Finding any information on the necklace would be a long shot, but if she did find it, it might turn out to be the lifeline he needed. If found on their lands, the jewels would belong to his clan, even if it was her find.
A knock at his office door had him looking up. “Da. Are you off to bed then?”
“Aye, in just a bit.” He came in and sat down. “Will you be meeting with the lass again?”
Iain spun his chair around to face his father. “She’s going to come by in the morning to review any information we have from before and after the time of Culloden.”
His father pinned him with a stern look. “I hope you’ll be nicer to her this time around. If I hear you’ve gone and chased her off, I won’t be happy, Iain. Your Ma wouldn’t have tolerated you disrespecting any guest of this house, and I won’t put up with it either. Ye hear?”
“Don’t go worrying yerself, Da. I promise I’ll try to be on my best behavior and not antagonize her.” Iain gave his father a reassuring smile.
Callum had clearly enjoyed Cat’s company. Too often it was just the two of them knocking about the empty house, and Iain was usually busy with work to be of any real company. Luckily, he could get most of his business conducted from home, even if he did have to travel from time to time.
Not yet done, Callum pulled him from his thoughts for another scolding. “I hadn’t realized you’d already met—and by all accounts you weren’t much nicer to her then, either.”
Iain had to laugh, recalling the state of her covered in mud and dripping wet. “Now that wasn’t entirely my fault, though you’re right. I could have been nicer.”
Giving her a bit more thought, Iain continued. “When she spoke to you… did she say what she was looking for?”
“Nae. Nothing more than what she said tonight. Why? What are ye thinking, lad?”
Iain shrugged. “Nothing. I was just curious is all.”
Callum got to his feet. “Just make sure you keep your curiosity honorable, aye? I may be old, and you may have been rude, but I’m not blind. There’s heat between the two of ye, so be sure to behave yerself.”
“She’s pretty, but definitely not my type. Far too uptight and… scholarly.” Iain waved away his father’s concerns, thinking of the proper sweater, her hair tamed up and out of the way with some fancy twist when it was desperate to escape and go wild. All she needed was a pair of glasses and a string of pearls, and she could pass for a librarian.
His father scowled at him, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Aye, ye wouldn’t want someone smart and pretty. You’ve clearly chosen far more wisely in the past.”
Iain shook his head with a smile. “Good night, Da.”
With thoughts of highland treasure and pretty librarians bouncing around his head, Iain headed off to the library with Duncan lazily trailing behind him. With two levels of books, a catwalk for ease of use, a comfortable sofa and a large stone fireplace, this room was easily Iain’s favorite.
Duncan sat in front of the fireplace, and looked at him in question.
“No, Duncan. I’m not building a fire this late at night.”
Duncan responded with a noise that sounded like a cross between a yawn and yelp, followed by a cock of his head as his sad brown eyes attempted to guilt Iain into doing his bidding.
Iain ignored him and wandered to the shelf where they kept the oldest books.
Duncan barked, and then barked again, the noise deafening when backed by the lungs tucked inside that massive chest.
“Seriously, dog?”
He got a rapid thwapping of tail in response. Fully aware the pup would keep bugging him until a fire was lit, Iain quickly got one going with the knowledge he too would enjoy it. The nights were cold this far north, even if it was only October.
With the dog content, Iain wandered back to the bookshelf housing dozens of books dating back ages and generations. It had been years since he last went through them, and though they were in decent shape, he tried not to handle them too often. When he’d gone through them in the past it wasn’t with an eye for finding anything in particular. Now, however, he’d take another look, keeping a keen eye out for any clues that might give up their mystery.
It would likely lead nowhere, but Cat had his curiosity going, and if he was stuck with her snooping around, then he might as well make the most of it. The stories he’d heard regarding the bejeweled necklace had never mentioned his family. So why did she think his clan had been somehow involved? He supposed it could be true—or was she looking for something else.
His ancestors had been loyal Jacobites. Then again, nearly every highland clan had supported the cause of Bonnie Prince Charlie and had wanted him to take back the throne. She had found something—but what? And could the information be trusted? Could she be trusted?