Anne Fraser - Posh Doc Claims His Bride

‘Don’t worry about tea,’ Meagan said. ‘I’m sure you have plenty to be getting on with.’

‘I could do with a cup. I’ve been up most of the night.’ She yawned. ‘Really, you’d be doing me a favour. A chat would stop me conking out. I’ve still got Sunday lunch to prepare.’

Following Jessie into the kitchen at the back of the house, Meagan took a seat at the large oak table that dominated the centre of the room. Black and white tiles patterned the floor and at centre stage stood a double-oven Aga. Meagan waited silently as Jessie bustled about the kitchen, spooning tea into a pot and setting cups out onto a tray. Now that anxiety no longer furrowed her face, Meagan could see that she was very pretty, her curly auburn hair framing a delicate face with large, gentle green eyes.

‘The house is gorgeous. I gather from Rachel you are the cook here.’

Jessie nodded, placing a china cup in front of Meagan and pushing the sugar bowl and milk jug towards her. ‘Effie and I love it. It’s been in the family for generations—and it’s hardly a house, more like a manor really. But the late laird never liked anyone to refer to it as such. He didn’t want the locals to think he thought himself or anyone else in his family above them. Unfortunately, when he died inheritance tax took a fair chunk of the family fortune, and it’s been a bit of a struggle for them to keep the estate running. But it’s a labour of love for Cameron and Simon, rather than a millstone around their necks.’ Her tone softened. ‘Their mother died years ago, when the children were very young, poor souls. So apart from them, there’s myself and Mrs McLeod, the housekeeper—she looks after your cottage too. The rest of the staff come in on a daily basis.’

Meagan was confused. What did Cameron have to do with Grimsay House?

Jessie continued chatting while she poured the tea and buttered some scones. ‘Grimsay House is open to visitors during the summer. It helps make ends meet and we have shooting and fishing parties coming to stay too. We also put on the odd ceilidh in the grand hall as well as an end-of-summer ball, which is actually at the end of the month. All in all it keeps me pretty busy.’

‘Er, Jessie. You mentioned Cameron. Surely you don’t mean Dr Stuart?’

Jessie looked at Meagan keenly. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ She must have seen Meagan’s look of confusion. ‘Cameron—Dr Stuart—being the eldest son, inherited the estate from his father. Our own Dr Stuart is actually Lord Grimsay of Grimsay house.’ Seeing the look of shock on Meagan’s face, she gave a low whistle. ‘You really didn’t know, did you? Well, I guess there is no reason why you should. Cameron keeps the two sides of his life pretty separate. He always wanted to be a doctor. Ever since he was a small boy. But since his father died, he has taken on the responsibilities he inherited. Somehow he manages the two roles.’

Meagan almost choked on her tea. Cameron. A lord! As if it hadn’t been a big enough shock finding out he was her colleague—now this. He hadn’t said anything about it that night, so on top of everything he hadn’t even been honest with her. Was that why he had never contacted her? What would a lord want with a student, a nobody? Hardly a long-term prospect for someone in his position. She hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours and the shocks kept coming.

Meagan’s mind whirled. ‘No, I didn’t know.’ She paused, even more confused. And where did the beautiful Rachel fit in to all of this? Aware that Jessie was looking at her with anticipation, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. ‘But isn’t it unusual for someone in his position to have a career?’

‘Not really. Not up here. The family has always lived as part of the community. Every so often they go to London, and of course they have friends up. But if you knew Cameron, you’d know he isn’t the kind of man to want an idle life. He has to be doing something. Something that really matters.’

Jessie passed Meagan a scone. Meagan bit into one, realising as she did so that she hadn’t had breakfast before Rachel had appeared and was suddenly ravenous. Munching the scone gave her a little time to absorb what Jessie had just told her.

‘These are delicious, Jessie,’ she said. ‘Someone left some pancakes for me at the cottage—were they yours?’

‘Yes. Mrs Macleod and I thought you might like some to welcome you. I bake a batch at least once a day. Apart from the visitors, there is always someone prowling around the kitchen. She stopped, cocking an ear. ‘Speaking of which, that sounds like Cameron.’

Meagan looked around, surprised. Sure enough, Jessie was right. Cameron came into the kitchen, sniffing the air appreciatively. ‘Ha, in the nick of time.’ He reached for one of the scones.

Jessie batted his hand away with a playful tap. ‘No, you don’t. I’ve only just made enough for this afternoon. I only gave Dr Galbraith one seeing as she was kind enough to give up her free morning to come and see Effie.’

‘And how is Effie?’ Cameron asked. He waited until Jessie had turned to fill the kettle again before filching a scone.

‘She’s fine,’ Meagan answered. ‘Just an upset tummy. I’ve recommended a day in bed. I expect she’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

‘Rachel’s keeping her company while I look after Dr Galbraith. I’ll take over in a minute.’

Meagan noticed Cameron’s raised brow at the mention of Rachel’s name.

‘It was either that or she’d have to finish the baking.’ Jessie and Cameron shared a smile.

‘Rachel baking? Never in a month of Sundays.’ He swallowed the last of his scone. ‘I’ll pop in and see Effie, shall I?’ Cameron suggested.

‘Oh, don’t worry. If Dr Galbraith thinks she’s OK then that’s all right by me. If you go up, she’ll start to think there’s something really wrong.’

‘In that case, why don’t I show Meagan around?’

Meagan started. ‘Oh, please. Don’t put yourself to any trouble. I’m sure you have enough to do. I can look around on my own another time—if that’s all right?’ She didn’t know why, but she was loath to be alone with Cameron. She suddenly felt awkward in his presence.

Cameron ignored Meagan’s protest and glanced down at her feet with the air of an expert.

‘Those boots are no use for walking here. There’s a pair of wellingtons in the hall. They belong to Rachel. You look as if you have roughly the same size feet. I’m sure she’ll be happy for you to borrow them.’

Meagan wasn’t sure that Rachel was the kind of woman who was happy to share anything with another woman, even a pair of wellington boots, but as Cameron took hold of her elbow and gently but firmly propelled her out of the kitchen, she decided for the moment at least it was better to take the line of least resistance. There would be time later to show Cameron Stuart she wasn’t a woman who took kindly to being bossed around.

The air smelled of the sea and the sun felt warm on her face as they made their way from the back of the house and headed up the hill. She had tried on Rachel’s wellington boots, but they had proved much too small. Cameron had forced her to try on a pair of his, but just like Goldilocks she had found them much too big. Just when Meagan had thought with a sigh of relief that the walk would have to be abandoned, Cameron had triumphantly produced a pair belonging to one of the farm workers that, while a little large, would do. As Meagan clomped along beside Cameron, she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

She felt the silence between them was awkward. Should she bring up that night they had shared all those years ago? But what would she—could she—say? Perhaps he didn’t want to be reminded of it. Instead, she decided to stay on safer ground.