It wasn’t like she could afford to pick and choose from dozens of job offers. Dropping out of university when her mom got ill meant her qualifications weren’t many.
She might be able to identify a piece of pottery from five hundred years ago but that was about as useful as her wood carving skills. There wasn’t exactly a lot of call for a whittler in Stirling city center.
With the book back in her bag, she locked up and ran for the bus stop, making it just in time.
She dug the book back out once she was safely onboard, returning to the chapter about Tavish’s trial. The writer had skill, describing it in such detail that she felt as if she were right there, watching it all unfold before her eyes.
The murdered princess was heir to the throne. King Alexander III had died in 1286, leaving his thirteen-year-old granddaughter to rule Scotland. She traveled from Norway to Scotland to marry but made the mistake of stopping at Sinclair Castle on the way. Tavish saw a chance to take the throne of the entire country and tossed her out of a castle window to fall to her death.
She could picture the trial, defiance in the accused’s eyes as he raged at them all for catching him. The people watching in angry silence as he denied having anything to do with the crime.
Fingal Sinclair attempted to defend his son but there was no way of ignoring the evidence. The locket was missing, the princess had been seen going up to Tavish’s room before falling to her death. It wasn’t hard to work out who’d killed her.
Tavish was found guilty of course, told he was lucky the laird was merciful, he was to be banished rather than executed. The laird knew what he was doing though, banishment was a punishment worse than death in a time when it was believed outlaws could never enter heaven.
The bus reached her stop. Cramming the book back in her bag, she headed outside into the driving rain. It was only when the bus vanished around the corner that she remembered she’d left her jacket inside.
She waved at the bus to stop but it was already long gone. “Fantastic,” she said out loud, hunching her shoulders as the torrential downpour began to soak through her uniform.
By the time she made it to Sinclair House, she was freezing cold and soaking wet. Her teeth chattered as she pushed open the front door and walked down the passage to the only inhabitable room in the entire place.
Her mom sat in front of the makeshift desk, a flickering candle next to her as she hunched over the old plans of the building.
“Hi, Mom,” Lindsey said, standing on the hearth, letting her clothes drip onto the enormous slab under her feet. “Electric shorted out again?”
“There’s a towel behind you somewhere,” Rhona said looking at her half-drowned daughter.
Lindsey dug through the boxes to find it. “How’s it going?” she asked as she rubbed her hair dry, dust falling from the rough towel into her eyes.
“The bank’s been on the phone again. They’re running out of patience.” Rhona sighed, rubbing her eyes, suddenly looking every single one of her fifty years. “I don’t know, Lindsey. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought this place.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve made a lot of progress.”
“One room we can live in, no electricity and no money to do anything about it? Yeah, I’m quite the shrewd property developer.”
“You’ve done a lot. All the ivy’s gone. There’s a staircase that’s not seen the light of day for hundreds of years and now we can use it to get started on the bedrooms thanks to you. That’s not nothing.”
“Sadly, the bank doesn’t take ivy removal in lieu of hard currency.”
“Let’s eat something. You’ll feel better for it.”
“Good idea. Lend me twenty quid and I’ll go pick up a pizza.”
“Toast is fine.”
“You didn’t get paid?”
She winced, feeling her mom’s eyes boring into her, knowing what that look meant. “He’s going to pay me tomorrow.”
“How long’s he been saying that? You’ve not been paid right since you started that job. He’s taking you for a ride.”
“I know but he promised he’d pay me tomorrow.”
“Hang on, I thought you were going with me to see the scaffolders tomorrow.”
“I was but they’re short staffed. I couldn’t say no.”
Rhona looked like she was about to say something but then she shook it away. “Never mind. I’ll make us some tea.”
