Page 29 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

“Thanks. It’s bloody heavy!”

Ally transferred the box onto the floor, so that it was out of the way and then laid the leather case on the table. Finn sauntered over for a closer inspection.

I touched the gold clasp and it released itself with a classy rasp.

I pushed at the lid and it glided backwards to reveal its mysterious contents.

My eyes almost fell out of my face.

I had never seen anything like it before.

Chapter Thirteen

The interior of the leather case was plush black velvet.

Nestling inside its various compartments was a tea set, consisting of four cups, saucers, a milk jug and a teapot.

The porcelain crockery was composed of rich greens and golds, with an intricate peacock motif. On the teapot, the peacock’s swathe of impressive tail feathers fanned out to reach up into the spout.

It was a little too fussy for my taste, but the detail and rich colours were gorgeous: olive, petrol-blue and racing green, all pulled together by the deep gold running around the handles of the cups and the teapot.

“I wonder how old that lot is?” asked Ally, peering over my shoulder.

I traced one puzzled finger around the edge of one of the saucers. “I reckon it’s pretty old. The gold edging around the teacup handles is very worn in places, so it looks like it has been well used.”

Finn jerked his dark, cropped head at the contents. “It’s certainly unusual. I bet my missus would like it, though.”

I couldn’t get over the bizarre situation. A woman depositing an old tea set on me and then vanishing. “I wish my gran was here. I bet she would have some sort of idea about it.”

It was true I didn’t have my grandmother here to bounce this off, but I did have Howard Thrall.

Ally and Finn returned to their painting and I took a couple of photos of the tea set with my phone. I forwarded Howard the photographs of the crockery, together with a picture of the closed leather case, and put my phone away, to get on with wiping down the shop windows.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Howard’s number flashed up on my screen.

“Well!” he exclaimed down the line. “You certainly threw me a curve ball with this one.”

I headed back out into the main street to take the call. The other shop windows were now bathed in gilded June light and there was a light clatter of cutlery from the café around the corner. My stomach performed a pirouette of disappointment. “You don’t recognise it?”

Howard confessed that he didn’t. “It’s rather enchanting in a busy sort of way, isn’t it?”

I gave a short laugh. “That’s the perfect way to describe it.” I peered through the bottle-glass windows of the shop to study the open leather case and its contents again. The tea set glistened out. “So, you have no idea who the artist might be or how old it is?”

“Well … yes and no.”

I frowned down the line. What did he mean?

“I don’t recognise the artist or that pattern,” he confessed, “but what I can tell you is that there have been a couple of similar tea sets to that one that were discovered last year, which were traced back to the 1800s.”

I swallowed. Bloody hell! If that was how old this one was, why would someone be so keen to get rid of something so valuable? Perhaps the lady who brought it here had no idea that she was in possession of an antique?

“Would you be able to do some investigative work please, Howard?” I glanced through the shop window again to where the tea set was on the foldout table. “I’m at a loss as to why that woman was in such a hurry to deposit it on me and then leave like she did.”

Instead of the enthusiastic agreement from Howard that I’d hoped for, there came a sincere apology. “I would if I could, Sophie, but I’m afraid I’ve been called away on business tomorrow to Venice. I will be abroad for the next few weeks.”

My heart deflated, but I tried to make light of it. “Oh, never mind. I don’t blame you going to Venice for a few weeks.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the end of the line. “But I’ve just had an idea. For something as alluring as this, I suggest we call in the big guns.” He dropped his voice a little, implying a degree of reverence. “Have you heard of a chap by the name of Xander North?”