Page 39 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

Alicia approached and beckoned us with a flap of her hand. ‘Before we go, I’d like to get a photo of you two ladies and Caleb standing by the cottages, if you don’t mind.’

She arranged us in front of the revamped cottages, their glossy, newly painted front doors shining in the sun. She insisted we clasp champagne flutes, and the atmosphere was languid with relaxed, jovial ambience.

I spotted Jenny and Maisie, the cottage cleaners, drifting through the crowd and beckoned them to come over and join us for the picture. They were every bit a part of the White Willow Cottages team, too.

While Alicia arranged the five of us, I kept my attention turned away from Mason’s gaze. Even though I could feel his eyes on me, I set my shoulders and managed a bright, wide smile.

Alicia angled her camera upwards a little, so that the sunshine-yellow-and-sea-blue banner proclaiming ‘White Willow Cottages’ was clearly visible strung along the courtyard wall in front of us. She took several shots and was about to leave, when she spotted Mason chatting to George.

‘Who’s that tall, dark-haired guy over there?’

‘Where?’ I asked, knowing full well whom she was staring at.

‘There. Standing with the gent in the tweed jacket. The one in the white shirt and grey silky waistcoat.’

‘Oh, you mean Mason Cooper,’ I said, feigning surprise. ‘He’s in Port Starr researching the Scarlet Highwayman. He’s a historian.’

Alison stared hungrily in his direction. ‘Is he now?’ Her lips parted. ‘Right. I see.’ She leaned in a little closer, smoothing down her shoulder-length pale-blonde hair. ‘I might go over and say hi. You know, just to be neighbourly.’

I watched with a twist of irritation as she removed her fitted jacket, hooked it over her shoulder and sashayed towards Mason. ‘Good luck,’ I mumbled under my breath. ‘You’re currently fourth in the queue.’

It was at that moment that a blur of black chose to linger in my line of sight. I was too preoccupied with the local newspaper photographer offering to show Mason her flash softbox to take much notice at first. It wasn’t until I realised that a figure was streaking past me and heading straight towards an unsuspecting Mason that my heart seized.

Chapter Twenty

It was as though I was watching through treacle as the figure lurched at Mason. Whoever it was, they were conspicuous with their dark hoodie pulled right up and over their features. All I could see was a fleeting glimpse of a jutting white chin.

Mason appeared bemused for a few seconds at the sight of the sinister stranger rushing towards him.

What on earth was going on? Was this person intent on hurting Mason?

The figure plunged one hand into their scruffy jogging bottoms.

My imagination pulled up images of a weapon. Before I could think or assess the situation, the words ‘Look out, Mason!’ rang out of my mouth and I clattered forward in my heels, pushing myself against the perpetrator’s bony shoulder.

A chorus of gasps went up from the assorted crowd.

Doing my superhero impression in my strappy summer shoes, however, wasn’t the most sensible decision I’d ever made. The good news was that I surprised Mason’s attacker every bit as much as I surprised myself. He staggered in his navy trainers, before recovering his balance and taking off across the grass and down the sloping hill towards Port Starr, with a yelling Caleb bounding after him.

The bad news was that my heel had caught between the cobbles and I was destined to crash to the ground in a most unladylike fashion – until Mason seized me in his arms, elbowing an alarmed Alicia out of the way.

‘He’s gone,’ panted Caleb on his return. ‘He took off down towards the harbour at a fair old lick.’

I could hear my brother’s voice drifting towards me, but I was still cradled in Mason’s strong arms, gazing up into his concerned face. He smelled deliciously of sandalwood.

Mason drank in my features. Our mouths were inches apart. I was like Scarlett O’Hara, swooning and helpless in the arms of Rhett Butler.

Then I remembered where I was. I recalled the other women he’d been escorting. Cold reality took hold and I wriggled out of his grasp. I brushed myself down, too embarrassed to look at the intrigued faces. ‘Who the hell was that?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ faltered Mason, still looking at me. ‘I couldn’t see his face.’ He straightened his waistcoat. ‘Are you all right?’

I snatched a steadying breath and smoothed down my rumpled shirt dress. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

Alicia hovered for a moment, watching. When Mason gave her a polite smile but turned his attention back to me, her mouth flatlined. ‘I’ll be off, then,’ she mumbled, slinging her camera back around her neck. ‘See you around.’

He took a step closer to examine me. He placed both hands on my bare upper arms. His fingers felt like they were melting into my skin.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, locking eyes with me.