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plans to get your son home.’

CHAPTER FOUR
    C OLLEEN had flown home later that day on Daniel’s plane. Moving to London for what could be months necessitated more than the few belongings she’d packed. And if Harry was to be discharged on Tuesday she needed to be back in London tomorrow evening at the latest. Daniel had offered to send someone to her flat to pack her things for her, but she’d refused. No one was going to trawl through her cupboards except her. After she’d packed and cleared out her fridge, she had phoned Ciaran to let him know what she’d decided. He’d been disappointingly blasé about the fact he wouldn’t see her for a few weeks.
    She was being daft, of course she was. Ciaran loved her. Just because he didn’t create fireworks because he might not see her very often over the next few months was no reason to feel a little…disappointed? Deflated? Unappreciated?
    Relieved?
    If anything, the last twenty-four hours had deepened the feeling of unease she felt whenever she thought about her impending marriage.
    * * *
    As before, she flew back to London on Daniel’s private plane. Her third flight in less than two days. She couldget used to this way of travelling. No endless queueing for her bags to be checked, or to go through security or to have her passport examined. Everything happened as if by magic. As soon as she stepped into the arrivals’ hall, Daniel’s driver was waiting to take her suitcase, his car right outside, so she barely had to walk.
    Colleen reached for the car door before the chauffeur had a chance to open it for her. She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I’ll lose the use of my own arms if I don’t use them.’
    ‘Yes, madam.’
    ‘Oh, no. None of that madam stuff. Please call me Colleen.’
    ‘Yes, madam.’
    Oh dear.
    Suddenly the driver grinned and held out his hand. ‘I’m Mike.’
    She shook it, feeling relieved. Much more of that madamising malarkey and she would have gone crazy.
    * * *
    They had driven through London before coming to a halt in front of large wrought-iron gates that swung open as if sensing their arrival.
    Once again, Colleen got to the door before Mike could do it for her.
    ‘I don’t suppose I can carry my own bags?’ she said to him.
    ‘No need. They’ll be taken up to your room and unpacked for you,’ Mike replied, taking her embarrassingly bedraggled-looking bags from the boot.
    Colleen looked up at the most enormous mansion she’d ever seen. It was like something out of
Country House Rescue
, except she had no doubt that there would be no crumbling plasterwork or peeling paint in DanielFrobisher’s palace. Hooking her handbag over her shoulder, she skipped up the sweep of steps. As if by magic, the huge front door swung open, revealing a man in his early fifties, wearing the same black suit, white shirt and tie as the uniform of the chauffeur.
    ‘Welcome to Carrington Hall, Miss McCulloch.’
    Colleen held her hand out. ‘Mr Haversham, I presume?’
    The man couldn’t have looked more shocked had she attacked him with a deadly weapon. Colleen let her hand drop.
    ‘Mr Haversham is Mr Frobisher’s personal assistant. I’m Burton, Mr Frobisher’s butler.’
    Did people really still have butlers? This felt more and more like she was in a period costume drama.
    ‘Please call me, Colleen. Don’t you have a first name, Mr Burton?’
    ‘Just Burton, miss. Please follow me,’ the butler said, taking her bags from Mike. ‘Mr Frobisher sends his apologies. I am to tell you that he is unable to welcome you personally, but unfortunately he has pressing business to attend to. He says he’ll see you at dinner.’
    Colleen hid her dismay. Daniel had made all that effort to get her here in the first place, but couldn’t spare the time to greet her! If he truly cared about Harry, shouldn’t his son and not a business deal be his first priority? The sympathy she’d been feeling towards him faded. If he thought he could hand Harry over to