CHAPTER THREE

SERENA DROVE BACK to her aunt’s house, a cold kernel of disquiet forming in the pit of her stomach. That hadn’t gone at all as she’d hoped. She’d thought coming back to Skye to oversee the continued growth of the MacDonald Guest House would be a way to utilize her long-buried business skills, as well as a pleasant diversion from days that would otherwise be spent with household chores.

And yet she’d barely set foot in the hotel before Malcolm Blake had taken a dislike to her, greeting her with distrust if not outright hostility. What had she done to earn such a harsh reception?

The familiar sick feeling of worry washed over her as she began to catalog their interactions before she cut it off. No, this was not her fault. She had made a mistake with the booking system, but she’d done nothing to incite the level of ire he’d shown. The problem wasn’t her; it was him.

And that problem was a big one. His surliness immediately put her back into a frame of mind she’d worked hard to break out of. Not to mention the little fact of her physical reaction to him. Even remembering how he’d inadvertently pressed up against her sent another shiver of anticipation through her.

Malcolm Blake might despise her, but she’d noticed him looking her over with far more interest than was proper to show toward one’s boss. And she’d brought it on herself, simply because of her involuntary response to the scent of masculine cologne mixed with leather.

Nice one, Serena. The fact that he’s good-looking and smells amazing doesn’t mitigate the fact that he’s a miserable git.

She pulled up in front of her aunt’s house, a simple clapboard structure painted in soothing tones of white and gray, and slammed the gear lever into first before she turned off the car. The front door opened, and Max raced out at full tilt. She jumped from the car and caught him just as he sprang at her, then hoisted him onto her hip. He wrapped his arms and legs around her and smacked a wet kiss on her cheek. “Hi, Mummy.”

“Hi, monkey! Did you have a good day with Auntie?”

“Mmm-hmm. We had shape sandwiches.”

She shifted her son as she retrieved her handbag from the car, then nudged the door shut with her leg. Max was only three, but he was getting heavy. Adjusting her grip again, she trudged up the macadam walkway to the front door. “Shape sandwiches, huh? With cookie cutters?”

“Yes. I had a dinosaur. Em did hearts.”

“Very nice. Auntie is a fun babysitter, isn’t she?”

“Mmm-hmm. She gave us caramels too.”

Serena chuckled and planted a kiss on top of his messy hair before she let him down on the front stoop. When she pushed the door open, the delicious smell of roasting meat drifted from the kitchen. She inhaled deeply. No matter how infrequently they came back to Serena’s childhood residence, it always felt like home: the floral upholstery, the antique lace curtains, the scent of cooking food. It was as though time never passed in Muriel’s presence.

“Mum, you’re back!” Em looked from her spot on the sofa, where she was curled up with a thick book. “How’s the hotel?”

“Fine.” Serena perched on the edge of the sofa and gave her daughter a sideways hug. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, Auntie let us collect sea glass and shells down by the water until it got too cold. And then Max and I helped with dinner.”

“It smells delicious. I can’t wait. Where is she?”

“I’m in here, dear,” Muriel called from the kitchen. She appeared at the doorway, wearing trousers and a silky blouse, her silvery hair as perfectly coiffed as ever. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and accepted Serena’s kiss on the cheek.

“Were the children good for you?” Serena asked, casting a mock-warning look at her kids, who donned Who, me? expressions in response.

“They were perfect angels.” Muriel winked in their direction, and they grinned as if they were getting away with something. Serena’s heart swelled. She’d hoped that the warm, homey atmosphere on Skye would be good for them, but she’d forgotten how much she herself had missed Muriel. Impulsively she reached out and hugged her.

“What was that for, dear?”

“I missed you, and I’m really happy to be back.”

Muriel suppressed a smile. “Well. It’s nice to have you back too. I could use some help in the kitchen. Come, child.”

Serena’s brow furrowed, but she followed obediently. Muriel never needed help in the kitchen. In fact, she was the one who had taught Jamie to cook as a boy, and she was almost as good as he was, which was why she normally waved everyone out of her way into other parts of the house. Clearly there was something on her mind.

“I had a little talk with Em today.” Muriel retrieved two mugs from the cupboard and poured already-brewed tea into both of them. “Why didn’t you tell me she was expelled?”

Serena deflated. She should have told Muriel the real reason they’d decided to come to Skye for summer term, but she’d not known how to broach the subject. It felt like something that was best addressed in person. “She wasn’t expelled. I withdrew her because it was a hostile environment in which to learn.”

Muriel’s expression said she didn’t make the distinction. “She told me she pulled a girl’s hair because, in her words, ‘Sophie is a stroppy cow.’”

Serena smothered a laugh. Em had told her the same thing, even though she had refused to elaborate further. “In my opinion, she’s absolutely right. I have no doubt that Sophie began whatever caused Em to act out, but Sophie’s father happens to be the one who took Edward’s position after he died.”

“You think that might have had something to do with it?”

“I don’t know. But since Sunspring Energy is the reason the school even exists, you know they don’t want to do anything to offend their biggest patrons.”

“Same old story.” Muriel looked at her sympathetically. “So she’s going to be attending Sleat Primary.”

“She starts next week. I decided to enroll her in the Gaelic Medium course.”

“Even though she doesn’t speak Gaelic?”

Muriel didn’t mean the words as criticism, but they pierced all the same. Serena took a long swallow of her tea before she answered. “She speaks some. We’ve been working on it at home, and the head teacher assured me Em can be brought up to proficiency. She’s so ahead of her class in academics, it won’t have any long-term effects on her education. Besides, it’s only one term, and then she’ll be back to school in Nairn in the autumn.”

“You know, Serena, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Skye is part of your heritage. It was unfair for Edward to make you give it up. Even though you abided by his wishes while he was alive, you have the right to make different choices now that he’s gone.”

“Who says I feel guilty?” Serena said sharply. Muriel just smiled in that kind, knowing way that made Serena feel bad for her response, and she moved on uncomfortably. “In any case, they’ve allowed me to enroll Max in the Gaelic nursery class, even though he’s starting late. Then I won’t need to rely on you to babysit him while I’m at the hotel.”

“And how did that go?”

“Fine.” Even to her own ears, her tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “Mr. Blake seems to have things well in hand, even if he is somewhat . . . surly.”

“Had a bit of a run-in, did you?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I merely asked him to show me around the hotel, and he acted like it was a huge inconvenience. He assumes just because I want to know how the whole thing works that I’m questioning his judgment.”

“Well, dear, you do like to be in charge.”

“Aunt Muriel! Are you calling me bossy?”

Muriel shrugged, but there was a glint of mischief in her pale eyes. “I’m just saying that when you have two people who like to do things their own way, sometimes sparks are going to fly.”

An involuntary flush crept up Serena’s neck into her cheeks. “I would say mild irritation, not sparks. Sparks implies something else entirely. Besides, as far as the hotel’s concerned, I am in charge.”

“Of course. My mistake.” Muriel sipped her own tea. “I certainly hope you two can come to an understanding, considering you’re likely to be in close proximity to each other.”

“Trust me, I plan to have as little contact with him as possible. He can stick to his regular management duties, and I’ll work on marketing and guest satisfaction. There’s no reason for us to have much contact at all.”

“Whatever you say, dear.” Muriel’s tone was perfectly innocent, but something in her expression told Serena that the subject was far from dropped.