He opened the door and stood there, taking her in with a sweep of his gaze. “Are you all right?” He was frowning and looked concerned.

“Tired, cold still, but getting warmer. How about you? And Ollie?”

“No need to worry about me. Ollie’s fine. Grounded. And so is his friend Troy. But otherwise he is safe and sound, thanks to you. Would you mind too much if I joined you for dinner?”

“Here?” she asked. She wasn’t properly dressed to eat with Grant in the bedchamber or anywhere else tonight. And why wouldn’t he be eating with his pack?

“Aye, if you don’t mind.”

She hesitated. He would never guess she was naked under the robe. “I’d like that very much. Come, join me.” She thought he meant to share her meal right then and there.

But he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Before she could consider removing her robe and throwing on some jeans and a sweater, he returned with a tray of food, and she realized Maynard must have also left Grant’s meal in his room and Grant wanted company.

“You didn’t plan to eat with your people tonight?”

“I wanted to be close by in case you needed anything,” he said, sitting down at the table with her. He sounded genuinely apprehensive.

His concern touched her. “I really am fine.”

The square oak table in her room seemed even smaller when trying to accommodate Grant’s long legs. His knees brushed hers when he sat down and felt wickedly seductive. She was shocked at the touch, but more so when his mouth curved up marginally.

“I want to thank you for rescuing Ollie,” he said.

“He needed help. I was the closest one who could reach him,” Colleen said matter-of-factly. She would have done it for anyone.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, wanting to discuss another matter. “I’ve been pondering over some of what you told me earlier about your father’s drowning. Do you think my dad was responsible for Robert MacQuarrie’s death? And your mother’s?” Colleen asked, needing to know the truth.

“I believe Theodore Playfair had the most to gain from my father’s death. Or he thought he did. He resented that Neda doted on my brothers and me. And he fought with her over wanting to manage the estates.”

“His drinking, I’m sure, contributed to the way my grandmother felt. I imagine that the news didn’t go over well with my father,” Colleen said, dipping a spoon into the stew.

“Aye. You are right on both accounts. I don’t know about my mother. Maybe Theodore felt if Eleanor was gone, my father would be so distraught that he couldn’t continue to manage the properties. My father was in bad shape for quite a while. My mother would never have been on the cliffs during a storm or at any other time.

“She had three toddlers to care for. She adored us and was very happy. My father was terribly depressed when she died. The whole clan pulled together to watch out for him. If he had died on the cliffs closer to the time my mother drowned, we might have assumed he did so out of grief. But years later? Nay.”

Colleen agreed with Grant’s assumption. She watched as he buttered his bread and waited until he’d finished eating the slice to pose another question. “I hate to ask, but was my father around when your dad was so depressed?”

Grant scooped up some of his stew. “Nay. Many believed Theodore was responsible for my mother’s death. No one could prove it. But he was not welcome. When my father didn’t take his own life shortly after my mother died, Theodore left for America and mated with your mother.

“Theodore returned every so often to ensure his mother left the property to him and didn’t give it to my father, I’m certain. Great animosity existed between the two men. And he hated me and my brothers. When my brothers and I were away at university, my father drowned on a blustery, cold winter’s night, just like my mother had many years earlier. Again, no witnesses. It seemed too easy to dismiss as mere coincidence.” Grant finished off his meal.

“It wasn’t the anniversary of your mother’s death or anything?” Colleen guessed, fingering her buttered slice of bread.

“Nay. My father had been talking to me about my brothers and me coming home for the holidays. He was so proud of us. When my father died, I couldn’t believe it. Neda called me home, and I took over management of the pack and the estates. And Theodore was still there. He was outraged, so certain that upon my father’s death, he would manage the estates. Neda explained to him that my father had trained me and the pack was mine to lead once my father died.

“If Theodore could have gotten away with it, I’m certain he would have killed me for it. Even so, I had my doubts that he could have killed either of my parents—not on his own. He stormed out of the castle and returned to Maryland. He didn’t come back until he inherited the castle.”

She took a deep breath, hating that her father could have been involved in anything of the sort. “I’m sure he hated that on top of everything, you were a young man.”

“Aye.”

But Grant hadn’t believed he had acted alone. Who else then? “You said Archibald was like his father and grandfather. Uilleam Borthwick murdered yours to try and take over the management of the castle. How was Archibald’s father like that?”

“Haldane Borthwick had been visiting Theodore both when my mother died and then years later when my father drowned. Purely by chance? I think not.”