Page 97 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

There was a growing buzz amongst the bidders. We could hear the intermittent scraping of chairs, as the other attendees turned to examine who was controlling the bidding war with such ease.

“Come on, ladies and gentlemen. Take a look at this beautifully crafted tea set again. It possesses a history no author could have dreamt up in their imagination. An Ernest Telfer original of the finest porcelain. Now, do I hear £50,000?”

I watched wide-eyed as the woman with the scarlet lips muttered into her raised mobile. She gave a definite nod.

Raymond Curtis couldn’t disguise the thrill in his voice as the mysterious woman increased her own previous bid. “Thank you, Madam. That’s £50,000 bid. Do I hear any more?”

The silence throbbed. I held my breath. Mum and Dad clung to each other, while Cass, Ophelia, Hal and Ivy looked like they had just been confronted by a hungry werewolf. Carson sat behind me, clasping his wife’s hand.

“So, no more bids on £50,000?”

Silence greeted the auctioneer. “Going once… going twice….”

The dark-haired woman sat steadfast, a slight twist of triumph lurking at the corners of her mouth.

“£55,000!” roared a deep voice I knew so well.

I blinked down at the audience, before realising the vocal eruption had come from the chair right beside me. Cass gasped, Mum and Dad turned to stare at each other, Ophelia flopped back in her chair, while all Hal and Ivy could do was open and close their mouths.

“What are you doing, young man?” hissed Carson.

“£55,000,” repeated Xander towering beside me. All heads below swung round to look up at where we were sitting.

Xander challenged the icy glare of the dark-haired woman with one of his own. “I’m bidding £55,000.”

Chapter Fifty

I shot out of my chair and grabbed at Xander’s suit sleeve. “Xander! What the hell are you doing?”

Xander contorted his mouth and hissed out the corner. “Don’t worry, Soph. I know what I’m doing.”

“But … but you can’t know! You’re bidding a huge amount of money.”

Xander was too preoccupied with the glowering woman in the gallery below. She was twisted round in her chair and delivering the full force of her ire at him.

I turned helplessly to my parents. I knew Xander possessed an impressive private art collection. Surely he wasn’t planning on selling one of his treasured paintings to buy the tea set?

My heart lurched with love and gratitude for his kind and well-meaning action, but there was no way I was prepared to let him do that. I thrust out my hand again.

Raymond Curtis couldn’t contain his delight at the dramatic events unfolding before him. The auction hall had erupted. He looked like a six-year-old boy on Christmas morning. “Please, ladies and gentlemen. We must resume the auction. Now, £55,000 bid by the gentleman in the balcony. Do I hear any increase? Madam, can you be tempted?”

He turned again to the mysterious brunette. Her slash of red lipstick remained frozen.

“Xander,” I said in as measured tones as I could muster. “I know what you’re trying to do and I love you for it. But please. Don’t spend all that money.”

“I agree,” implored Ophelia from her seat. “It’s so wonderful of you to consider doing this, Xander, but…”

Xander shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

An expectant hush fell across the auction attendees. The dark-haired woman’s eyes were like chips of ice. From our view in the gods, I could see her snarling into her mobile. Whoever she was talking to, they appeared to be having some sort of heated exchange.

I was at risk of dislodging my French roll as I snapped my head between the woman, Xander and the shocked entourage seated with us.

A sound like wind rushing through autumn branches escaped from everyone when the woman eventually gave the briefest shake of her head, to denote she wasn’t prepared to increase her bid.

“Sold!” exclaimed Raymond Curtis, with the most dramatic thump of his gavel. “For £55,000 to the smartly dressed gentleman up in the balcony.”

A gush of relieved air escaped from Xander, before a slow smile spread across his lips.