Page 117 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

I processed this revelation. ‘That would have given Augustus something to think about, had he lived to see it: his own son robbing him of his ill-gotten gains to help the local community.’

‘May we take the rest of the journals with us to read?’ asked Mason. ‘I promise to take good care of them and return them when I’ve finished reading.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Eliza. ‘I hoped you would. The more people that know about Gideon and Georgina’s story, the better.’

‘And what of Oscar?’ asked Mason, spellbound. ‘What happened to the boy?’

‘Oscar James Lapley became a celebrated violinist and philanthropist,’ Eliza said with an element of pride. ‘He achieved a great deal but still returned to Port Starr and married a local girl.’ She gave a brief nod. ‘That was when he wasn’t assuming the role of the Scarlet Highwayman – the young pretender.’

‘And did he have a family?’ I asked, hoping that Oscar’s life had been a good one.

‘They had two sons and he passed away at the age of eighty.’

She delved into the box and brought out another of the treasured journals. This one was also leather-bound but was tied with a thin scarlet ribbon. The colour association made a ball gather in my throat.

Eliza tweaked the piece of material. ‘It seems that Oscar’s love of writing journals was something he inherited from his mother.’

‘I’d be interested to know for certain when the Scarlet Highwayman spree finally stopped,’ mused Mason. ‘From the research I’ve done, there were reports of more sightings of him and other robberies conducted well into the mid-eighteen hundreds.’

Eliza rested her papery fingers on top of the diary she was holding. ‘What if I told you that the Scarlet Highwayman resumed his reign in Port Starr until around eighteen fifty?’

Mason’s face broke into an excited smile. ‘One of Oscar’s sons?’

Eliza gave a cheeky wink as I laughed in wonder. ‘It gives a new meaning to the phrase “keeping it in the family”, doesn’t it?’

Chapter Forty-Nine

‘Ithink I fancy Italian tonight,’ murmured Mason into my ear. ‘How about you?’

I locked the door to the annexe and straightened the emerald-green scooped-neck dress I’d changed into. The sky was changing into a halo of red and amber, and the clouds were like billowing sails. I pulled my cream jacket a little tighter around myself.

‘That sounds wonderful. After all the drama of today, all I want to do is enjoy some wonderful food and a glass of wine.’

‘And gaze into the eyes of a handsome, dashing historian.’

‘Well, I would do, if I knew of any handsome, dashing historians.’

Mason pulled a sarcastic face. His brow creased as he continued to study me. ‘Why have you got one hand behind your back like that?’

I smiled shyly and produced two sets of red roses, tied together. I’d bought them at the local florists that afternoon and secured them with strands of yellow and blue to reflect the branding colours of the cottages.

‘Is this your not-so-discreet way of telling me you’d like to visit the cemetery first?’

‘If that’s all right.’ I smiled, batting my eyelashes at him.

Mason raised my chin with one finger and gave me a lingering kiss. ‘You’re such an old romantic.’

‘Thanks for the “old” part.’

I watched as he pulled his mobile from his trouser pocket. ‘Let me just check that burial website for the location of Georgina’s grave.’ He logged onto the site he used and after a few moments, held up the screen. ‘I’ve found it. Come on.’

Mason’s car reflected the melting colours of the sleepy sky as we arrived at the old iron gate to Port Starr cemetery. He slipped his arm around my shoulders, and we made our way towards Georgina Lapley’s final resting place first.

Mason referred again to the location on his website and once we’d turned right, he pointed at an arched stone near the far wall. ‘I think that’s it.’

In comparison to Gideon’s, it verged on the opulent. Once marble-white, it was now tarnished by the years and fierce weather but still possessed a grand aura. The main section of the stone was oval, rather like a mirror and was surrounded by ornate scrollwork and carvings of leaves.

The inscription read: