Page 42 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

I rummaged in my bag and pushed on my pair of smoke-and-gold sunglasses. ‘You’re welcome. Anybody else would have done the same.’

‘No, I don’t think they would have, Poppy.’

There was a stillness to the salt-dotted air.

I gave a nod to the leather folder under his arm. ‘Is it just your sandwiches you’ve got in that zip case?’

Damn. There was that irresistible grin of his again. ‘Usually yes, but today I’ve got Georgina Lapley’s diary and some notes in there.’

‘Have you managed to read any of it? The diary, I mean?’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘And?’

Mason drew in a breath. ‘Indications are the Lapley family have more skeletons in their closet than hangers.’

I experienced a pang of excitement. ‘Like what?’

Mason jerked his dark head. ‘Come on. We need to do some more digging.’

‘How’s Darwin?’ I asked, as we rounded the corner towards his car.

Mason lifted his car keys and directed them at his gleaming vehicle. ‘See for yourself.’

A furry grey-and-white face popped up at the rear window and let out a series of excited barks. Mason popped the back door open and Darwin spilled out in a cascade of shaggy coat.

‘Hello, boy!’ I laughed, dropping down in front of him. He proceeded to lash my hands and face with his strip of pink tongue.

‘You’ve got a real fan there,’ murmured Mason. ‘He can be a bit guarded with new people, but he took to you straightaway.’ Mason opened his mouth as if to say something more and then thought better of it. ‘We’d better go.’

We bundled into Mason’s car. He didn’t switch on the engine straightaway but instead plucked his mobile from his back pocket and pulled up a local historical website, complete with a royal-blue background.

His dark lashes fluttered while he typed. ‘I think we should investigate the Lapley family tree first, going by what I’ve read so far.’

‘Is there any mention of the Scarlet Highwayman in it?’ I asked with a degree of hope.

Darwin sat like a China ornament on the rear seat.

‘Not exactly,’ answered Mason. ‘But there are frequent references to a mystery man.’

‘Could it be him?’ I breathed, watching the intensity swim across his expression. ‘Could it be the Scarlet Highwayman?’

‘I can’t say,’ admitted Mason, a lock of his black hair dangling down onto his brow, which I had the sudden, mad urge to push back for him. ‘But what I can tell you with a degree of certainty is that Georgina Lapley was having an affair with someone.’

‘An affair?’

He nodded, pinning me to the passenger seat with his intense gaze. ‘And from what I understand from her diary, the family were desperate to keep it quiet.’

‘I suppose it was a sign of the times then.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Mason, ‘but how do you explain that they still seem to want it kept under wraps, even today?’

I examined him. ‘How do you know that?’

Mason turned in his driver’s seat and retrieved the diary from the zip case by his feet, easing a piece of paper from the back. ‘Read this. It fell out of the diary earlier today when I took it home.’

I unfolded the crisp note, my attention drawn to the fact that it had been typed. My eyes lurched from the paper to Mason as I greedily read it.