trousers and a collared shirt. He was shaven, tall and full of life, and he looked so appealing to her that she all could do was stare at him.

      “Hi, Malcolm. It’s me. It’s Colin.”

      But Malcolm’s jaw tightened. Slowly, he hooked his car keys on a peg beside the wall. “What’s going on?” he asked in his gruff, deep tone.

      Colin’s smile wavered. “My father died,” he said in a low voice.

      Rhiannon put her hand to her mouth. She felt devastated for him.

      Even СКАЧАТЬ