Page 101 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

‘Come on,’ urged Mason, ‘we’re so close.’

‘But there’s no stream or water in any of these six gardens, from what I can see.’

‘Not a stream, but there could be the remnants of a fountain.’

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze and began to search around, brandishing a trowel, while my stomach rolled with nerves. I knew what was riding on our success. I squared my shoulders and assisted him.

I rubbed a hand down my face. My hair was still loose from when Mason had loosened it from its ponytail and my locks flipped and flapped down my back. I pushed some behind my ears, only to notice Mason watching me.

‘You look like you’ve just fallen out of bed.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘My bed, preferably.’

‘You just keep your mind on the task at hand, please.’

Mason continued to prod at the earth of Capercaillie Cottage, where we had started, and search the section of hedge.

After a while, I was beginning to experience the first pangs of defeat. ‘What are you looking for, Mason? A crumbling fountain? I think we should stop. Perhaps we’re wrong.’

Mason shook his dark head and marched towards the second cottage. ‘I don’t think we’re wrong. We should keep looking.’ He headed straight for the next stretch of hedgerow and began raking and jabbing at the soil, peering into the thicket of twigs and leaves.

A few minutes later, he beckoned me over to a clump of dense hedgerow towards the back of the garden. A strip of rich, dark flower bed ran in front of it.

‘What is it? Have you found something?’

Mason’s hand pushed against the hedge. ‘I think I can see something concealed in there.’ He used both hands to separate the tightly knitted leaves. As he did so, a section of pale-grey stone emerged.

‘Is it a fountain?’ I asked, craning my neck for a closer look.

‘It does look like some sort of small Georgian water feature. It probably acted as a bird bath out here. Look at the gorgeous, raised decoration on the front.’

I clenched my fists. ‘Water! Could Georgina’s jewellery box be around here?’

‘Let’s see.’

Mason cleared away some further branches that had accumulated around the base of what was remaining of the water feature. Picking up his trowel from the grass, he sank it into the bed of earth. ‘I’m sure Georgina would have hidden it not to close to the base, for fear of water damaging the box.’

‘And she said to the Scarlet Highwayman she would wear it whenever she met up with him, so presumably she wouldn’t have buried it somewhere complicated or too deep.’ I knelt down beside him and picked up the spare trowel. ‘This feels so strange. I mean, if Blake Summers was the Scarlet Highwayman and he gave Georgina this pendant, it’s as if I’m reaching back into my own past.’

Mason turned to me, his eyes soft like the harbour water. ‘We’re getting closer to finding out the truth and a lot of that is down to you. You don’t give up easily, do you?’

‘No.’ I stroked his hand.

He flashed me a smile. ‘Get digging, Rapunzel.’

We scooped out earth, its damp aroma rising up to greet us. The knees of my black trousers clung to the damp grass, and Mason’s biceps tensed under his shirt. We edged away clumps of dirt, scooping it to one side.

I was beginning to feel a little deflated, when Mason shovelled up another trowel full of earth and stopped. ‘I think I might have found something.’

My hand shot out and gripped his arm. He leaned across and playfully stroked my cheek. ‘Don’t get too excited until we see what it is.’

I flopped onto my bottom and watched, not daring to breathe.

Mason rolled up one shirtsleeve and angled his right hand into the hole he’d made. Then he used his other hand to lever out the object.

‘Is that it?’ I asked faintly. ‘Oh, please tell me that’s it.’

Mason placed the dirt-speckled, faded jewellery box on the grass in front of him and dusted off his fingers. On the lid was a carving of two entwined roses. Some of the rich detail had evaporated over time, but there was still a special curve to the layers of petals. They reminded me of something.

‘You open it, Poppy.’