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Authors: Sara Craven
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myself.’
‘Is that where you work’
He nodded. ‘I started on the oil rigs but now I’m on a contract in Saudi.’ He paused again. ‘Are you a walker, Miss
Blake Because, if you’re planning to head into the hills at some point, you’ll need to leave a message with Auntie at the
shop about where you’re going and when you reckon to be back. Snow or not, the weather can still be treacherous at
this time of year and getting the mountain rescue team out is expensive.’
Emily smiled. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve come to relax.’Or try to …‘I’m not tackling more than the odd gentle stroll.’
‘Then I’d better give you a bit of peace now,’ Angus commented ruefully. ‘The family always say I could talk the hind leg
off a donkey.’
If she was truthful, Emily was glad of the silence. She still couldn’t believe her escape had been so simple. The only query
had come from the ticket office clerk at the station. ‘A first class single to London, madam Not a return’
She’d smiled demurely. ‘I’ll probably be coming back by car,’ she fibbed. She wouldn’t, of course, but if Raf made
enquiries that was what he’d be told. And from London she could have gone anywhere.
She didn’t even want to contemplate what his reaction would be when he arrived at the Manor and discovered she was
missing. But she wouldn’t worry about that now. She had two weeks of solitary bliss in which to make her contingency
plans. And when she returned she’d be ready for anything.
They seemed to have been driving for ever but at last the Jeep turned off and Emily found they were bumping over a
rutted uphill track.
Her companion pointed to a light ahead of them. ‘That’s Braeside Cottage. Auntie’ll have been up with a welcome
pack—bread, milk, porridge oats and the like. And I’m to show you where everything is and light the living room fire for
you.
‘The water and heating work off oil,’ he went on as Emily murmured appreciatively. ‘And the cooker uses bottled gas,
because the electricity goes off sometimes in bad weather. But Auntie Maggie makes sure there’s always a good stock of
candles.’ He paused doubtfully. ‘You’re certain you won’t mind being up here on your own’
‘Believe me,’ Emily said truthfully, ‘I can hardly wait.’
The cottage was certainly worth waiting for, she thought, as she was ushered straight in through a front door which,
Angus told her, was rarely, if ever, locked.
Well, it was the back of beyond, just as she’d hoped, she reminded herself. Her Scottish sanctuary, hundreds of miles
from irate Italian millionaires.
It was a large room, comfortably furnished but not flash. Two big sofas upholstered in blue flowered chintz flanked the
fireplace and there was a small dining table and two chairs under the window. None of the furniture was new, but it
gleamed and there was a pleasing scent of polish in the air.
A curtained archway led to a small but well-equipped kitchen at the rear, with the promised welcome pack standing on
one of the counter tops.
In addition, there was a flight of wooden stairs to the upper floor and a door in the corner which Angus said led down to
the cellar, where the boiler and the coal bunker were both located.
He took her case upstairs and deposited it in the large front bedroom. Emily saw that there was a thick quilt in a green
and white striped cover on the double bed and that the lace-edged pillows were crisply laundered. It looked so inviting
that she almost ached.
There were sheepskin rugs on the wooden floor and plain curtains in the same green at the windows. There was also an
elderly chest of drawers with a mirror above it and a walk-in cupboard with a hanging rail.
Opposite was a single room, chastely furnished in white, and at the end of the narrow landing was a small but serviceable
bathroom with a deep old-fashioned tub and a hand shower.
It was all immaculately clean and shining, which
‘Is that where you work’
He nodded. ‘I started on the oil rigs but now I’m on a contract in Saudi.’ He paused again. ‘Are you a walker, Miss
Blake Because, if you’re planning to head into the hills at some point, you’ll need to leave a message with Auntie at the
shop about where you’re going and when you reckon to be back. Snow or not, the weather can still be treacherous at
this time of year and getting the mountain rescue team out is expensive.’
Emily smiled. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve come to relax.’Or try to …‘I’m not tackling more than the odd gentle stroll.’
‘Then I’d better give you a bit of peace now,’ Angus commented ruefully. ‘The family always say I could talk the hind leg
off a donkey.’
If she was truthful, Emily was glad of the silence. She still couldn’t believe her escape had been so simple. The only query
had come from the ticket office clerk at the station. ‘A first class single to London, madam Not a return’
She’d smiled demurely. ‘I’ll probably be coming back by car,’ she fibbed. She wouldn’t, of course, but if Raf made
enquiries that was what he’d be told. And from London she could have gone anywhere.
She didn’t even want to contemplate what his reaction would be when he arrived at the Manor and discovered she was
missing. But she wouldn’t worry about that now. She had two weeks of solitary bliss in which to make her contingency
plans. And when she returned she’d be ready for anything.
They seemed to have been driving for ever but at last the Jeep turned off and Emily found they were bumping over a
rutted uphill track.
Her companion pointed to a light ahead of them. ‘That’s Braeside Cottage. Auntie’ll have been up with a welcome
pack—bread, milk, porridge oats and the like. And I’m to show you where everything is and light the living room fire for
you.
‘The water and heating work off oil,’ he went on as Emily murmured appreciatively. ‘And the cooker uses bottled gas,
because the electricity goes off sometimes in bad weather. But Auntie Maggie makes sure there’s always a good stock of
candles.’ He paused doubtfully. ‘You’re certain you won’t mind being up here on your own’
‘Believe me,’ Emily said truthfully, ‘I can hardly wait.’
The cottage was certainly worth waiting for, she thought, as she was ushered straight in through a front door which,
Angus told her, was rarely, if ever, locked.
Well, it was the back of beyond, just as she’d hoped, she reminded herself. Her Scottish sanctuary, hundreds of miles
from irate Italian millionaires.
It was a large room, comfortably furnished but not flash. Two big sofas upholstered in blue flowered chintz flanked the
fireplace and there was a small dining table and two chairs under the window. None of the furniture was new, but it
gleamed and there was a pleasing scent of polish in the air.
A curtained archway led to a small but well-equipped kitchen at the rear, with the promised welcome pack standing on
one of the counter tops.
In addition, there was a flight of wooden stairs to the upper floor and a door in the corner which Angus said led down to
the cellar, where the boiler and the coal bunker were both located.
He took her case upstairs and deposited it in the large front bedroom. Emily saw that there was a thick quilt in a green
and white striped cover on the double bed and that the lace-edged pillows were crisply laundered. It looked so inviting
that she almost ached.
There were sheepskin rugs on the wooden floor and plain curtains in the same green at the windows. There was also an
elderly chest of drawers with a mirror above it and a walk-in cupboard with a hanging rail.
Opposite was a single room, chastely furnished in white, and at the end of the narrow landing was a small but serviceable
bathroom with a deep old-fashioned tub and a hand shower.
It was all immaculately clean and shining, which
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