Page 87 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

“Thank you, Mr Gray,” I said, smiling with appreciation.

“It’s Carson. Please.” He leant forward on the sofa. “So, you’re interested in Briar Glen and the Gray family.” He raised his bristly brows in expectation.

Ophelia began first, explaining the full story, including how shocked she was when she found out her great-aunt Isadora had been briefly married to Jonathan Gray.

I took over at that point. “Ophelia and I had been intending to find out about Briar Forsyth, once we had discovered the letter from her to Jonathan Gray tucked in beside the tea set.”

We’d decided as we pulled up in front of Carson Gray’s detached bungalow that we wouldn’t mention Ophelia wanting to rid herself of the tea set and therefore dumping it on me. We weren’t sure how he would take that and we didn’t want to appear rude.

Carson’s expressions were a picture as Ophelia and I took turns to describe what we had discovered so far, thanks to Annabel’s hard work. It was as though he couldn’t make up his mind, between the two of us, which one he found more arresting.

Once Ophelia had explained about the alleged theft of the tea set, I reached down to my feet and set out the leather case. With one swift click, it eased open, the peacock design and rich colours greeting Carson Gray. “Bloody hell!” he gasped. “Is that it? Is that the actual tea set that was taken?” He let out another sound of appreciation when I slid my hand inside the pouch stitched into the open lid and eased out the yellowing letter from Briar Forsyth to Jonathan Gray. It let out the gentlest rustle and smelled of warm vanilla. I handed it to him.

Carson Gray’s smoky grey eyes almost fell out of his head. “Oh, my word!” He read it over a couple of times. “This is … this is the final piece of the puzzle.”

Ophelia let out a husky laugh. “If only that were true.”

Carson blinked across at her. “What do you mean?”

Ophelia explained about Briar Forsyth and how she had been wrongly accused of stealing the tea set.

Carson appraised both of us. There was a look of anticipation shifting in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you have come to talk to me in that case.”

I flashed a hopeful smile at him. “Oh, and why’s that?”

He clasped his large, knotted hands together. “Because you’re right. Briar Forsyth didn’t steal that tea set.” His absorbed gaze flickered over the open case and the tea set resting by my feet.

Ophelia thumped her hands down on her lap in triumph. “I knew it! So, what happened between them? Did Jonathan Gray get Briar pregnant and pretend she stole it to blacken her name?”

Carson stretched out his long, pipe-cleaner legs in front of him. “You are partly right.”

My attention was drawn to his hesitation. “Sorry, but I don’t follow.”

Carson’s angled cheeks picked up streaks of colour. “This isn’t something I tend to relate about my dear ancestors at dinner parties.”

As the gold carriage clock ticked on top of the grey stone fireplace, Carson looked thoughtfully at Ophelia and me. “Yes, you are right in a sense. Jonathan did steal the tea set and try to frame Briar for it.” His rumbling voice continued to command our attention. “That is what this letter is all about.” He gestured to the aging document as it lay unfolded on the coffee table.

“But why did you say we were partly correct?” I asked.

Carson’s next sentence made me sit up straighter on his sofa. “You are right that Briar Forsyth did fall pregnant, but you’re wrong about who the baby’s father was.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Ophelia’s mouth fell open.

She delved into her rose-gold handbag and produced her phone. She located the copy of George’s birth certificate and pushed the phone with its image towards Carson. “The named father on this certificate is Ernest Telfer, but Jonathan Gray was the boy’s biological father. He must have been. Why go to all that trouble of trying to frame the girl for stealing?”

I remembered Saffy’s great-grandfather’s diary entry about that icy Christmas Eve, with Jonathan Gray verbally abusing a distressed young woman, and told Carson as much.

Carson held up his hands in mock surrender. “That’s true. She did have a son called George and Ernest Telfer was named as his father on the birth certificate. I’ve also no doubt Jonathan Gray was more than capable of humiliating a woman in freezing conditions like that.” He shook his head. “It’s very clear that young man had no moral compass.”

I could feel my forehead creasing. “So if Jonathan Gray wasn’t George’s biological father, then why did he attempt to blame Briar for stealing and try to get rid of her? Why have her accused of taking this?” I pointed down to the tea set resting on Carson’s loud Paisley carpet.

“And why try to bribe her with it?” interjected Ophelia. “At least that is what we assumed he was doing, going by Briar’s reference in her letter to something beautiful and a treasure.”

Another thought crept across my brain. One that made the possibility of this poor young woman being manipulated and treated like a major inconvenience prickle my skin.

Carson eyed us both. He pointed to the tea set winking out of its dark velvet interior. “Jonathan was incensed when he found out Briar Forsyth was pregnant and wanted to protect his own interests, so he thought having her blamed for theft and dismissed from Castle Marrian would solve all his problems.”