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‘Lady Pamela?’ Kirsten interrupted in astonishment. ‘Why would she have anything to do with the loss of her own jewellery?’
Jeanie grimaced. ‘I first smelt a rat when Lady Posh came over all nice and asked you to work for her. She’s never been a nice person. But if she did stitch you up, I can’t imagine why or how she did it—and I bet you won’t ever be able to prove it. She’s a clever one.’
Kirsten bowed her head, thinking of all that Jeanie did not know, and all she did not feel able to tell her. Yes, she acknowledged, she had annoyed Pamela Anstruther by staring at Shahir. But that had just been a little thing, hadn’t it? It would be fantastical to suspect that Pamela would deliberately set her up to be falsely accused of theft, sacked and discredited. Yet it did not make any more sense to Kirsten that Morag Stevens would have stolen the pendant, only to conceal it in someone else’s locker.
Kirsten’s head spun when she attempted to come up with a viable explanation for what she had initially assumed had to be a ghastly misunderstanding or a case of mistaken identity.
‘What are you going to do?’ Jeanie prompted.
A light switched on in the dark turmoil of Kirsten’s thoughts: she would make use of that business card and phone Shahir. She seized on the solution like a drowning swimmer. He would not let her be blamed for something she had not done. He would never believe that she was a thief. If he insisted, the matter would have to be more fully investigated and then surely the truth would emerge.
‘Your dad will go bonkers if he finds out you’ve been done for theft,’ Jeanie said worriedly.
‘It’s Friday. I have the weekend to tell him,’ Kirsten mumbled, but her stomach was churning at the very idea.
‘Kirsten, you can’t tell him. You can’t take the risk. No offence intended, but your dad can act like a bit of a nutter. Why don’t you come home with me?’
The minibus that ferried castle employees back to the village every day was now with in sight.
‘I couldn’t possibly—’
Jeanie gripped her arm for emphasis. ‘You can always phone me. You’re welcome any time of the day or night. My dad won’t mind you staying with us.’
Kirsten got home as quickly as she could. Breathless, she hurried up to her bedroom, removed the small gilded card from below the mattress and hurried back downstairs to dial Shahir’s mobile phone.
When Shahir answered the call, she hurtled straight into speech. Maybe he had already been told about the pendant, but she was praying that he had not and that her version of events would be the first he heard.
‘I have to see you…it’s urgent.’
There was a brief moment of silence before he suggested that they meet in an hour’s time at the viewpoint which lay about half a mile from her home.
She took strength from the fact that his rich dark drawl sounded the same as usual.
His lean, strong face austere, Shahir set down his phone.
CHAPTER SIX
FROM the viewpoint there was a spectacular panorama of the glen of Strathcraig and the mountains. Surrounded by dense forest, the turreted castle looked like a fairytale palace in a sunlit glade. On the valley floor the water of the loch gleamed as still and as blue as a tear-shaped sapphire.
The silence rushed in Kirsten’s ears, and then she heard the faint recognisable purr of a car engine climbing the hill. A couple of minutes later the limousine pulled in to the parking area.
Kirsten started to speak before she even got inside the vehicle. ‘I know you must be wondering why I contacted you—’
‘No. I am aware of what occurred this afternoon.’ Shahir rested impassive dark eyes on her, his absolute calm and composure intimidating her. For a moment it seemed as if the intimacy they had shared earlier that day might never have happened.
That cool, level tone made Kirsten lose colour. ‘I didn’t take that pendant.’
Shahir shifted a lean brown hand in a silencing gesture. ‘Although I could not condone theft in any circumstances, I do understand why you did it.’
Kirsten stiffened. ‘But I didn’t do it!
‘Kirsten…I myself witnessed what was probably your first attempt to steal from Lady Pamela.’
Totally taken aback by that astounding claim, Kirsten whispered, ‘My first attempt? What are you talking about?’
His bronzed profile took on a grim cast. ‘I am referring to the brooch that mysteriously reappeared after Pamela had already conducted a search for it. You luckily found it. Possibly you took fright when she so quickly noticed that the brooch had gone missing and you decided to replace it.’
Her brow had furrowed, an expression of consternation blossoming in her can did gaze. ‘Are you saying that you thought I was only pretending to have found the brooch?’
