(Present Day)

 I’d been in the castle almost three weeks and was starting to acclimate to my new surroundings. The structure was huge, and I still got lost, but thankfully I had Callum with me.

He and I were getting along well. He was a boisterous, vibrant young boy who required much of my attention, but I loved it. Caring for Callum gave my mind something to do, someone else to think about besides myself and my daughter.

I still hadn’t met Mr. Lauchlan. Fiona said he travelled a lot but still I thought it was strange. He was entrusting the care of his child to a complete stranger.

Callum was down for a nap. Normally he’d worn me out and I laid down as well but today my mind was restless. I had so many questions stirring in my mind. Like, why was I even here. I hadn’t heard from Miller (??) since I’d arrived in Scotland. Should I even stay?

Trying to rid my mind of the fear always lurking just under the surface, I chose to walk around the castle rather than rest. If it was going to be my home for the unforeseeable future, I might as well learn the layout.

As I descended the front stairs I was struck again at the grandeur of the castle. The structure was massive and beautiful, steeped with history, most of which I didn’t remember. My head was so foggy I wondered if I’d ever be able to concentrate on anything again.

Rounding the banister, I noticed two closed doors. That was the grand ballroom Fiona had said. She’d never taken me inside on our initial tour. This was as good a place as any to start my own excursion.

I opened one of the massive oak doors and stepped into the cavernous room. The long velvet curtains covering several windows were drawn, but allowed enough light inside that I could make out the details of the room.

I glanced around the room, in awe of the auspicious space. The ballroom was large enough to hold hundreds of people, and probably had. The floor was a beautiful pattern of parquet flooring. My footsteps echoed as I stepped further inside.

Slowly my gaze travelled up. Chandeliers hung the length of the room and intricate patterns of gold and light blue littered the ceiling. 

My gaze travelled to the tops of the windows. There were no coverings I noticed. At the top of each was half-circle stain glass window, their designs intricate and beautiful. The sunlight streaming through cast a kaleidoscope of colors on the wooden floor.

The windows reminded me of my father’s pendant he’d made me. I’d never found the necklace after I left Miller alone at Annmarie’s grave.

Miller.

His name brought a chill through my body and I shuddered.

“What are you doing in here.” A deep voice barked behind me.

I jumped and shrieked, fearing for a moment it might actually be Miller. Slowly I turned and saw a man standing in the open doorway, his large form taking up most of the frame. 

He was tall and broad shouldered with blond hair, wearing what looked like a very tailor-made navy suit—and a menacing glare. Thankfully not Miller. 

The man was scowling, his handsome face marred with the expression as his arms crossed over his chest. His stance was one of intimidation but I wasn’t afraid. All my fears were eclipsed by his mesmerizing eyes. They were sea-green and captivating. I’d never seen a color like that before. It was as if I were staring down the Caribbean sea at fading moss.

His gaze travelled the length of me, his soured expression never changing. He was handsome by anyone’s standards, but his perpetual scowl took away some of his attractiveness. 

“I asked who you are,” he barked again, glaring at me.

I paused for a brief moment as I studied him from head to toe. I refused to be intimidated by a man again. “I’m Callum’s nanny,” I replied, “Laurel.” I stopped, catching myself before I made a misstep, and cleared my throat. “Laurel. Laurel…” I hesitated, trying to remember my new name. “Laurel Jameson.”

“Lauren?” he said, his lip curled in a snarl.

“No.” I said firmly with a bit of agitation myself. “I said Laurel. With an L.” I exaggerated the sound.

“You’re my son’s nanny?”

Oh, crap. So, this was Mr. Lauchlan. Staring at him closer I could see the resemblance.

“I didn’t ask for a nanny,” he said, as if I’d shown up on my own.

I remained silent, having no answer for him myself. I didn’t know why I was here anymore than he did.

He jerked his chin and scrutinized me. “Where are you from?”

“America,” I answered flatly. “Sir.” I added. It wouldn’t hurt for me to be respectful.

“America,” he repeated. “Huh.” He turned and walked away without another word to me. “Fiona,” he shouted. “Fiona!”

If first impressions were any indication, I knew I was in more trouble than I’d ever thought. This man seemed like a complete jerk.

“Where is she?” he said, more to himself.

I followed him down the hallway toward the kitchen. 

Fiona suddenly appeared from nowhere just before we reached the library. “What is it, Anders?”

“Did you hire a nanny?” he asked accusingly.

“Yes.” Her answer was firm but I heard a touch of weariness in her voice. “You said you wanted a nanny to be with Callum because you would be travelling more extensively now. Remember?” 

The man glanced up at the ceiling as if trying to remember.

“It was Roddy’s idea,” she said, “but I told you I thought it was a good one.”

Roddy? Who was Roddy?

He remained silent, so Fiona continued. “I said I was getting too old to properly care for the lad now that he was growing older and faster, roaming about the castle and grounds more.”

Mr. Lauchlan nodded, rubbing his temples with one hand as his head fell to his chest. “Oh yes, I remember, it all makes sense.” He sounded so resigned and exhausted, as if Fiona had severed his last thread of strength.

He reached out and squeezed Fiona’s shoulder, which surprised me. He didn’t look like an affectionate man.

“Yes,” he repeated, “I remember.” He raised his head, the lines around his green eyes giving him the appearance of being tired and worn. “I’m sorry, you know how busy I am now, I must have forgotten. Thank you, Fiona, I’m sorry I startled you so.”

With his worry eased, his distinctive Scottish accent was clearer, giving his words a melodic tone.

Fiona smiled and nodded. “It’s all right.”

Mr. Lachlan took her into quick embrace.

It was clear through their silent exchange that the two had a close bond.

He whispered something in her ear, and Fiona’s gaze was drawn to mine for a brief moment before averting to the ground. She stepped away and shook her head.

What in the world had he asked her?

Mr. Lachlan turned and glared at me. So apparently the nice man who’d just embraced Fiona was gone, this loathing one returning in his place. 

“Come,” he ordered in a sharp tone, jerking his head. “We’re going to the study to talk.”

Talk?

He briskly walked past me and headed down the hallway to the back of the castle.

I turned to follow him but looked over my shoulder at Fiona for help.

She shrugged and grinned. “Go.” She said quietly. “You’ll be fine.”

Her words weren’t as reassuring as I’d hoped but I followed Mr. Lauchlan anyway.

As we made our way down the hallway, suddenly I was overcome with anxiety. He was going to question me, about my past. And he could never know the truth. I had to collect my thoughts and get my story straight if I were ever going to survive.

We passed by a side hallway that I remembered had a small bathroom. “Excuse me, I need to stop into the restroom for just a moment,” I said, turning before he could stop me. “I’ll be right there.”

I ducked into the room and closed the door, closing the lid to the toilet and sitting.

Think Laurel. You can do this.

I practiced what I’d been told, repeating the story over and over in my head as I’d done on my long trip here.

“Your name is Laurel Jameson, your name is Laurel Jameson,” I repeated quietly. “You’re from San Francisco, California. You’re a recent graduate of a master’s program from Everest College studying child development. You were a teacher for two years before going back to school. You decided to travel a little before going back into the education field. You love children and look forward to this opportunity to work with Callum.” I recited the words as they’d been told to me. “You can do this. You can—”

A loud knock on the door made me jump. 

“Is everything all right?” Mr. Lauchlan asked.

How long had I been in here?

“Yes,” I said, “I’ll be right out.”

I was going to totally screw this up. And others would suffer.

I stood and splashed water on my face. Reaching over for a hand towel, I wiped my skin dry and studied myself in the mirror. “You can do this,” I whispered. “You have to.” Drawing in several deep breaths, I opened the door, surprised to see him standing just a foot away.

He surveyed me from head to toe. “Are you all right?” he asked, sounding sincere.

I took a step back into the bathroom. “Yes,” I placed a hand on my stomach, “I think I’m still getting used to the Scottish food.” I laughed nervously.

He tilted his head, his brow wrinkling as if he didn’t believe a word I said. That made two of us.

He gazed down at my hand, still covering my mid-section. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” He chuckled.

His words hit me like a wrecking ball. Pregnant. My vision blurred and my head spun as darkness crept in. I felt my legs give out. Oh, no, I couldn’t be passing out again. Before I could stop myself, the shadows overtook me, dragging me down into the nightmare once again.