Page 65 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

Once she’d disappeared out into the late-afternoon sunshine, I flopped my elbows down on the desk.

June was bringing with it lengthy tangerine evenings and gilded skies that looked as though they’d been rinsed in gold paint.

‘Let’s finish a bit earlier this evening.’

Katie eyed me with surprise.

‘I just want to go home and collapse in the bath with a glass of wine.’

She gave me a concerned glance.

‘Really, I’m fine,’ I assured her through a tight smile.

She gathered her things. ‘I’ll ring you later,’ she promised. ‘And don’t let that idiot Lapley get to you.’

Once she’d gone, I surveyed the cottages from the office window with a growing sense of foreboding.

A lump collected at the base of my throat. All those sweet little cottages now emboldened and with their own unique identities; they could be gone, before they even had a chance to become established.

Then a flame of anger fired up inside of me. Katie and I had put in too much time and effort to just simply roll over. Hopefully, tomorrow, things would seem calmer and clearer, and I’d feel in a better position to figure out what I should do next.

I wandered over to the spotlights and switched them off, plunging the office into dark shadow. I reached behind the desk for my bag.

From behind me, a hissing sound made me jump.

I whirled around to see a figure clad in black outside. He was bent double in front of the office door and seemed to be pushing something underneath it.

Was it him again? The man Mason and I had spotted lurking by his car that time? The same person at the cottages relaunch who’d thrust the diary at him. I called out a frightened ‘Hey!’ and the startled stranger leaped backwards. He yanked his floppy hood further over his features. I could just make out the tilt of a thin nose and a snatch of pale forehead.

He made off across the cobbles, and I snatched up the piece of paper from the floor. Then I darted outside, but just like before, he’d gone as though he’d melted into the salty sea air.

I hurried back into the office, banging the door shut and securing it behind me.

The cream-coloured paper crackled between my nervous fingers. I opened it, and my eyes darted over its brief contents.

I read over the message a few times. What on earth did that mean?

Chapter Thirty

20 JUNE 1793

‘Noah Gains, Bernard Forster, Stanley Coolidge and Archibald Porter,’ I read aloud to Harris. I passed him the list of names. ‘These are the four gentlemen who are seeking employment with us as Master Oscar’s violin tutor.’

I watched his warm eyes scan the sheet of pale-cream writing paper. ‘Very well, madam. I must say, all four have prestigious reputations.’

He turned to go, his dark coattails flapping out of the door. Then he stopped. ‘What time is the first gentleman expected?’

‘Mr Gains has been instructed to arrive for ten o’clock. Would you mind preparing morning tea, please?’

‘Certainly, madam.’

I had selected one of my more formal outfits for the occasion: a square-necked cream-and-black gown, sprigged with leaves and roses. My blonde hair was pulled away from my face in spools of tight curls and fastened with a long black velvet ribbon.

As I would be conversing with the gentlemen about possible employment, I wished to appear confident and articulate, with an air of capability. However, I did feel somewhat nervous inside.

I had instructed Oscar to enter the drawing room at a given time during each of the four discussions, so that he could also have his say on who would be recruited. After all, the successful gentleman would be his music tutor.

‘Deploy your best acting skills,’ I insisted to him through a mischievous smile. ‘Please knock on the door and say that you have mislaid your wooden toy soldier. I shall be seated in my usual chair and shall give it to you.’