‘Oh. I assumed when you said I wouldn’t get there by car, that you’d give me directions so I could walk there.’

‘I said you wouldn’t get there in your car. My car, however, will be fine.’

The dogs sniffed at her curiously, and she gave each of them a pat before Stuart whistled sharply and they jumped up into the back seat of the vehicle.

Elle watched him warily. Glenda from the pub hadn’t stopped raving about what a great guy Stuart was, but should Elle really get into a car with a stranger and allow him to take her to what he’d just told her was a hard-to-get-to location of a ruined castle?

It’s all right, darling. We can trust him. He has honest eyes, Gran said reassuringly.

So, I take it you have some ghostly self-defence talents I don’t know about, in case he turns out to be an axe murderer?

We don’t need them. I told you, I trust him, she said with a dainty sniff.

Well, no offence, Gran, but you’re not exactly the one who’s in any mortal danger if he decides to rape and pillage.

I wouldn’t mind being pillaged by a handsome lad like that, I can tell you.

Elle shook her head and gave up. Fine. I’ll just risk my life in order to find this damn castle for you—happy?

‘If you’re worried about travelling alone with me …’

‘I wasn’t worried,’ she denied unconvincingly. ‘I told Glenda where I was going and when I should be back. So, someone knows where I am,’ she added pointedly, in case he had any plans to do away with her.

‘That’s a relief. She had nice things to say about you too,’ he said, walking past her.

Elle felt her mouth drop open. ‘You called to check up on me?’

‘You could be a serial killer or something. A bloke can’t be too careful,’ he said with a grin that caught her off guard. Elle wasn’t sure if she should be worried that he’d thought she might have been some weirdo and had called Glenda to check, or glad she wasn’t the only one who had reservations about strangers.

‘Shall we go?’

She settled into the front seat of the old four-wheel drive and glanced over at the two contented-looking dogs waiting patiently in the back, tongues lolling from their grinning mouths. Stuart slid into the driver’s seat and slammed his door shut.

‘Sorry. You have to slam it,’ he explained when Elle jumped. ‘We don’t get many tourists out this far, and very few have asked to see Stormeil—how is it that you know about it?’ he asked as they drove through an open gate into a wide paddock behind the house.