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‘Sort of, but mainly because she was a fiery wee beast when she was a kitten. Could scratch like anything.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Bex replied as Kenna let out another low rumble.

‘Oh, trust me, it’s true.’

While Kenna’s purring grew louder, Bex found herself surprisingly relaxed, entranced by the rhythmic brushing and the contentment of the oversized cat.

When she looked up, she saw Duncan still standing there, watching them with a soft smile.

‘I thought you had to get something?’ she said.

‘Right, yes – getting on that now,’ he said, snapping out of his reverie.

While Duncan disappeared, Bex remained on the sofa. Kenna had shifted her position so that her head was now resting on Bex’s lap, while Ruby had laid herself flat across her feet. She was tempted to get a selfie, just to send to Claire and Daisy, but before she could work out how to get her phone without disturbing the animals, Duncan had returned, with a large, long bag slung over his shoulder.

Bex narrowed her eyes as she looked at the item.

‘Should I know what that is?’

A slanted grin widened on Duncan’s face.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll show you,’ he said. ‘And I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it.’

32

‘What is that?’

Bex stared at the contraption in front of her, trying to work out what it was. They had walked away from the castle, down a thin path that weaved through the trees and bushes, until it opened onto an expanse of fields by the loch. From there, she had followed Duncan over several stiles and even through one kissing gate until he’d come to a stop a short way away from where the object stood and put down his bags, as if he’d expected her to understand what was going on. She’d never seen anything like it before. There was some sort of motor, by the looks of things, and six stacks of little round discs.

‘It’s a clay trap.’

‘A what?’

Duncan’s answer had left her absolutely none the wiser.

‘For clay pigeon shooting,’ he expanded. That, Bex had heard of.

During her years at the accountancy firm, Bex had been on hundreds of those damn workplace retreats where she was required to do archery and axe-throwing, normally after filling in endless questionnaires which resulted in being teamed up based on whatever colour, animal, or other personality profile was assigned. But she’d never done anything like this. She’d never even held a gun, let alone aimed one at something that was moving.

‘I’m not sure I’ll be any good at it,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Really? I get the impression you’re the type of person who’s good at everything.’

A light laugh escaped her. ‘Okay, I am good at a lot of things, but that’s normally because I use common sense and logic. I’m not sure that’s going to work here.’

‘You’d be surprised. Besides, I’m here to help you. Let’s give it a go. As long as you’re up for it. I mean, you can always go back to the study and keep working on those accounts if you want?’

His smirk was infuriating, not to mention attractive. Of course she didn’t want to go back into the study. It was stunning out here and the crisp clean air was a far cry from the stagnant, dust-filled atmosphere she had been working in all week.

‘Okay,’ she said after a pause. ‘But if I’m not any good, then I’ll blame you for being a terrible teacher.’

‘Of course you will,’ he replied. ‘Now, protection first.’

‘Protection?’

From out of his bag, he pulled two pairs of fawn-coloured defenders.

‘May I?’