“Okay, so where is she?” Grant asked, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned his backside against a counter. And then he thought about the damnable date with Archibald.
“You wanted her gone,” Enrick said. “Whatever you said worked.”
Grant felt sick to his stomach. “What do you mean she’s gone? You mean, just for a few hours. Right? Her bags are still here. Aren’t they?”
“We didn’t look. She didn’t say anything to anyone. Just got in her car and drove off late this morning,” Enrick said. “I didn’t know if she’d already packed or what. She didn’t have breakfast with us or anything. I don’t know when she got up. Maybe as late as you? What happened last night?”
Grant glanced at Maynard.
“I told them about the steak, but I don’t know about anything else,” Maynard said, shrugging.
“Lachlan, check and see if her bags are still here,” Grant said, not liking how shaken up he felt.
“Aye.” Lachlan gave Enrick a look that said he wasn’t sure what was going on.
Grant had wanted her to leave, but not like this. Not if she was upset about her father’s deceitfulness and the fact that she missed seeing her grandmother before she died. That scenario was a little too harsh for the lass to deal with on her own, without someone to help ease her through it. And certainly not if she had taken off to be with Archibald and he was there to soothe her.
“Enrick, learn which direction she headed,” Grant said.
Enrick shook his head. “Ian and his brothers warned us that you would have more trouble than you bargained for.” He hurried out of the kitchen.
Grant scowled at Maynard, who quickly went back to preparing Grant’s breakfast.
***
Colleen didn’t know where to go, but she had to get away from the castle. Away from everyone who must have known about her father and grandmother when she hadn’t had a clue. She felt awful that her grandmother had wanted so much to get in touch with her and hadn’t been able to.
All the pictures, the album full of them, and the most recent photo of Colleen framed on her grandmother’s wall proved her grandmother hadn’t forsaken her. Thinking of the way her grandmother had preserved the little girl’s room for the granddaughter she’d never meet added to Colleen’s distress. She had to get away.
She brushed away more tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t want anyone to see how much this affected her. Did they think she had anything to do with not reaching out to her grandmother? That she had shunned her like her father had?
They must have thought she was unkind and unfeeling.
She drove forever it seemed, passing isolated farms, seeing a few shaggy Highland cows in fenced-in pastures and black-faced sheep nibbling on shorn green grass on the sides of hills. When she arrived at a village, she slowed down and saw gray stone homes, two bed and breakfasts, an inn, and Kelton’s Pub. She was not a drinker, not like her father had been. But she’d driven for miles, didn’t know where she was, and needed to get a bite to eat and something to drink. She’d missed breakfast, and she hadn’t eaten much dinner the night before, not with Grant scowling because she was making him sleep in the White Room. She was hungry.
She parked and entered the rustic-looking pub with its dark bar and wood paneling and dark tables. And stopped dead in her tracks.
Archibald Borthwick was sitting and eating at one of the tables with three men. They were laughing and joking with him. She wished she could turn around and head out before Archibald saw her, especially since she’d turned down a meal with him that he’d wanted to have at a different location—and now here she was alone, looking to have a meal.
She didn’t want to talk to him or anyone else right now. Two of the men with him eyed her, and one spoke to Archibald. He immediately turned to see her. How had they known who she was?
Now she was stuck with dealing with him. She was not a beta and would not tuck tail and run, no matter how much she wanted to avoid having anything to do with him right now.
Archibald practically fell out of his chair to greet her. So different from the way Grant had met her at the castle. Yet with Grant, she felt he was showing his true feelings, whereas with Archibald, she was beginning to suspect something wasn’t quite right. Maybe she’d always felt that way—which was why she’d continually given him excuses and not gone out with him. She was stuck sitting with him now, though, as he showed her to another table away from his buddies.
She offered him a small, insincere smile. Not because he deserved it, but because she was still feeling sad about her grandmother and didn’t feel the least bit cheerful.
“Are you all right, lass? You’re a long way from Farraige Castle.”
“Yeah. I just wanted to take a drive and learn more about what’s in the area.”
He looked skeptically at her, probably because she was alone and a long way from her castle. She’d said she was too tired to go out with him, but now she could go out by herself?
“Did Grant upset you?” Archibald said, sounding angered.
She couldn’t tell if his ire was genuine or a show. “No,” she said, shaking her head.
Archibald still studied her, looking concerned, then waved to a waitress to bring a menu. “Are you going back tonight?”
“No, not tonight.” She needed a break from the castle and Grant and his clan. She hadn’t realized what a strain it would be to act cheery all the time around Grant when he was trying his darnedest to make her want to leave.
Archibald smiled at her. Yeah, he thought he could ply his charm now that she was away from Grant and his protection. She wondered if he would turn her world upside down like Grant could with one smoldering, sexy kiss. If all Highland wolves were capable of such a thing.
“I’m going to check into a B and B and explore more of the countryside tomorrow.” And get a good night’s sleep without having to deal with a monster dog in her bed and rumbling water pipes in Grant’s chamber.
All smiles, Archibald scooted closer to the table. “You’re welcome to stay with me. And I’d be honored to be your tour guide.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no, I’m fine.” She would love to have someone drive her around and tell her the history of the area. But not Archibald. She was certain that the more she saw of him, the more he’d think he had an in with her. And the more she thought his story about the friend arriving at the airport might have been just that—a story.