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and no tears. Here’s hoping my oversharing draws him out.

‘Susie,’ whispered Ewen, ‘I really am so, so sorry. I’ve stepped out of line. That’s awful. Terrible. Terrible. So sad.’

‘It’s okay, let’s leave it.’

‘Guess you’re going to tell me it’s my turn now?’

I was so pleased he was trying to lighten the mood.

‘Yup, fair’s fair.’

Now how was he going to soften the blow having brought up my dead twin?

‘Rightfully I should be the 10th Earl.’

‘Really?’ I said, thinking, yes, Ewen is about to confide in me (or have a go at his brother).

He looked down at my plate. ‘Since you’ve finished, I’ll explain.’

Gads, what’s he about to bring up?

‘Here’s a home truth,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Had Ma given birth naturally I would have come out first. But no, fifteen hours in she had a bloody caesarean, I was pushed into second place and Fergus suddenly became the heir.’ He grasped his wine glass and I hoped for his sake he wasn’t going to crack it again.

‘That’s extraordinary.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘I’ve never thought about such a scenario before.’

‘Well, if you’ve no need,’ he sounded much happier with another glass of wine in him, ‘there’s no point.’

‘Hey, I could be the Duchess of anywhere for all you know.’

He laughed again. ‘It is quite a sensitive subject, you know.’

‘I’m sorry, I do understand.’ I did. Because, even though people say male primogeniture is ‘so last century’ one can to this day drum up plenty of families who pass on estate, house and contents to the closest male heir. Here at Auchen Laggan Tosh it presents an acutely jealous case. When the previous Earl of Muchton died, the eighteenth-century Highland title and family estate all landed in his son Fergus’s lap. Ewen, in the cruellest of twists, lost out on it all.

‘Hey,’ I tried to rally him. ‘Why don’t you prove everyone wrong?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Go out into the world, find a vocation, reach the top of your game. Maybe even get your own title, end up in the House of Lords if that’s what you want?’

‘It’s not.’

‘Well, what do you want then?’

‘My fair share.’

‘That would mean selling the family home.’

‘Nah, he could keep it. I mean the paintings. There’s a fortune here, mouldering away on the walls. Why can’t he sell a few and give me half? Fergus would have money to do up the house and I’d have some to get me started in life.’

‘So you’d do the same if you were the heir?’

‘Of course.’ He gave an unconvincing grin. ‘I certainly wouldn’t have his hang-up about honouring our ancestors.’

Ewen looked down the table towards Zoe and I wondered if he’d been putting pressure on her? She gave him a glowing smile; there’s certainly no hostility between these two. She seems to be thrilled he’s part of the party. Maybe a wife warms to someone who resembles her husband? In looks at least. Fergus, responsible, and Ewen, footloose, don’t seem to me to be cut from the same cloth.

‘Don’t you respect your brother for being a custodian, not thinking of this house and contents as being his to sell?’ I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Ewen gave me a go-on-then-argue-your-point look. So I did. ‘Fergus doesn’t want to be responsible for losing this estate. He’s willing, they’re willing, to do all they can to bring in enough money to keep it together and continue living here. That’s huge pressure. Any money they earn will go into it, whereas any money you earn will be yours to keep.’

‘Hmm, that’s a new way of looking at it.’

‘And an unspoilt one.’

‘Oi. You’re pretty blunt, aren’t you.’

‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’

Louis, sitting much further down the other side of the table, caught my eye as if to say, I hope it’s going okay with my mate Ewen. I lifted my glass with an it’s-all-great reply.

‘Louis checking up on you, is he?’

I blushed. ‘You met him on a photography course, didn’t you?’

‘Is there anything you don’t know?’

‘Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m interested in people.’

‘I better be careful then,’ Ewen smiled, and promptly stood up to clear the plates.

Pudding arrived on the hotplate and Shane could not get over the name Spotted Dick. He giggled and joked as Zoe and Ewen doled it out. Minty was offered some first and when she refused, Shane, without missing a beat, said, ‘You can always have some of mine if you’d prefer.’ Everyone laughed, except Jane.

I spent the rest of dinner listening to Felicity talk me through her uneventful plane journey here, and as soon as the first people rose to leave I took my cue and got up too. Fergus followed me out and whispered in my ear, ‘The art valuer’s arriving at seven-fifteen tomorrow morning. Best come to the hall five minutes before.’

I smiled and thanked him and said, ‘Good night.’

A day of work and an afternoon out in the cold sent me straight upstairs after dinner. Jane was of the same opinion. ‘If tomorrow night’s burlesque and the following a ceilidh, I must get some sleep in advance.’

‘Night, Susie,’ she said.

‘Night, Jane,’ I called back. Then grabbing my toothbrush from my room, I glanced at the painting of the Annunciation on my way to the bathroom. Twin daughters granted to the Countess who longed for a son just shows our creator at times has a different plan. But I bet you her eldest daughter made a great Countess. A woman in a man’s world. I must try and find a moment to ask Fergus about her.

I stared into the mirror above the sink, watching toothpaste foam in the corners of my mouth. Why had my parents decided I didn’t need to know I’m a twin? I can’t believe they kept this tragedy from me and it upsets me to think they’ve deceived me for thirty-something years.

I plodded back down the passage with heavy limbs and as I changed into my nightie and got into bed I felt drowned in unhappy thoughts. Lying under the covers in the foetal

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