Rhona guessed what she was thinking. “Iona is already expecting you. I rang her this morning. I’ll drop the keys off for you, might even be able to pick your pay up while I’m at it. It’ll be here when you get back. Go and relax for a couple of days. Fall in love, drink lots of tea, go swimming in the loch. Not necessarily in that order.”
“I can’t swim, remember.”
“Then go rowing on the loch. See if there’s some Highlander up there with a huge-”
“Mom!”
“Wallet. I was going to say wallet. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
* * *
The next evening Lindsey settled into the lounge of the Bed and Breakfast, picking up the photos of Tavish’s house that had fallen out of the book. They’d taken them with the old Polaroid camera, cramming them into the dust jacket of the book before forgetting about them.
She sat curled up in the chair by the window, reading her mom’s book with the water of the loch lapping at the shore just a few feet away outside. As she turned the page the photos fell out.
Mrs. Campbell shuffled in, carrying a tray of tea things. Lindsey nodded to her, shoving the photos into the pocket of her jeans.
“Dinnae let it go cold,” she said as she walked in.
“Thank you,” Lindsey replied, putting the book down on the little table beside the chair.
“History o’ the Sinclairs,” Mrs. Campbell said, nodding toward the cover. “Good book. Was an awfa shame what happened to that wee princess. Tavish must have been a wicked brute to kill such an innocent girl.”
“My mom says he didn’t do it.”
“Does she indeed? She must ken something I dinnae. If it wasnae for him slaughtering wee Margaret we’d never have gone tae war? Does she ken that?”
Lindsey frowned. “I don’t think I’ve reached that bit yet.”
“When Margaret was killed, two men fought over who should be king. There was John Balliol and Robert the Bruce. They bickered so long Edward came up from England to choose for them. Only he’d not dae it until they bowed down tae him first. Balliol would and the Bruce wouldnae. So Balliol gets the throne and the Bruce rallies anyone who wouldnae bow tae the English.
“Five years later the whole country is at war, half beside Bruce and half with Balliol and thousands dead all because Tavish wanted tae be laird and that wee lassie got in his way. The man was, and I dinnae like to use the word, scum. Only way tae describe one such as he. And I hear Rhona went and bought his house. Why would she want to do something so daft?”
“She heard it was going to be demolished and she-”
Mrs. Campbell interrupted her. “Belonged to a killer. Demolition is what it deserves.” Her look darkened for a moment before her smile returned. “Oh look, the sun’s out. You should go rowing, get some air intae your lungs.”
“I’m happy reading, thanks.”
“Take the book with you.”
“I’d love to but I can’t swim. What if I fall out?”
“Just stay near the shore. It’s shallow enough to walk back in if you capsize.”
“But my tea, it’ll get cold.”
“Och, dinnae worry. I’ll make a fresh batch. You never ken how long the sun might stay out up here. Make the most of it while you can. You get out on the water. Your ma always loved rowing out there. I know you’ll love it tae.”
Lindsey wanted to refuse but couldn’t bear hurting the old woman’s feelings. Mrs. Campbell led her out of the guesthouse and down to the boat.
Lindsey glanced along the shore. A man was standing about twenty feet away, looking out at the loch, mist swirling around his ankles. He had a red tartan baldric across his bare chest and looked every inch the medieval Highlander in black trousers that clung to him, spear in his hand pointed toward the water.
“Who’s that?” Lindsey asked. “He looks like he’s just walked off the set of Outlaw King.”
“I cannae see anyone,” Mrs. Campbell replied, looking over the top of her glasses. “Though I’ve been meaning to get another eye test.”
Lindsey looked again but there was no one there. Just the mist growing thicker despite the sun high in the sky. “I could have sworn I saw-”
