Page 21 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

Ezra noticed me appreciating it. “I worried that the world globe idea might look a bit odd, but it actually works rather well.”

“It does,” I agreed. “And you look very dashing.”

Ezra’s cheeks hinted at a blush. “I suppose I don’t scrub up too badly. I remember the time Meryl Streep told me I was every bit as good-looking as George Clooney.”

I tried to hide a smile.

He scrutinised himself on the cover again. “No doubt you’ve heard the contents of my book have caused somewhat of a rumpus?”

I stepped back out into the hallway, taking in the shades of cream and gold. “I did read something about that in the papers.”

Following behind me, Ezra dragged a hand through his thick hair. “And I’m sure that won’t be the end of it.” He fell silent for a few moments, looking pensive.

I decided to change the subject for a few moments. I didn’t like to see Ezra so preoccupied. Bloody Zach Stern!

“How would you feel about using gold in the floral displays?” I pointed to his gold-leaf mirror and the soft hues on the walls. “At this time of year, it’d be warm and comforting as well as stunning.”

Ezra folded his arms. “That sounds lovely. What did you have in mind?”

I grabbed my phone back out of my bag and pulled up some images. “I was thinking of having rustic colours down here, inspired by the surrounding forestry. It’d also compliment your interior.” I pointed to the images on my phone. “I was going to suggest preserved eucalyptus, baby’s breath and ferns, as well as pinecones, golden ears of wheat and dried flowers.”

Ezra studied the pictures I was showing him. “Sounds perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so. We could have tatarica, lagurus and setaria, with oats and hill flowers.” I gestured to my phone again. “The whole effect would be a sumptuous, wintery display featuring golds, silvers, bronzes, and crisp white.”

I glanced up at Ezra’s dramatic staircase. The banister would look stunning wreathed in a festive garland of holly and ivy for Christmas. There were also a couple of eye-catching abstract paintings of what looked like pastel-blue cubes balanced on an upended triangle.

Ezra spotted me studying them. “They’re by a young French artist. Please don’t ask me what they’re supposed to represent, but I spotted them in Paris last year and I loved the colours.”

“I can understand why they caught your eye.” More ideas trotted through my head. “How about using an electric-blue in the upstairs floral arrangements? I could tweak the downstairs suggestions and incorporate sea holly in blue, together with witch hazel, thistles, and forsythia for the upper part of the house.” I could feel my face beaming with enthusiasm. “Witch hazel looks like fireworks exploding and forsythia has a gorgeous, spicy scent.”

I showed more images of the flowers on my phone to Ezra, who nodded. “That sounds wonderful and very seasonal. Perfect.”

“And if you did want something extra special in the run-up to Christmas, I can add some bright blue ribbon for an extra splash of colour and also create a matching wreath in the same rustic colours to put at the entrance. I could interweave that one with streams of gold satin ribbon?”

I knew my endless stream of ideas was beginning to run away with me but I couldn’t help it.

Ezra however, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked very impressed. “Ideal. Thank you, Bailey.”

It was great to be able to distract myself with something other than nosy magazine journalists. A creak from somewhere towards the kitchen made me jerk my head up.

I turned around to see a tall, wiry man, not dissimilar to Ezra in stature and hair colour, loping towards us.

Ezra encouraged the older man over, who introduced himself as Joshua McColl, Ezra’s new gardener.

We exchanged pleasantries and handshakes.

“I was just speaking to Bailey about the floral heaven she’s going to create for me every couple of weeks,” explained Ezra, then put his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “And Joshua can turn a weed into a flower just by looking at it.”

Joshua rolled his dark hooded eyes. “I think you’re exaggerating a bit there, sir.”

“Oh, stop with the sir nonsense,” insisted Ezra. “I’ve told you before.”

I took in Joshua’s features again. “You could be related,” I joked to Joshua, smiling over at him. “Like brothers––”

My words vanished as an idea screamed inside my head. No. We couldn’t do that. What if it didn’t work? We could end up looking total idiots.

Nonetheless, I studied Joshua’s profile, so similar in its hawkish way to Ezra’s. No, it was a crazy idea. Use a decoy? Dupe Zach Stern and make him think the sighting of Ezra had been a case of mistaken identity? That the two women hadn’t seen Ezra King in his car after all but Joshua instead?