Page 81 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

‘Ah. Well, that’s where you’re wrong.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Good afternoon, Ms Summers, Mr Cooper. Lovely day for it.’

We swung around, our game of verbal tennis interrupted.

Alex Lapley was striding towards us, not in one of his trademark sharp suits, but in a chunky black jumper and dark jeans.

Dismissing Mason with one cast of his pale eyes, he switched his sleazy attention to me. ‘Have you had any more thoughts about our predicament?’

‘What predicament?’ I bit back, the memory of his smug face and that letter reappearing in my mind.

Mason took a step towards Alex on the gravelly path. ‘Are you following us?’

Alex smirked. ‘As flattering as that would be for you, the answer is no.’

‘Then what are you doing up here?’ challenged Mason. His face was uncompromising and Alex tried to disguise his discomfort.

The watery afternoon light glinted behind him. ‘A complete coincidence, I assure you, but a good one nonetheless.’ He whipped his mobile out of his back pocket for a cursory glance. ‘I’m meeting my solicitor to discuss next steps.’

‘Which are?’ challenged Mason.

Alex let out a condescending snort. ‘First rule of business. Keep your enemies guessing.’

‘I’m not an enemy,’ I snapped. ‘I own the cottages.’

‘No,’ Alex replied slowly, as if addressing someone who was slow-witted. ‘You don’t own anything. My family does.’ He glanced down at his chunky TAG Hauer watch with ill-concealed boredom. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me.’

I could see Mason’s shoulders stiffen under the cotton of his shirt. A kaleidoscope of thoughts crossed his face. ‘We know who the Scarlet Highwayman is.’

Mason’s words, wrapped in his deep, Australian accent, made Alex stop.

‘What are you doing?’ I whispered under my breath.

Mason didn’t reply.

Alex turned around, his pointed face a mask of apprehension. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘Am I?’

Alex hovered for a few moments. The sea breeze rippled through the castle battlements and around us. He walked closer, his jaw gritted. ‘What exactly do you know?’

Mason slid me a look. ‘First rule of business,’ he gloated. ‘Keep your enemies guessing.’

Alex’s fair brows bunched together and he grew pale. ‘Very funny.’

‘Oh, it’s not meant to be funny,’ insisted Mason. ‘It’s a fact.’ He stepped forward so that his dark profile was inches away from Alex. ‘We also know that you’re hiding something.’

Alex opened his slack mouth to speak, but Mason’s growl made him think otherwise. ‘If my career as a historian has taught me anything, it’s that past crimes always come back to haunt those who committed them.’

Mason took one of my hands in his and gave it an encouraging squeeze. My heart whipped up a frenzy in my chest.

Alex slid his eyes over both of us. ‘Good luck with that,’ he grunted, before stalking off.

Mason’s fingers tapered down my arms. I could feel them through the net sleeves of my blouse.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.