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somewhere better.’

Riona shook her head. ‘It’l do me. It’s no worse than the crofthouse.’

‘No, I don’t suppose so,’ Cameron agreed, and for a moment their eyes met and held, thinking the same thoughts, remembering a time when neither

cared nor even noticed the dilapidated state of her crofthouse. They’d been too absorbed in each other.

Riona felt her heart gripped painful y tight for a moment, and she dropped her eyes away. She sat down on the bed and laid Rory on the quilt cover.

‘Anyway, I’l be al right,’ she ran on, ‘so if you want to go back and join your family, I don’t mind.’

‘Not particularly—’ he pul ed a face ‘—but I suppose I’l have to face the third degree some time... At least we seem to have pleased my father,’ he added ironical y.

Riona remembered the older man’s delight and felt guilty. ‘Yes, wel ... don’t you think you should tel him the truth?’

‘And which truth would that be?’ Cameron enquired on a sardonic note.

‘That we’re not planning on staying married,’ she reminded him heavily. ‘That we’re simply doing it for Rory’s sake.’

He shook his head. ‘The agreement was we marry and at least pretend to the outside world to make a go of it.’

‘To the people in Invergair, yes,’ she agreed, ‘but surely you don’t want to deceive your family?’

‘I know my father. He wil prefer to believe I’m settling down for real, even if it’s only for six months. My stepmother, she won’t care either way.’

‘And Melissa?’ Riona couldn’t help slipping the girl’s name in, watching for a reaction.

‘Melissa?’ His eyes narrowed on her, questioning what she knew and what she didn’t. ‘Why should it be of interest to Melissa?’

Riona’s lips thinned. Did he think he had to hide his relationship with his stepsister from her? Did he imagine she’d react with the same spiteful

jealousy?

‘Did Mel say anything to you?’ he queried at her silence.

‘When?’ Riona responded, deliberately obtuse.

‘Earlier, when the rest of us went out to Rory,’ he stated impatiently.

‘Oh, you know, just girl talk,’ she answered with aggravating vagueness.

He scowled, before suggesting coldly, ‘I wouldn’t take too much notice of what Mel says. In fact, if you’re wise, you’l stay out of her way.’

Riona had no intention of furthering her acquaintance with his malicious stepsister, but she was sure his advice didn’t come from any desire to

protect
her.
Rather he wanted to keep the two women apart for his own reasons—like the fact, maybe, that Melissa was right—that, given a choice, he would have been walking down the aisle with the American girl, and maybe stil planned such a future.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t spoil things for you,’ Riona responded dourly, and drew a frown for her trouble.

But he chose not to chal enge the remark and instead said, ‘Right, I’l go down now. Leave you to change.’

‘Change?’ Riona echoed.

‘For dinner,’ he reminded her.

She gave a short laugh. Back on his own home territory, he seemed to have forgotten the reality of hers.

‘Change into what?’ She glanced down at her plain cotton shirt and skirt. ‘Our luggage isn’t here yet and, anyway, I’m already wearing my best.’

He looked over her crumpled clothing, and clearly found her wanting. Last summer he had never noticed, or, at least, never cared what she wore.

‘I should have realised,’ he muttered now, ‘taken you to a few shops when we were in London.’

Riona shrugged. It didn’t bother her. She didn’t want him dressing her up to fit in with his lifestyle.

She said, ‘It doesn’t matter. The truth is I’d prefer to dine up here.’

Perhaps he heard the weariness in her voice, because he didn’t argue. ‘Yeah, OK, I suppose I could plead jet-lag on your behalf and get something

sent up here tonight,’ he conceded.

‘Fine,’ she accepted shortly.

She managed to sound tough and uncaring, while inside she already felt the terrible loneliness that would be hers for the next six months. She kept her face blank of expression, rather than betray any weakness.

‘Nothing ever fazes you, does it, Riona?’ Cameron remarked with reluctant admiration. ‘Nothing ever real y touches you.’

If he wanted to think that, Riona didn’t mind. She wasn’t about to tel him that his leaving last summer had more than fazed her, more than touched her. It had left her heart breaking.

She remained silent, and picked up Rory from the bed. He was beginning to become fretful, making familiar hungry sounds. She directed an impatient

look at Cameron, wil ing him gone.

He caught it, and, with a mutter of, ‘I’l have some dinner sent up,’ went out the way they’d come in, through the nursery.

When he’d left, Riona unbuttoned her blouse and put the baby to her breast. He fed contentedly, his eyes gazing up at her in perfect love and trust.

She kissed his soft forehead, and reminded herself it was to secure his future she was here, but even Rory in her arms couldn’t dispel her sense of being alone.

Sadness crept over her, and she barely heard a knock on the corridor door. By the time she cal ed, ‘No, don’t—’ the door had already opened and

her visitor was standing on the threshold. It was Cameron returned, and her first emotion was relief that it had been no one else.

Relief, however, gave away to embarrassment, as Cameron’s eyes went from her face to the breast on which his son was feeding. She would have

covered herself, but she had nothing to cover herself with, and to abruptly stop the feed would distress Rory. So she sat where she was, nursing her baby, and hoped Cameron would respect her privacy and leave.

Instead he shut the door behind him, and continued to stare at her and his son, and this special bond between them. On another man, the look on his face might have been wonder at the first sight of his woman breastfeeding their child. On Cameron, who knew what thoughts lay behind his steady blue gaze?

He stood there watching, as if he had every right to, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, until the baby eventual y fel asleep on the breast, and Riona gently detached him, and, laying him down on the bed, re-buttoned her clothes.

‘I didn’t realise you were feeding him yourself,’ Cameron said, stil in no hurry to leave.

She nodded. ‘It’s best, when they’re very young,’ she stated factual y, before picking Rory up and carrying him through to the nursery.

Cameron watched from the doorway as she settled Rory in the cot. The baby snuffled a little, but remained asleep. Riona switched on a smal night-

light before backing quietly out of the room.

Cameron remained where he was, and Riona put some space between them by crossing to the window.

‘I came back to ask you what Rory would need in the way of food,’ he explained his own reappearance, then, with the trace of a smile, added, ‘but I can see you have that under control.’

‘Yes.’ For some reason Riona chose that moment to blush like a rose.

She lowered her head, hoping the curtain of her blonde hair might hide it, but he saw, and, more, saw deep inside her. ‘You’re stil just a kid, Ree, aren’t you?’ His voice and manner softened. ‘You might have a smart mouth and a hard head, and a baby at your breast, but, underneath, you’l stil the tomboy kid I met last year on the road to Invergair.’

‘No, I’m not!’ she denied automatical y, then childishly snapped, ‘And don’t cal me Ree! I hate it.’

‘You never said.’ It was the pet name he had used for her from their first night together. ‘But then you never said a lot of things, did you? Like you weren’t the virgin I took you for... Did you think I’d have cared?’ he demanded, his voice harshening.

‘I don’t know.’ Riona couldn’t explain why she hadn’t told him, and she didn’t want to go over it now. ‘Does it matter? It’s past. Forgotten...’

‘Not by me it isn’t.’ His eyes reflected the bitterness he felt. ‘Part of me wanted you and had to have you, but another part felt as if I was spoiling something perfect. I promised you the earth to make up for it, and al the time you were leading me on. Al the time you were just keeping it warm for your sailor boy.’

‘I... that’s disgusting!’ Riona hissed back. ‘It wasn’t like that. I didn’t know Fergus was going to turn up—’

‘You think that makes it better? You let him sail right back into port, didn’t you?’ he accused crudely.

‘That’s not true!’ Riona’s fingers curled into the palms of her hands. ‘You’ve twisted everything. If you’d just come and asked me about Fergus,

instead of
spying
on me—’

‘Oh, yeah, I could have asked you,’ he echoed with a rancorous laugh. ‘And what convincing little story would you have made up? Don’t tel me, he

had to stay because he missed his last bus home.’

He said it knowing there was no local bus service in the Invergair area. The truth, however, wasn’t so far from his mockery. Fergus had stayed

because it was too late to go home to his parents’ house.

Riona saw there would be no point in trying to explain this to Cameron. He didn’t want to listen. He wanted to believe the worst of her. It made her want to hurt him back.

‘You know your trouble, Mr Bigshot Adams?’ she sneered in reply. ‘You can’t stand the thought that I might have preferred Fergus to you. Despite

your money and your flash car, I chose Fergus, and that sticks in your throat,’ she said, damning herself forever, not caring, glad that he looked crippled by her words.

He responded in a growl, ‘Wel , neither of us got what we wanted in the end, did we? Tel me, what happened to sailor boy? Couldn’t he take it

when you had
my
bastard, not his?’

‘Don’t cal Rory a bastard!’ Riona cried back.

‘Why? It’s you who made him one,’ he accused with hard contempt.

Riona flinched visibly, accepting the truth of what he’d said. If she’d taken his advice, there would have been no baby.

They stared at each other for a moment, the worst kind of enemies—the kind who had once been lovers-then he crossed to the door and departed

without another word.

Riona continued to stare after him, anger dissipating, giving way to despair. Their brief love had turned into such a bitter thing. The only part of it left was Rory.

She went back through to the nursery and looked down at her sleeping baby and questioned if she real y wanted him to bear the name of a man who

hated her so much, wondered if she could stand pain like this inflicted daily. Then she thought once more of the hil s of Invergair, purple with heather, yel ow with bracken, wild in their grand beauty, and asked herself if she could do anything else. She could turn down such a prize for herself, but for her son?

She thought of what she had to offer. Love... love and nothing. A home with damp wal s. A future on state benefits. Half a name as the laird’s

bastard child.

‘I can do it,’ she reassured the sleeping baby and herself. ‘It’s me he wants to hurt, not you. If I can just get through it, he’l give you everything.’

Riona didn’t question that he would, for, despite everything, she stil trusted the sense of honour and pride that were an essential part of Cameron’s make-up. He had promised Invergair to Rory, and he would live up to that promise, if she lived up to hers.

Her mind wandered back to last summer and the gentler, kinder Cameron she would have married without a second thought. Then her mind returned

to the present and the sham of a marriage they were to go through, and she knew that, even without Fergus’s untimely reappearance, they had never been destined to live happily ever after.

She was what she was—a nobody, without the necessary money or sophistication or family name to enter his world as an equal. He was what he

was—too wealthy, too experienced, too everything for the likes of her. And last summer?

Last summer had been only a dream.

CHAPTER SEVEN

RIONA slept fitful y and woke early as usual for Rory’s first feed. She looked out of the window, judging it was going to be a warm day, and

dressed in a light blue denim shirt and colourful cotton skirt that hung cool and loose round her. Then she remained in her room, wondering if someone would come and fetch her.

Eventual y a maid appeared carrying a tray of breakfast things. With her was another girl who introduced herself shyly, ‘I’m Gloria. My mother is

cook here. Mr Adams—young Mr Adams—asked if I would help you with your baby.’

The girl had dark eyes and dark hair, and was what the Americans cal ed Hispanic. She also had a lovely smile that she bestowed on Rory as she

came to crouch on the floor where he was half sitting with a little support from Riona’s leg.

Rory seemed to take to her straight away as she made clucking noises to attract his attention and offered him a finger to clutch hold off.

Riona took to the girl, too, although she said, ‘That’s kind of you, Gloria, but I can pretty wel manage Rory on my own.’

‘Mr Adams wished me to go shopping with you,’ Gloria relayed. ‘He says you need to buy clothes and things for the baby.’

Riona frowned. It was true. Rory had almost grown out of his first size of clothes and she had no pram or push-chair or toys for him. She just wished Cameron had discussed the matter with her first.

‘We’l see.’ Riona smiled at the girl; she had no quarrel with her. ‘I’l speak to Mr Adams.’

She rose and picked up Rory as if to go and do just that, and Gloria said apologetical y, ‘I think he has already gone to work with his father.’

‘Oh.’ Riona looked at her watch; it had just gone eight.

‘Stevens, the chauffeur, is to drive us into Boston,’ Gloria explained, ‘after you’ve had breakfast.’

‘I...’ Riona wanted to object to al these plans being made without her, but she caught the other’s worried look and realised she was being unfair.

Gloria was just a messenger, obeying her employer’s instructions. ‘I— al right,’ Riona surrendered with a sigh, and asked, tongue in cheek, ‘I don’t suppose Mr Adams has told you specifical y where I’m meant to shop?’