“You will find out the truth soon enough.” Lachlan handed him the key. “Keep that safe.”
“Aye.”
“I shall away to my post in the chill night air guarding your people. You return to that lovely warm fireside in your bedchamber. Think of me freezing my arse off while you sleep.”
Jock laughed, slapping the old man on the back before heading out of the tavern. He returned through the gate, heading back to the keep.
So there was a document that gave Robin the legal rights to the clan’s money? His signature was upon it. What did that mean?
He could only wait and see what Lachlan dug up. In the meantime, he would try and work out the best way to raise the issue with his father. He would not spend the night thinking about Daisy.
He kept his vow until he climbed into bed a short time later, his eyes settling on the box she’d brought him, the key under his pillow.
He went to sleep thinking of her.
Chapter Five
If Daisy had known the type of hospital she’d have ended up in, she never would have gone anywhere near the box.
It was Tuesday morning and she was still trying to get Jock MacGregor out of her mind. He’d accompanied her wherever she went since she got back from his castle.
She had nearly driven herself mad trying not to think about him. What had he said that was niggling at her? She went to sleep wondering.
She woke up at three o’clock on Tuesday morning with the answer. She sat bolt upright in the darkness, the only sound that of the humming refrigerator downstairs.
He’d said she’d only been gone a couple of hours. How had she not noticed that at the time?
She already knew the answer to that one. She’d been too busy trying not to melt into a puddle at the sight of him looming over her, fury etched into his face as he glared at her for the second time in a week.
Tabby might have said he was eccentric but it was much more than that. He had no concept of time. She’d gone up there on Friday and then again on Monday and he thought she’d only been gone a couple of hours?
Was it dementia? He seemed young for that but she had read of some unfortunate cases of mental decline in the younger generation.
She smiled. Mental decline wasn’t just something that happened to other people. Here she was was sitting upright in bed at five past three in the morning thinking about a man she was never going to see again.
She settled back down slowly and when she finally got up to start the day a few hours later, she did her best to wipe him from her mind. He kept intruding like an itch but she kept refusing to think about scratching it.
She was downstairs early and when Tabby finally got out of bed, she found Daisy wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa, scrolling through the classifieds on her cellphone, looking for the dream job she knew was out there. Historical themed bakery requires chef. Pay eight million a year. That would do.
Failing that any job would suffice. Being unemployed was demoralizing, especially after passing through university with seemingly nothing to show for it but a certificate in a frame and a debt the size of a small country’s GDP.
“You’re up early,” Tabby said as she shuffled in, blowing her nose as she came. “Did my sneezing wake you?”
“No, I just couldn’t sleep.”
“What you looking at?” Tabby asked, heading through to the kitchen. “Tea?”
“Make it a coffee and I’ll give you one guess.”
“If you’re still job hunting I have an idea.”
“What?”
The sound of the kettle being filled temporarily stopped the conversation. A moment later, Tabby appeared in the doorway once more, peeling a banana as she talked. “You could become a courier like me.”
“With my sense of direction? I’d get lost just getting to the depot.”
“Well, for one thing, you made it to MacGregor Castle and back without crashing off a cliff. For another, there’s always plenty of work going.”
