“Hmph.” Without another word, he stalked back to his car and took off like the furies of hell were on his tail, his tires spinning and spitting gravel onto the wet road.
By the time she got to Dunmuir and walked into the inn, she was colder than a polar bear’s butt after sitting on a glacier, and filthier than a three year old making mud pies. Nearly dying had left her more than a little on edge; however, all that mattered was that she hadn’t missed her appointment with Callum MacCraigh. She even had enough time to get ready and collect her thoughts.
“Here, sit by the fire and get yerself warmed up.” Mrs. Gordon, a motherly type in her sixties, tried to steer her towards the chair, but Cat shook her head no.
“I’m filthy and don’t want to get your sofa dirty. I’ll be fine once I get cleaned up.” The thought of soaking in a hot tub sent goose bumps crawling across her skin. She quickly signed the papers that were put in front of her, not wanting to delay that bath any more than she had to.
“Aye, of course. The room has an en suite, but be sure to let me know if you need anything else. If you set aside your laundry, I’ll be happy to have it done for you.” She handed Cat the key to her room. “It’ll be the second floor on the left. Follow it to the end.”
“Thank you.”
So far from any major city, the inn was larger than she’d imagined, and had been recently renovated with a modern feel that still gave a nod to its history and past. It was a pretty seaside town that saw its share of tourists in the summer, though most only came for daily excursions to see the standing stones not far from town.
She let herself into the room, abandoned her things by the bed, and headed straight for the bath. Her knees practically went weak at the sight of the tub. It was deep and jetted, and the water was plenty hot. Fighting with her wet clothes as the tub filled, she finally managed to pry them off, leaving them abandoned in a filthy heap on the tile floor. Not bothering to grab a book, she slipped into the hot water, her skin burning from the extremes in temperature, her body yet to thaw.
By the time she’d scrubbed herself clean and let the heat of the water soak through to her bones, she felt like herself again. Excitement bubbled within her, knowing she might soon have access to records few had seen before. She just needed to find more concrete information on where the jewels were hidden. Tansy, her research assistant, would be beside herself if she actually managed to find them. Cat knew better than to trust her colleagues with such a find, but Tansy was the one exception.
With her makeup and hair done, Cat slipped on her dark boot-legged jeans and cashmere sweater, the robin’s egg blue of her top playing against her dark mahogany locks. Casual, but put together.
With the address plugged into the GPS in her car, it wasn’t long before she found herself at her destination and pulling down a long gravel drive. The home could have graced any postcard or travel brochure, quintessentially Scottish with its stone walls and embattlements, harkening to a time long gone.
She climbed the granite steps of the manor to its front door, letting the heavy knocker drop against the brass plate. Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she waited, but it didn’t take long for someone to answer. An older gentleman stood before her, his blue eyes keen and a giant scruffy dog at his side.
“You must be Ms.—pardon me, Dr. Ross. Callum MacCraigh, and this here is Duncan.” He tilted his head towards the grey beast. “Come in, come in.”
“Thank you. And please, call me Catriona—or Cat.” She shook his hand with a smile, and followed behind him.
Excitement sparked as she took in the home, her thoughts running amuck as she imagined hidden clues and secret treasures. Tapestries hung on the walls, as did paintings hundreds of years old. The place felt grand and well-loved, no signs of neglect despite the age.
“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to speak with me.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, my dear. We seldom get visitors, and certainly no one who’d be interested in hearing any of the stories I have to tell.” Callum shrugged, not looking too worried that he didn’t normally have an audience.
Callum led her into the great room, the ceilings high and the wooden beams exposed to add a rustic charm. However, her focus immediately went to the stone fireplace which traveled the height of the entire wall, a roaring fire nestled within. He showed her to a seat close enough to feel the heat of the flames and ward off the damp.
“It gets cold this time of year, and it can be hard to keep this big drafty place warm. I hope you won’t get chilled.”
“This is perfect. Thank you.” When the dog nudged her leg, she gave his head a long scratch. The dog’s ears then perked up and he dashed across the room, taking the corner so fast his legs skidded out from under him on the hardwood floors.