Page 113 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

She paused, then confessed, ‘I’m not ashamed to admit I was frightened of what they were capable of.’

Mason and I nodded.

‘Well, there’s no need to feel frightened anymore, Eliza,’ Mason assured her. ‘Everything is out in the open now and the whole of Port Starr knows the truth. That’s the most important thing.’

I nodded again. ‘It’s ironic that the Lapley family were funding the castle, when it turns out that was where Gideon was hiding out and presumably stashing his spoils.’

Eliza tilted her sweep of white-grey hair. ‘It seems that love letters were being smuggled between Gideon in McKerron Castle and Georgina at The Hawthorns.’

‘And the rose carvings?’ I asked, glancing at Mason. ‘We noticed the same beautiful motif up at the castle, on the jewellery box Gideon gave Georgina and also on Gideon’s headstone.’

Eliza smiled. ‘Yes, you would have. Gideon trained as a stonemason under his father, before he discovered his love of music. Roses were Georgina’s favourite flower and Gideon was a musician in the prestigious Rose Mount Royal Orchestra in Glasgow.’

Eliza described how roses held a special place in Gideon’s heart and so he designed the entwined double-rose motif as a sign of the love he and Georgina had for one another.

She gave a little sigh. ‘Rumour has it that he snuck out late each night for several nights up at McKerron Castle, risking capture, just so he could carve the roses into that stone.’ She started to rise from her chair. ‘There’s something else I wanted to show you both.’

She disappeared from the sitting room. We could hear the odd thump and clatter from a cupboard somewhere further down the hallway, until Eliza returned moments later with a large cardboard box.

Mason jumped up straightaway and insisted on carrying it for her. ‘Please. Allow me.’

He set it down by her feet while she settled herself back in her armchair. Eliza’s crinkly gaze alighted on me again. ‘Poppy, you wanted to know what became of Gideon, Georgina, Oscar and Augustus. These will help.’

Mason and I peered over our knees and into the box, in which sat a mound of journals.

‘Are they more diaries?’ asked Mason. ‘Do all of these belong to Georgina?’

Eliza nodded. ‘All of them are hers. She was very prolific.’

My hand grabbed at Mason’s leg. ‘Oh, my goodness.’

Eliza examined both of us in turn. ‘I feel as though I know everything about them. So much so, I often feel like I’m intruding into their special moments whenever I read them.’

Mason gestured to the journals. ‘So, you’ve read all of them?’

‘I have indeed.’

‘Tell us,’ I pleaded. ‘Please, Eliza.’

Eliza paused and after the briefest of smiles reached one hand into the box and from near the bottom of the pile tugged out a faded beige diary with yellowing pages.

She ran one age-dotted hand across its surface, the creases and indentations in the leather rising and falling under her fingertips. The late-afternoon sun slid through the front window and cast a shadow on her powdered oval face. Then she leafed to some pages where a flowery bookmark protruded and started to read.

10 June 1796

‘Gideon! Is that you?’

Oscar’s expression lit up like a firework when he saw Gideon grinning at him from behind a tree.

I rushed towards him across the grass, too, my lace skirts swishing. ‘What are you doing here?’ I gasped, my heart thudding against my bodice. ‘It is too dangerous.’

Gideon raised one dark eyebrow. ‘Are you not pleased to see me, my love?’

I drank in the contours of his face, and those melting brown eyes that made my heart swoop. It was so strange yet delightful not to see them concealed behind his scarlet mask. ‘What a silly question. Of course, I am. But do you not realise what you are risking by being here?’

Ten-year-old Oscar was standing by my side now. ‘We shan’t tell anyone, shall we, Mother?’

Gideon took a playful step backwards to appraise my growing son. ‘And who is this strapping young man by your side?’