Page 110 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

Eliza stood down from the platform, assisted by Mason’s strong arm.

‘Do I have your permission, Mrs Compton, to refer to Georgina’s diary?’

‘It’s Eliza,’ she insisted, ‘and yes, please do.’ She cast her soulful eyes to the crowd staring back at her. ‘I think it’s so important for them to know who the Scarlet Highwayman really was and that he didn’t commit the terrible atrocities he was accused of.’ Eliza passed the diary to Mason, who turned the pages with great care to avoid inflicting any damage until he located what he was looking for.

Mason regarded the enthralled crowd. ‘In order to save his own life and that of the woman he loved, as well as a boy he regarded as his own, Gideon Kelly left Port Starr.’ Then he hesitated. ‘Or at least, that’s what he led people to believe.’

Mason’s attention turned again to Georgina’s diary entry. From where I was standing, I could see her now familiar handwriting swim across the pages in thick black loops.

‘But that wasn’t the end of the story,’ emphasised Mason in his irresistible Australian drawl. ‘This man, an educated musician and violin tutor to young Oscar, couldn’t bear to say goodbye to the woman he loved.’ Mason gave me a meaningful look over his shoulder and resumed talking. ‘And that is why he gave up everything, became the Scarlet Highwayman and hid out in the bowels of McKerron Castle. He did what he did for Georgina and Oscar.’

Chapter Forty-Seven

Mason glanced up at the assembled audience, who had fallen quiet again.

I spun around to look at Eliza beside me. Her eyes held a strange sort of contentment.

Mason took the opportunity to smirk at Alex. ‘He only ever robbed people associated with the Lapleys and the many acquaintances and dodgy associates of the family.’

‘And the money,’ called out a woman from the crowd in a sugar-pink chiffon scarf. ‘He donated that back to Port Starr?’

Another called out, ‘Aye, but he was a highwayman? Surely, he committed illegal acts?’

Mason lifted up Georgina’s diary, where all the robberies and money acquired were listed at the back. ‘It’s all carefully catalogued here in chronological order; dates, the individuals robbed, how much was taken from them and where it was donated. He tried to support and help the poorer people of Port Starr. The last thing Gideon wanted to do was punish or hurt them. That isn’t who he was.’

He scanned the donation list and began to speak again. ‘Gideon and Georgina made this money available to many of the very poor so they could learn the basics of reading and writing. They donated to the poorhouses in an attempt to provide the most vulnerable in our society with decent food and a comfortable bed to sleep in.’

I felt tears misting my eyes. It was a stunning turn of events. Georgina knew and even abetted her dashing lover.

Mason’s smile to the crowd carried admiration. ‘They even contributed to the local church, so that its leaky roof and damp could be attended to.’ He surveyed the faces staring up at him from the street. ‘Gideon Kelly and Georgina Lapley deserve our grateful thanks, not our scorn. I’m sure that those locals they helped over two hundred years ago would agree.’ He raised the diary aloft and gave it a gentle wave. ‘This was Gideon’s way of exacting revenge on Augustus Lapley for his treatment of Georgina and Oscar.’

There was a stunned silence, followed by gales of gasps and tinkles of shocked laughter. I stared up at the diary still held aloft in Mason’s hands.

The enquiring voice of David Telfer from Historic Heritage broke through my surprise. ‘So, is that blond man in the suit Alex Lapley?’

I nodded.

David’s lips pursed. He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling below thick, fair brows. ‘After I spoke to you that day on the phone, I did a bit of digging.’ He pointed to the microphone and spoke to Mason. ‘May I?’

Mason stepped to one side. ‘Be my guest.’

David, in a navy-blue shirt puffed out his chest and nervously introduced himself, before explaining about our discussion of the cottages attaining Listed Building status. He swivelled his attention to Alex. ‘I think I know why Mr Lapley here was so very keen to have Ms Summers’s business.’

Alex paled.

‘He put forward a proposal to turn the land the cottages are on into a highbrow museum.’

‘Whatever for?’ I puzzled.

David’s eyes bored into Alex as he squirmed on the spot. ‘He was spinning us at Historic Heritage a yarn or three that his ancestor Augustus was very active in the community and had donated a lot of money to worthy causes in the area – prior to his death.’

David frowned over at Alex as he spoke. ‘He said Augustus Lapley had all but been a local saint and that the Scarlet Highwayman had murdered him. He then suggested that as a tribute to what he had achieved – and the historical significance of the name here – we should invest not only in a museum dedicated to the family, but also in the Lapley estate – The Hawthorns, isn’t it?’ David’s deep-set eyes glanced over at Eliza.

A bark of laughter escaped from me. ‘Oh, you are kidding!’

David’s frosty eyes narrowed. ‘From the information I’ve gathered so far, the Lapley finances are in an appalling state, thanks to dodgy deals and careless investments.’

‘So, this guy tried to make out the Augustus dude was some sort of do-gooder, in order to get cash?’ guffawed the taller of the two teenagers who continued to stare down Alex Lapley. ‘That’s low, mate.’