“That’ll be my son, Iain. I told him you were coming, since he’s studied our family’s history and could be of use to your research. He’s actually the one you should be talking to and will be happy to help you in any way he can.” Callum got to his feet. “Iain, come here, lad.”
She stood and turned to face him, when her smile faded and a furious heat rushed to her face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He squinted as he took her in, and then let out a scoff. “Ah! You clean up well, I’ll give you that. Barely recognized you.”
“You’ve met?” His father looked at the two of them in question, confusion and humor lining his face.
“Aye, Da. But only for a moment and at the time I didn’t realize I had the pleasure of speaking to the esteemed Dr. Ross.” A smug smile tugged at his lips, his blue eyes alight with amusement. He reached out and took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to put a name to the face, since we weren’t properly introduced earlier.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” Cat tried to erase the sarcasm from her voice, but wasn’t sure she was entirely successful. She couldn’t risk jeopardizing everything over a stupid incident.
And then it occurred to her why the bastard looked vaguely familiar. She’d been looking at the MacCraigh clan, but not once had she thought to associate them with the Iain MacCraigh—Scotland’s most eligible bachelor, businessman and playboy extraordinaire. That would teach her to ignore the tabloids. Her mind never put the two together.
“I’ll fetch us a cup of tea.” Iain didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s response, but spun around and headed back out the way he came.
Callum sat back down, and she followed suit. “He’d be my oldest. There’s another son, Malcolm, but he lives in Edinburgh. Comes to visit often enough. And then there’s Moira. She’s away in Paris, though I keep hoping she’ll someday return. Can’t really blame her. There’s not much for the young folk around here, and I’m sure if it weren’t for me and this place, Iain would’ve also left long ago.”
“Is it just the two of you then?” She suspected it might be the case. No one else had poked their head in, and the house had a bit of an empty feel to it.
“Aye, it is. My wife passed a few years back. It’s an awfully big house for just the two of us, but I’m hoping Iain will eventually settle down. It’d be nice to see new life brought into this old place.” He gave her a kind smile. “Enough about me. You came here for a reason, and I doubt it was to hear me rambling ‘bout nothing at all. What is it I can help you with?”
Cat couldn’t tell him the real reason for her research—not yet anyway—though she could skirt the truth. Telling anyone of her plans now would only make it more difficult to keep treasure hunters and other researchers at bay. It was a lesson she’d learned the hard way, and was still furious that her ex had taken all the credit for a past research project when she had done most of the work. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, especially not with a find as important as the Highlander’s Hope.
“My research has led me to believe that your clan may have played more of a role during the Jacobite uprising than most know. I’d like to find definitive proof, but would need access to your clan’s documents and estate.”
The old man’s eye’s brightened with enthusiasm. “Now that’s exciting news, lass. Whatever it is ye need, you can have full access to it. And like I said, Iain will be happy to help ye any way he can.”
Cat somehow doubted that.
As if the mere mention of his name was enough to summon the devil, Iain walked in with a tray of tea and set it down on the table between them, sitting by his father’s side with Duncan at their feet.
Callum turned to his son to give him the good news. “Dr. Ross thinks she’s found evidence of our clan playing a more important role during Culloden than originally believed.”
He looked at her with no love or enthusiasm. “Is that so?”
“It is.” She tried not to be curt with him, but the man seemed to bring out the worst in her. How they’d manage to work together was beyond her. “I’m looking into the history of the Jacobites and, in particular, how funding was raised amongst the clans prior to the arrival of Prince Charles Edward Stewart.”
“I don’t know why ye’d think our clan any different to the others. The majority of the clans this far into the highlands supported the uprising any way they could, despite the little most had to live on.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Given all your fancy degrees, I’d think you’d already know that.”