How did she know that?
Izzy nodded.
‘It’s good to shop local. We’ve a nice line in jigsaws. Always good to do when it’s dreich. You would nae want your guests to be bored.’ Her beady eyes bored into Izzy expectantly and Izzy found herself inspecting the display of jigsaws crammed in one corner.
‘That’s a popular one with visitors,’ said Mrs McPherson, materialising at Izzy’s elbow and pointing to a kilted bagpipe player on a lonely hillside before handing it to her. ‘And Edinburgh Castle is always a favourite.’ Somehow Izzy found herself with two jigsaws tucked under one arm.
‘And you’ll be wanting local soap in the downstairs bathroom, I ken. Wild Nettle and Heather. Handmade, it is. And there’s a hand cream too. Make nice stocking fillers. Do you want to take a couple?’
Izzy nodded, feeling as if she’d been hypnotised, and watched as Mrs McPherson put four soaps and four hand creams into a basket for her.
‘There you go,’ she said, handing the basket over. Thankfully the bell on the door of the post office dinged just then, offering reprieve. ‘I’ll leave you to browse. We’ve a nice line in Christmas cards. I’m sure you’ll be wanting some of those.’ The post mistress gave her a shark-like smile before scurrying off to greet her next victim.
Ross raised an eyebrow at her bulging shopping bag when he met her twenty minutes later. ‘Would you like me to take that for you? I thought you only wanted a couple of things.’
‘I’ve been McPhersoned.’ Izzy shook her head. ‘It’s like she puts some sort of spell on you and you have to buy everything she suggests. I couldn’t say no as I need to stay on the right side of her.’
‘Yes, I get the feeling she’s the unofficial linchpin of the village. You upset her, you upset the whole village.’
‘I can’t afford to do that as I’m hoping that she’ll send more guests my way. Did you get what you wanted in the library?’
‘Yes. What did she persuade you to buy?’ He peered into one of the bags. ‘Jigsaws?’
‘Yes, apparently my guests are going to love them. I hadn’t thought about entertainment. She also made me buy a couple of packs of playing cards and a cribbage set.’
‘Made you?’ teased Ross.
‘Honestly, she’s terrifying.’ Izzy laughed, relieved that things seemed to be back to normal with him.
The walk home passed in easy conversation and when they turned into the castle drive she gave herself a metaphorical pat on the back. Thank goodness she hadn’t let her imagination run away with her and leaned up to kiss him as she would have made a right fool of herself. They were friends, nothing more.
‘Izzy.’ Ross stopped walking and she turned to face him, puzzled by the sudden uncertainty in his voice. ‘I … I wondered if you still wanted a lift to Edinburgh.’
She blushed slightly, remembering their awkward conversation.
‘Er, yes, if that’s okay.’
‘Of course, it’s okay.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘I’m sorry if I implied that I didn’t want your company the other day, it was just…’ His eyes softened as he looked at her. ‘Well, I … I wasn’t thinking properly.’
‘Well, if you really don’t mind, it would be a big help.’
‘Great. That’s sorted then.’ He reached out and touched her hand. ‘I really am sorry if I upset you.’
‘No, no, not at all,’ Izzy said a little too brightly. He stepped towards her and she sucked in a quick breath as their eyes met. But suddenly the engine of a car interrupted and a taxi came past them, bumping its way down the single-track drive.
Izzy frowned and watched the car’s red tail lights as they disappeared.
‘Visitors? Guests?’ asked Ross.
‘I’ve no idea. I’m not expecting anyone.’
Chapter Twelve
There was a battered suitcase sitting in the hallway by the fireplace, along with a laptop bag and a rectangular, black, hard plastic case. Izzy huffed out a breath and hurried towards the sitting room where she could hear voices. Ross followed her, which suddenly seemed completely normal. After all, he was as much a part of the house now as anyone else.
‘Izzy, darling. Come and meet Godfrey. You remember, the friend I mentioned.’ Xanthe held out an arm with a flourish, indicating a middle-aged, earnest-looking man with rimless glasses that gave him an air of ruthless efficiency. He stroked a neat goatee beard while studying the painting of Isabella wearing the sapphire necklace.
‘Godfrey’s come to help us. He’s an expert in Scottish history and is going to help us find the sapphires. He’s a professional treasure hunter. He’s going to be staying with us tonight and tomorrow night.’
