Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
After our visit to the cemetery, Mason suggested we have supper at the Sea Shanty. Its pillared frontage overlooked the harbour, and while not as salubrious as some of the other local eateries that had sprung up over the years, its bar food was delicious.
I chose a booth for us by the floor-to-ceiling window, which looked out onto an arm of rocks that pushed their way into the foamy waves. In the distance, McKerron Castle’s darkening shadows lengthened on the cliff face.
Mason collected two menus and eased himself into the seat opposite me. ‘So,’ he announced with a curious look over the top of his laminated menu, ‘what’s with the fascination with highwaymen, then?’
I studied him. ‘You make me sound like some Regency groupie. If you mean, why am I so interested in the Scarlet Highwayman, I’ve already told you. It’s because I feel a bit sorry for him. He’s not here to defend himself.’
Mason placed his menu down on the wooden table. ‘You really do believe that he’s not capable of these awful things, don’t you?’
I decided on the chicken burger with salad and put my menu down too. ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
He sat back, openly appraising me from under those dark, spiky lashes of his.
‘Don’t you?’ I asked.
He took a moment to consider my question and was about to answer, when a young waiter appeared and took our order. Mason opted for the beef burger with Swiss cheese. Once the waiter had delivered a jug of water to our table and disappeared, Mason said, ‘I try to keep an open mind on things.’
‘Because you’re a historian.’
‘Probably.’ He savoured a long gulp of the ice-cold water. He looked like he was choosing his words. ‘What is it about this guy that you find so attractive, Poppy?’
I bristled at his question. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
He leaned his elbows on the edge of the table. Around us, there was the quiet murmur of conversation, punctuated by the odd bellow of laughter from two fishermen lounging at the bar. His voice was softer. ‘Is it safer to be attracted to someone like him?’
I squirmed, my jeans sticking to the orange plastic seating. ‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’
Mason’s attention slid to my mouth. ‘You don’t give much away, do you?’
A laugh erupted from my chest. ‘And this from the man who refuses to divulge anything about his private life.’
The young waiter reappeared with our food and evaporated again.
‘I don’t refuse,’ said Mason, unfolding his cutlery from a red napkin. He examined me for much longer than I felt he should, his playful expression melting into one more like appreciation. ‘To be honest, I don’t think any man could refuse you anything.’
‘What are you up to?’ I blurted, trying to conjure a casual smile.
‘I’m not up to anything.’
‘Yeah, right.’ I thought again of the two other women Mason had been seen with.
A deep silence embedded itself between us as we began to dig into our respective salads. I tried to concentrate on my supper. The seeded burger was warm and inviting, the chicken was succulent and there was a gorgeous olive oil dressing drizzled over my crunchy salad.
‘I’m assuming that going by your previous comment, Rapunzel would like to know a bit more about Dracula’s past?’
My head snapped up from spearing some lettuce. This was unexpected. ‘Only if you want to,’ I remarked. ‘I mean, there’s no pressure.’
‘Other than the thumbscrews you’ve concealed in your handbag?’
‘I was hoping you wouldn’t notice those.’
Mason took a bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully. ‘Okay, so you know where I used to live and how close I am to my parents. Well, I studied for my history major at the University of Sydney, but like I told you when I first met you, I’ve always been fascinated by European history.’
He then went on to explain that once he had graduated, his persistence paid off. ‘I ended up working in Australia for the History Now TV channel as a researcher, managed to get myself noticed by the right people over here and the rest, as they say, is history.’
‘I bet you’ve used that line before.’
‘Maybe once or twice.’ His eyes twinkled, before becoming more serious.
‘There’s a particular reason why I didn’t want to dwell on my past.’ He placed his knife and fork on the edge of his plate.
His light eyes, like the specks of foam dashing off the cliffs nearby, searched mine. ‘Oh, excuse me for a second.’
He reached into his back pocket and produced his mobile, which had just pinged with a message.
I took another sip of water, trying to anticipate what he might say.
As he peered down at his phone, I noticed the determined angle of his jaw and the faint trace of the dimple in his right cheek.
There was something of the sexy highwayman about Mason, I decided.
Then a picture reared up in my mind of him wearing one of those black highwayman masks, his icy eyes bewitching any lady who crossed his path.
I snatched up my water glass and took an eager mouthful. This Scarlet Highwayman story was affecting me. I was allowing my emotions to take over. Mason was a flirt, a player; he didn’t take relationships seriously and if I allowed myself to play his games, I’d end up getting hurt all over again.
I turned over in my head what he’d just told me about his life in Australia.
He didn’t have to do that, though. Seeing as he was being more transparent, perhaps I should tell him about Alex Lapley and his threat to the business.
I knew he would want to know, and it would be churlish of me not to tell him.
‘Mason, there’s something I wanted to tell you before…’ My voice faltered. He was still captivated by his phone screen. ‘What’s the matter? Is there something wrong?’
He clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath. ‘You could say that. My parents have decided to pay me a visit.’
‘Is that all?’ I laughed. ‘For one minute there, I thought something awful was going to happen.’
‘It is,’ grumbled Mason. ‘Or at least you’d agree with me if you knew my parents.’
I gave a short laugh and forked up a mouthful of salad. ‘Go on, then. Tell me.’
He picked up his glass of water. ‘I used to be married to a local girl back in Cormount.’
I nodded, trying to disguise my surprise and curiosity. He’d been married too. I glanced up at the fishing nets, starfish and shells that decorated the pub’s stone walls around us. ‘Okay,’ I encouraged. ‘Please go on.’
‘Geri and I grew up together and a lot of people just assumed we’d end up getting married.’ Mason peered out of the window for a moment to study a couple of gulls strutting about on the rocks below. ‘I mean, I did like her a lot, but I should never have married her.’
I let what he was saying sink in for a moment. ‘We all do things that we look back on and regret.’
‘You’re telling me,’ said Mason through a dry smile. ‘My parents’ thought Geri was perfect for me, but she turned out to be the opposite.’ He paused. ‘I can’t believe I’m sitting here telling you all of this. You’re very easy to talk to.’
I gave my loose hair a playful toss. ‘So, I’ve been told!’
He settled back in his seat, the evening light lifting the bolts of blue-black in his hair.
‘It was only when my career started to take off that Geri insisted we get hitched, and I stupidly fell into line.’ Mason rolled his eyes at the memory.
‘Mum and Dad were delighted – their eldest son finally settling down with Cormount’s answer to Gwyneth Paltrow – but the scales soon fell from my eyes once we were married. ’
I gave him a sympathetic look. ‘I take it she turned into the Bride of Dracula – literally.’
‘Yes, she did.’ He raised his hands in the air in mock surrender.
‘I’d been so bloody stupid. There were signs that she was one mercenary individual, especially when she discovered that I’d secured a TV series over here.
’ He shook his head in a resigned manner.
‘She only pushed to marry me when my first history TV show was commissioned. Up until then, Geri had been quite indifferent about marriage.’
Sympathy overtook me.
‘And anyway,’ added Mason, ‘now I look back on it, Geri and Mason sound like the name of some cheesy music-hall act.’
Our eyes met and we burst out laughing. ‘So, from what you’ve said, you realised pretty quickly that you’d made a mistake.’
Mason agreed. ‘Oh, that’s an understatement. On our Italian honeymoon, she was interrogating my agent about possible book deals and advances for me. That was when she wasn’t rushing around Milan, buying eight-hundred-euro handbags.’
‘Ah.’
‘I stuck it out for eighteen months and then I knew I couldn’t stay in the marriage a moment longer. We got divorced four years ago.’
‘And your parents didn’t take it very well?’
Mason’s slash of dazzling white smile made my stomach lurch. ‘I’m surprised they didn’t have me driven out of town.’
‘But didn’t they realise what a madam this Geri was?’
‘She’s a very clever manipulator,’ he confessed. ‘When I got into TV, she did everything she could to ingratiate herself with my mum and dad.’
‘And now?’
‘They soon changed their opinion of her when she began demanding a ridiculous financial settlement during our divorce.’ Mason waggled his mobile at me. Their text was still glowing on the screen. ‘They must think I’m so na?ve.’
‘About what?’
‘Why they’re visiting me.’
I leaned my arms on the table. ‘They probably just want to visit their son.’
‘Well, yes…’ admitted Mason, ‘but that’s just a small part of it.’
‘What other reason do you think there is?’
His chest heaved under his tight T-shirt. ‘They’ve been dropping hints for the last week or so that they wanted to come over and meet my new girlfriend.’
Pain twisted in my chest and I sat back. So, there was someone.
Caleb’s words about seeing Mason strolling along Port Starr beach with a woman marched through my mind, followed by his redheaded dinner date.
I reached for my water. Oh, for pity’s sake!
I’d gone and done it again. I’d allowed myself to develop feelings for an untrustworthy cretin.
Curiosity and pain welled up as I took a couple of awkward sips of water.
I reached down for my bag. I could pretend I wasn’t feeling well or that something had come up.
I didn’t want to be sat here a moment longer.
‘It’s you.’
My head snapped up. ‘Pardon?’
Mason dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I’m so sorry, Poppy,’ he managed, ‘but I told my parents that you’re my new girlfriend and they’re desperate to meet you.’
‘Are you joking?’ I asked, fighting to keep my tone light.
‘No. No, I’m not.’
‘But why?’
Mason’s cheekbones hardened. ‘If I’d told my Mum I hadn’t met anyone, I wouldn’t have put it past her to have launched a Port Starr speed-dating event as soon as she stepped off the plane at Glasgow Airport.’
I was struggling to process this.
‘Look,’ he explained leaning forward across the table. ‘I know it’s a big ask, but I’d be so grateful if you’d do this. I promise, it’s only for a couple of days.’
‘But they’ll know that we’ve been lying,’ I protested.
‘No, they won’t. And anyway, they’re keen walkers and are hiring a car at the airport so they can take a trip from here and do a road trip of the Highlands, so it won’t be for long.’ Mason’s dark lashes flickered at me. ‘All we’ve got to do is act like a couple while they stop over here.’
‘I don’t know,’ I faltered. ‘I can see problems.’
‘Please,’ he begged with a hopeful smile. ‘You don’t want to see my mum trying to set me up with Eliza Compton, do you?’
The image made me laugh, despite myself. I knew what I should have said. Every fibre was screaming at me to avoid complications. Yet Mason was putting so much time and energy into the Scarlet Highwayman mystery, and he’d been so supportive about Alex Lapley and the threats he knew about.
My common sense would be appalled.
Why wasn’t he asking the dark-haired girl from his beach stroll or his flame-haired dinner companion? I wanted to say as much but I’d sound like a jealous stalker. Had he asked them and they’d said no? Or was I overthinking this?
I looked across the table at his pleading expression.
I rubbed at my forehead and flopped back in my seat. What was wrong with me? ‘All right,’ I muttered after a few moments. ‘I must be crazy. Okay, I’ll do it, but you owe me one.’
‘Thanks,’ he grinned, ‘just name your price.’
My mind recalled our conversation this evening, the confessions and revelations he’d made to me. ‘Okay. Well, I was about to tell you something earlier, before you told me about your parents visiting.’
‘Go on.’
I blew out a cloud of frustrated air. ‘Alex Lapley has told me his family own White Willow Cottages.’
Mason’s eyes hardened like marbles. ‘What? Are you’re kidding me?’
‘I wish I was. He showed me a letter from his solicitor.’ I swallowed and explained about the legal loophole resulting from my dad omitting his signature.
‘He’s threatening our business and I think his intention is to have the cottages bulldozed.
’ I flicked Mason a look. ‘It turns out the company that Dad bought the cottages from was called Shadow Land Holdings.’
Mason’s brows furrowed. ‘The same lot who are donating to McKerron Castle? But why didn’t you tell me this before?’
I toyed with the strap of my rose-gold watch. ‘I don’t know. I should have done and I’m sorry.’ I let my shoulders fall. ‘I suppose I wanted to be seen to be dealing with things on my own, to seem capable, you know?’
Mason raised his eyes to the pub’s wooden-beamed ceiling. ‘Stubborn doesn’t even begin to describe you.’
‘Don’t even go there,’ I threatened. ‘You can talk.’ I felt myself go rigid, thinking about Alex Lapley.
‘It’s all too convenient. We start digging around these diaries and the Scarlet Highwayman, and the next thing I know, he’s brandishing his lawyer’s letter at me.
’ I scrambled for the right words. ‘I know you think I’m a bit obsessed with conspiracy theories, but I’m growing more and more convinced that is the reason.
He’s worried we’re going to discover something. ’
Mason picked up his glass again and took a mouthful. ‘You’re not going to lose your business,’ he assured me. ‘And if you’re right and there is something he’s trying to hide – believe me, we’ll get to the bottom of it.’