No rest for the weary, of course. She’d looked forward to a full night alone with her own thoughts. Now she would’ve gladly settled for ten minutes to herself, and yet even that small measure was apparently too much to ask.

“No, thank you, I’ll do so immediately. Could I bother you to join me in the study, in about an hour?”

“Of course, ma’am. Would you like me to summon anyone else in the interim?”

The question suggested he thought she should, but her brain was full to the brim, and she had bigger questions to answer first. “Let’s wait and see what conclusion my father and I arrive at.”

“Very well.” He nodded and took his leave. Vic wished she could do the same, but she’d just given herself a mere hour to formulate a course of action, get her father’s approval, and figure out how to begin implementing details she’d yet to conceive.

She strode through the large dining room, down a wood-panelled corridor, and into her father’s formal study. Unlike many other fathers, he’d never barred her from his sanctuary. Throughout the years he’d patiently explained a multitude of concepts, from lines of succession to land grants to resource conservation, in here. He’d never shied away from the complexities of their lives, always giving her a fair chance to understand what was at stake and form her own opinions. Now that their roles were slowly reversing, she owed him nothing less.

Dropping into his high-backed leather desk chair, she dialled his number by heart. It took only two rings before his gentle voice conveyed the smile she couldn’t see. “Do you miss us already?”

“Always.”

“Good, then you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Vic sighed at the mix of emotions the questions inspired in her. She didn’t relish the tasks that would now keep her at the castle much longer than expected, but she’d be lying to herself and to him if she said she wanted to rush back to Scotland.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “Your silence is ominous. Let me find a quieter place to talk. Then you can tell me all about what’s keeping you away.”

She doubted she’d tell him all about it. She’d stick to business, as it was easier to understand than her mental state. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Scotland. She had such happy memories there. As a child she’d run free on their family’s summer retreats. She’d climbed windswept rocks and run barefoot through fields. She’d never been expected to wear dresses or tie back her hair. When had it all changed? It would be easy to associate that level of happiness with childhood, but not her childhood. The rules had always been different when in residence at the castle, or at boarding school, and anyway, Scotland continued its wildness well past her teenage years.