Read Highland Secrets (English Edition) Online
Authors: Elena MacKenzie
Highland Secrets (English Edition)
Copyright 2013 by Elena MacKenzie
Publisher of the
Ebook version: Romantasy Verlag
Contac
t: www.romantasy-verlag.de
Cover photo
:
© Artem Furman - Fotolia.com
Cover
design: Nicole Döhling
All rights reserved including every whole or partial reprint.
Elena MacKenzie:
www.elenamackenzie.de
Highland Secrets –Reckless Love is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author´s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living ore dead, is entirely coincidental
.
Elena MacKenzie
Highland Secrets
Erotic thriller
For
Daniela White, who has fallen for men in kilts just like I have.
Half an hour had already passed since my alloted time. I could only hope that the lawyer Mr. Ferguson didn’t have any other appointments after me. However, it felt as if I was jinxed. Today was just one of those bad days where everything went wrong. First of all, the museum employed another restorer right at the last minute who had more experience. (Somebody please explain to me how is it possible for a restorer fresh out of university to gain experience when nobody gives her a chance?) And then, to top it all off, I also missed the bus back to my small two-bedroom apartment and had to run. I just couldn’t afford a taxi. Not with the limited funds I had left in my bank account.
The last amount of
money I had left over from my parents’ inheritance. If I didn’t find a job quickly, I would soon be roaming the streets or I would have to move back in with my grandmother, which definitely didn’t bear thinking about. Alice Kent was one of those people who loves having control and who always wanted to know the latest gossip about the lives of others. However, she was also a very cold and ignorant person. I grew up with her after my parents died in a rail accident near London. I was fourteen years old at the time and maybe I wasn’t particularly sociable either. Yet, I didn’t really enjoy living together with my grandmother.
I
walked down the long street full of villas and searched for house number 143. The lawyer who had sent me an invite had an office in this building. I didn’t have a clue what he wanted from me. When I asked him on the telephone, he just said that it was about something important which he was only allowed to talk to me about in person.
That’s why I
reluctantly took the bus right to the other end of London and traveled here and was now walking in the rain searching for the right house. The heels of my department store shoes clattered on the stone slabs, puddle watter splattered onto my calves and went right through my silk tights. I would have liked to have changed clothes, but I didn’t have enough time. This was despite the fact that I had to head back home from the museum to pick up the letter from the lawyer which I had left lying at home and which had his address on the letterhead.
I wasn’t especially intrigued why Mr
. Ferguson wanted to meet me in person. It would just be my bad luck if I had gone through a red light once and didn’t pay the fine. Nevertheless, I was now heading for his office because even if I wasn’t reliable, I was at least aware of my responsibilities. And if I had actually forgotten to pay a bill, I would pay it if I was able to.
I finally reached house number 143. Like all the other buildings in this area, it originated
from the Victorian era and was in very good condition. It had dark-red plastered walls, white frames around the windows, a low black cast iron fence and flower boxes placed in front of the high windows in which pansies were blossoming. I climbed the steps to the front door, rang the door bell and while I was waiting I closed my umbrella with the beautiful poodle motif and adjusted my anthracite colored pencil skirt and the suit jacket that went with it, which I had put on especially for the contract signing at the museum.
A middle-aged woman opened the door to me
, gave me a slightly timid smile and glanced at me with her forehead raised.
“Ms
. Sands?”
I gave an uncertain nod and
suppressed a sniff as a rain drop was on the tip of my nose.
“Please come in
. My husband is waiting in his office for you. You are late”, said the women who no doubt already had grey hairs hiding under her perfect chestnut brown hair. She was wearing a bright blue suit similar to that which the Queen liked to wear. This suit was undoubtedly in a similar price range to that of the Queens.
She moved
to one side and let me step into the spacious foyer. “Please leave your umbrella in here.” She pointed to an umbrella stand. I responded to her request with a fake smile. I had rarely met somebody who was so unfriendly from the moment I met them, but this woman was exactly like that. Her arrogant glance which continually looked me up and down, the false smile that barely played upon her lips and her proud posture which showed that she considered herself to be something special. Her pinned up hairstyle looked better than mine at least which wasn’t down to the fact that I had just been rushing through the streets of London, but rather because my head was only decorated with a simple bun, while her hairstyle looked like that of a professional with a number of hairpins, an artistically decorated comb at the back of her head and a dark green silk flower over her ear.
A quick glance in the wardrobe mirror revealed to me that
a number of dark red strands of hair had come loose from my bun and were tangled around my face. The Kajal eye liner was also running around my moss-green eyes and I looked like a raccoon. This was not down to the rain, but was due to the fact that I had started to cry at some point on the way from my apartment to the bus because my appointment at the museum didn’t work out how I had hoped.
Since I had watched my mother at work as a little girl, my
dream had always been to restore paintings. She was so immersed in her work; in the face of a woman who had died centuries ago. When my mother was able to wake this woman from her slumber and transfer her into the present day, it made an impact on me. It was as if she was taking a trip into the future. And she would tell us about her past life. Even today, I saw the dark eyes and the black hair of the young Lady of Chamberlain in front of me and my mother who gradually brought this face back to life.
I quickly stroked my hair with my hands and put a few
of the strands behind my ears. At least I fill out my skirt better than the slightly too thin Mrs. Ferguson I thought, as I looked satisfyingly at my hourglass figure.
Thin women may look good in tight trousers
, but I always thought that it didn’t really matter if you’re a few kilos heavier when wearing a tight fitting skirt. Other people spend a lot of money to get a bottom like J.Lo, but with me it’s just natural. It should be obvious to Mrs. Ferguson that I am happy with who I am. So I tightened my shoulders, pushed my ample breasts out slightly and walked past the old lady towards the door at the end of the corridor which had a gold sign attached to it with Mr. Ferguson’s office written on it in black letters. I got to the door and gave it a knock. Without waiting for Mrs. Ferguson, I entered as soon as I heard “come in” from the inside and with a smile on my face closed the door right in the face of the unfriendly lady.
“Ms
. Sands”, a bald-headed man in his fifties greeted me. He got up from his large wing chair which blended in perfectly with the dark office. All the shelves, cupboards and the desk were made out of dark brown solid wood and must have cost a fortune. Just like the rest of the house. Maybe I had just chosen the wrong profession. Yet, when I was shown the numerous boring paragraphs you have to learn as a lawyer, it shook me to the core.
“Hello”
, I replied and stepped further into the room. I was uncomfortably aware that my dirty shoes were leaving wet marks on the shiny parquet floor. It was nice and warm in the room which I was happy about as I was freezing. A voice from within me quietly wished that my stay here would last long enough for me to warm up. This summer was more like a late autumn which was not only a disappointment to me but also to all the school kids in England. The summer vacation was an absolute disaster.
“Take a seat”
, requested Mr. Ferguson with a friendly smile and pointed towards one of the two chairs near the fireplace.
I sat down and looked awkwardly into the flickering
flames and then folded my hands in my lap. I was feeling a little bit nervous and had mild to moderate stomach cramps. What did such a wealthy lawyer want from me? I was almost certain that I had done nothing wrong. I didn’t have any more relatives who could pass on their riches to me either.
My parents died eight years ago an
d left behind just enough money for me to finance my degree. My grandmother, my only living relative, had not died in the last few hours as far as I knew – I had only just spoken to her on the telephone this morning. And she didn’t have much money anyway. And the same was the case here too as far as I knew. I was therefore alone in the world.
Mr
. Ferguson bent over the intercom on his desk “Alie, bring us in some tea will you. Our guest looks like she’s suffering from hypothermia.” Then he went to take a large envelope, stepped around the table and took a seat in the other leather armchair.
“It was good that I made the fire before you came.
I like it when its cosy in here.” He gave me a friendly smile and held his hand out. I took it. “I’m Leonard Ferguson and you must be Linda Sands”, he stated and observed me intently without the disparaging look his wife gave me earlier. “Are you twenty four?”
I nodded
.
Mr
. Ferguson was slightly stocky, his eyes were grey and he wore a black suit. There was a rust-colored mark around chest height on his white shirt with the top button left open. He must have stained it when he was eating. I suppressed a grin. At least I found him to be friendlier than his wife who walked through the door at that moment and was pushing a serving trolley in front of her on which the china made a quiet rattling sound. She pushed the trolley between our armchairs, gave her husband a quick smile and went away again without giving me so much as a glance.
Mr
. Ferguson poured black tea into our cups. “Milk? Sugar?”
»Yes, please
.«
He gave me my cup once he was finished. I took the cup, nodded and blew on the steaming
hot tea.
“Let’s get started.”
He removed papers from the envelope, gave me and then the papers a quick glance and gave me another contented smile. “Is this you then?”
He held a photo in front of me. I didn’t have a clue when it had been taken, but it was a photo of me on the university campus
underneath the tree I used to like to sit and read under when the weather was nice. It must have been taken shortly before the beginning of the last semester. I was wearing just a blouse and a thin summer skirt in the picture.
“Yes, that’s me,”
I said and looked at Mr. Ferguson confused.
He put the photo to one side. “Then we can continue.” He looked seriously at the cream-colored paper in his hands. “Do you know who Mr
. Robert MacLeod is?”
I was ev
en more confused. “Do you mean Professor MacLeod?”
“Exactly.”
“He was my professor at the university for two semesters.” Professor MacLeod was just a guest lecturer, but I found him to be a very nice, open man who endeavored to help his students. He was already getting old. Maybe in his late sixties? There was something noble about him. He was always very elegant, he was very careful about how he expressed himself, he made his presence felt, but never came across as arrogant.
“
Mr. MacLeod gave this to me before he left us.”
“Is
he …?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Even though I had only known him for a short time, this news was a huge blow to me.
“Yes, unfortunately
. I have been the family’s lawyer for many years now. It is … well, a rather strange letter. It’s probably best if I read it to you.” He took a short breath and glanced at me probably to ensure that I was listening to him. He then adjusted his glasses on his nose and cautiously peered over the small round glasses at me.
“Read it”
, I urged him and took a sip of my tea.
“Dear
Ms. Sands, It will be a surprise to you that I am writing to you now, but please believe me when I tell you that there are important reasons for me doing this. It might have been easier to just ask you to come to Glenoak Hall because of work, but that wouldn’t have been the real reason. I hope you forgive me if I still go about it in this way and ask you to come to Glenoak Hall to restore a few paintings that are hugely important to my family. And also to you, if I may say so, Ms. Sands.
As a thank you for your eff
orts, you will be paid handsomely. My lawyer will sort everything out. But I would like to emphasize once again that these paintings, even if they are the most valuable possessions at Glenoak Hall, are not the only reason why you must come to the family estate.
Please prepare yourself for a longer stay and do not
worry about any commitments you may have in London. Mr. Ferguson will take care of everything. That includes all financial matters.
Yours sincerely, Professor MacLeod.”
Had I stared at Mr. Ferguson open-mouthed? I couldn’t say, but for a few moments I was left speechless and was unable to think. I then sat down and gave the lawyer a quizzical look. “So I should go to Glenoak Hall? Why should I restore the paintings? Will he ever know whether they have been restored? I didn’t completely understand what was going on.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you much more. He only reiterates to me in his letter how extremely important it is that you honor his request.”
“And you have to pay for everything? Don’t get me wrong, but I am almost bankrupt.”
“Then maybe this opportunity has come along at just the right time”
, he said and winked at me. “We are talking here about paying you a sum of five hundred thousand pounds.”