I swallow hard, my voice suddenly hoarse. “No. I know.” My father’s a brutal man, and I’ve seen the way my family deals with spies. I’ve seen it firsthand. My father tends to favor the barbaric “eye for an eye” philosophy, but he always takes things a step further.
If you steal from him, he cuts off your fingers. Do it a second time, and you lose a hand. Snitch on the family, he’ll have your tongue cut out. See something you shouldn't, and you lose an eye. Though I’ve been kept ignorant of the actual workings of the Aitkens Clan, there’s no way to remain completely ignorant of his violent methods.
“I suppose if there were a spy spilling all on the pages of a romance novel, there’d be hell to pay, wouldn’t there?”
“Aye,” Cairstina says quietly. “There would be.”
“But we couldn’t betray someone who wrote such beautiful stories, could we, Bryn?” Islan asks. Does she know the person, then? Or think she does?
“Of course not.” I shake my head. “Never.”
“So we don’t exactly know who it is,” Islan continues. “But we know for certain that she lives in Inverness.”
I blink in surprise. “Honest to God?”
“Aye.”
“Wow. How do you know that?”
“First, the bookstore in Inverness centre is always the first to stock the books.Always.They don’t even arrive online until they’ve come here first. Our search online tells us that while everyone else is looking for the next copy, those that shop in town get the first.”
I nod. “Okay….”
“Second, there are things only a resident of Inverness would evenknow,” Islan says. “Like the way you get a bottle of Irn Bro on the house to cure a hangover, and how the only place to staydry when it’s raining and you’re outside is under the trellis of trees by the train station.”
All my mates and I know this, aye.
She continues. “And then… well, there’s some of the lingo. Like instead of calling the little tea shop in town theshopwe call itcuppa,but only the locals know that.” She giggles. “And the author knows exactly where by the Castle View you can find a private place to snog.”
I giggle at this particular wee tidbit. “Useful information, that,” I mutter, and they laugh right along with me.
“Okay, so it’s someone who lives nearby. That much we can agree on. But if this person reallyisspying on you, how would they get close enough to even know anything? How do you know it isn’t just straight fiction?”
Islan shakes her head. “Because there are too many details. Way too fuckin’ many. You’ll see, once you read them.”
“Even Leith’s read them,” Cairstina says. “And he doesn’t like it one bit. I’m afraid he’s even considered sussing out the writer, but I’ve done my best to dissuade him.” She frowns. “Hate the idea of a woman like us being punished or worse.”
Flora sighs. “I’ll be back, lassies.” She gives me a smile. “Nice to meet you, Bryn, and I hope to see you again.”
She takes her leave. I wonder if she’s caught somewhere in the middle with the opinions about the books.
Nan nods from where she sits. “Romance novels are the heart of a good, proper view on a woman’s sexuality,” she announces, earning guffaws and flushed cheeks from her granddaughters. She ignores them. “And those boys have plenty of things to dowithout worrying about such trivial things. Now, then, lassie, go on and read them so we can gush about them, aye?”
She winks at me, and I laugh.
“Aye, I’m looking forward to it. For now, I have to go find Mac, though. There’s something I need to discuss with him.”
Namely, how I get back into town to get the dress so I can finish it. I also need to figure out what I’m going to do with my bodyguard.
I leave them and go to the main hallway, when I hear someone. I find one of the staff dusting just outside of Islan’s room. How odd. There doesn't seem to be any particular reason why she's here. It looks clean out here, nothing but a few framed prints on the wall, and a couple of end tables. When she sees me, she starts, and I watch as she puts a little notebook back in her pocket. She casts a furtive glance my way, and I nod back.
Did she hear that conversation we were having in the other room? Does she know anything about these books the girls are speaking of?
“Hello, there,” I say to her, but she doesn’t turn to speak to me or even look my way. “Hello!”
She takes off at a run. Does she have something to do with the mystery that surrounds these books? I’ll mention it to Mac and see what he has to say about it. It's all a wee bit disconcerting.
As I walk down the hall to the stairwell, I hear Mac’s dad’s voice. I immediately freeze. Everybody else I've met has been welcoming and kind. He's the only one who knows me for who I am, the only one I need to completely avoid because if anyone will see through my scheme, he will.
