But all Kirsty had achieved had been more apathy from Susie. And now they stared at the imposing fortress and Susie’s expression of bewilderment echoed what was in Kirsty’s own heart.

‘Why didn’t Rory tell me his uncle was an earl?’ Susie whispered. ‘And to live in a place like this… I never would have come if I’d known this.’

It had been a shock, Kirsty acknowledged. They’d arrived in Dolphin Bay that afternoon, tried the local post office for information and had been stunned by their reception.

‘Angus Douglas? That’ll be His Lordship you’re wanting. The earl.’

‘Angus Douglas is an earl?’ Kirsty had demanded, and the postmistress had smiled, propped her broad elbows on the counter and prepared to chat.

‘Ooh, yes. Dolphin Bay’s answer to royalty is our Angus. He’s the Earl of Loganaich, he tells us, but the Loganaich part of him is long gone.’

‘Loganaich,’ Kirsty had said, not understanding, and the lady had needed no more encouragement to expand.

‘Apparently his family’s castle burned to the ground back in Scotland,’ she told them. ‘Lord Angus says it was a nasty, draughty place and no great loss. He’s not all that sentimental, His Lordship. Except when it comes to wearing kilts. Ooh, you should see him in a kilt. Anyway, Lord Angus and his brothers left Scotland when they were not much more than teenagers, and two of them-the two eldest-came here.’

‘Tell us about them,’ Kirsty said faintly, and the lady proceeded to do just that.

‘Lord Angus married a nurse during the war,’ she said, pointing to a community notice-board. A yellowing newspaper clipping showed an elderly lady at what seemed to be some sort of village fête. ‘That’s Deirdre, God rest her soul. A lovely, lovely lady.’ She sniffed and it was obvious to Kirsty why the fading newspaper was still on the board. This was personal loss.

‘Did they have children?’ she asked, and was met by a shake of the head that was almost fierce.