‘It’s such a long history to try to wrap my head around compared to where I come from.’

They came to a stop in front of two of the tallest headstones—and oldest, if the faded engraving was anything to go by. The inscriptions were in Gaelic, but as Elle’s gaze slipped over the unfamiliar words, it stopped as she made out the names. Goosebumps broke out along her arms.

Isla. Gavan.

This is the place, Gran said in barely a whisper.

‘If it’s any comfort,’ Stuart said gently, ‘legend says that they died in each other’s arms.’

Elle looked across at him, confused, until she realised he thought she was crying over the two slain lovers before them. She quickly wiped her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’ Well, it was, kind of, it was a terribly sad tale, but reality was sinking in. This was the point of the whole trip—to bring Gran home to the place she had always felt she belonged.

‘Is it about your gran?’

When she looked at him with a hint of alarm, Stuart hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his pants and shrugged awkwardly. ‘You said yesterday that you wanted to do something for your grandmother.’

Relieved he hadn’t developed mind-reading skills, Elle nodded. ‘She wanted me to bring her ashes to Scotland—’ she forced the next words out tightly ‘—to scatter them here.’

‘I see,’ he said simply.

‘I didn’t bring them today,’ she told him. ‘I wasn’t sure if we’d find the spot, and I wanted to ask permission first.’

‘Of course. But why here?’

‘This was the place she visited as a child and she always loved the story of Isla and Gavan,’ she said, nodding towards the gravestones. ‘It’s a story that’s been in our family for a long time.’

‘Mine too,’ he said slowly.

‘Really?’ she asked, tilting her head curiously.

‘My family trace back to the MacColuims through my mother’s side, although it translates nowadays to MacCallum.’

‘Wow, so your mother’s a descendant of Gavan’s family. That must be really something, living here, so close, and following on from such a long line of descendants.’

‘It’s strange how life works out that my grandfather on my dad’s side bought the castle next door to my mother’s ancestral home.’ He grinned.

‘That is strange,’ Elle said slowly as she tried to piece together the complex family history.

‘Of course, my mother and her family never lived here. She was raised in London, where she met my father and where they’ve lived ever since, but I spent a lot of time here with my grandparents, who were as Scottish as you can get, and I inherited this place when they died.’

‘I can’t imagine having a castle on my back doorstep,’ she said, shaking her head.