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a lot of other memoirs these days. I’d been wondering what my angle – is that what you call it?’ I nodded. ‘I wondered what angle we could exploit.’
    ‘Sholto MacNab: soldier, sport sman, husband, father, laird and lover. The complete man.’
    ‘Warts a nd all.’
    ‘If you can bear it. And if you think your family can bear it.’
    ‘You know, there will be rather a lot of warts.’
    ‘The more the merrier. Everyone loves a bad boy.’
    He beamed. ‘I think you’ve just talked yourself into the job I was convinced I wouldn’t offer you. That is, if you still want it?’
    ‘I do. Very much.’
    ‘On the terms we agreed?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘When can you start?’
    ‘As soon as you like. I’ll have to go back to London to fetch my stuff, but I can come back in a few days’ time, or whenever you think you might be ready to start.’
    ‘C ome back as soon as you can. I shall be raring to go. I thought preparing this book would be rather a chore. A necessary evil. But now I think… Well, I think it could be rather fun, don’t you?’ His blue eyes were bright and full of mischief.
    ‘I certainly do. And I’m hugely excited at the prospect of working with you.’
    ‘The feeli ng’s mutual, I do assure you.’
    I stood and Sholto hauled himself to his feet, limping round the desk to stand beside me. As he vacated his chair, I noted with a thrill that the carved oak bore the date 1663.
    ‘Welcome to Cauldstane, Jenny. I hope you’ll feel at home with us.’
    ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mr MacNab.’
    ‘Call me Sholto. Ridiculous name, isn’t it? My father was called Ninian. I suspect he named his children as an act of revenge.’
    ‘Your brother was Torquil, wasn’t he?’
    ‘ You’ve done your homework, I see. You can imagine what they made of Torquil and Sholto MacNab at Eton. Actually, you probably can’t, a nice well-brought up girl like you.’
    ‘Torquil inherited first, didn’t he? He was your older brother?’
    ‘Yes. Cauldstane should have been his. And so should all the probl ems that came with it. He was trained up for it, you see. I wasn’t. I was the madcap younger son who was going to have to make his own way in the world. And I was the one everyone thought likely to die young. The Cauldstane mantle was never meant to fall on my narrow shoulders. But Torquil was what they used to call a “confirmed bachelor”. He was also a chain smoker and a heavy drinker.’
    ‘Was it cancer ?’
    ‘ Lung, then liver. It was a slow business… I miss him too, you know. He was a splendid fellow. Bizarre sense of humour though. You saw the albatross in the hall?’
    For a moment I was thrown by his question, then I remembered. ‘Oh – the stuffed bird?’
    Sholto chuckled. ‘Torquil sent me that when he realised he was dying and I’d have to take on Cauldstane. Oh, we had a lot of laughs… And some of his boyfriends were quite charming. Not that I ever indulged, of course. Always been one for the ladies myself – as you’ll know if you’re familiar with my press cuttings.’
    ‘It’s certainly going to be a colourful story, Mr MacNab. And it has all the ingredients of a bestseller.’
    ‘ You think so? That’s what Cauldstane needs, Jenny. Needs badly.’ He smiled and took my hand again and this time I allowed myself to look down. And there it was. The MacNab thumb.
    I decided it was a good omen.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
     
    I emerged from the library cock-a-hoop. It wasn’t just that I’d managed to secure the commission against the odds. I was already smitten with Cauldstane and the MacNabs – all of them, even the dead ones. I estimated this job would take me two or three months, depending on Sholto’s degree of co-operation. He’d offered me bed and board at the castle and I knew he couldn’t afford to pay hotel expenses, so I was perfectly happy to stay as a guest and save myself a lot of driving. If I got to know the family it couldn’t fail to add depth to