In a plot twist worthy of a heist film, a $6 marble doorstop has been revealed as an 18th-century bust of Scottish politician Sir John Gordon, potentially worth millions and hiding in plain sight since 1998.

This astonishing revelation has left art historians and local officials scrambling, as the long-lost bust, crafted by royal French sculptor Edmé Bouchardon in 1728, was discovered propping open a shed door for over two decades. Now slated for auction with an estimated value exceeding $3.2 million, the bust's sale proceeds are set to bolster the Invergordon Common Good Fund, while a legal process looms to decide if it deserves a spot as a national treasure instead of a doorstop.

The tale begins in 1930, when the Invergordon Town Council acquired the bust at an auction after the castle it adorned was sold in the 1920s. The bust, depicting Scottish landowner and politician Sir John Gordon and crafted by royal French sculptor Edmé Bouchardon in 1728, was used as a doorstop for decades until it was spotted in 1998 propping open a door in a shed.

Fast forward to 1998, where the bust's public re-emergence could be described as unceremonious at best. One might have thought Sir John's likeness would prefer a life in the spotlight rather than wedged underneath a door. But time has a funny way of revealing treasures hidden in plain sight, especially to those with a penchant for casual decor choices involving ancient artistry.

While many municipalities grapple with housing their historical artifacts properly, Invergordon appears to have inadvertently chosen the unconventional route, making a solid case for doorstop tourism. The bust remained in relative obscurity until its recent valuation shone a new light on the former doorstop; Sotheby’s, ever eager for a good story, had their ears perked when a mysterious benefactor whispered of serious interest in acquiring the sculpture for a price somewhere north of $3 million.

At this juncture, discussions around the bust's fate become all the more intriguing. The Scottish Highlands’ Tain Sheriff Court approved plans for the auction, but not without first navigating the complex waters of art ownership entangled with national pride. You see, while Sir John may have looked quite regal resting against a door, he may also very well belong in the pantheon of Scottish history. Enter the Waverley Criteria, a legal charm designed to assess if this stunning marble should be treated like a normal piece of art or a national treasure, to be gently paraded under velvet ropes instead of seen getting muddy by the shed's entrance.

This brings us to the conundrum of risk and reward. Since its discovery, the bust has sat snugly in storage, a rather unfortunate fate for a piece of notable art, due largely to exorbitant insurance costs associated with its public display. It’s almost as if the marble bust, eternal in stone, has outlived the centuries only to be shackled by the anxieties of the 21st century's bureaucracy. Imagine Sir John, glancing askance at piles of paperwork in order to find a cozy home while his bank account gets fatter than his stone visage.

Although plenty of questions remain about how art can sometimes slip through the cracks of time, what is clear is that any funds generated from this auction will help support local initiatives through the Invergordon Common Good Fund. As they say, every cloud has its silver lining— in this case, it happens to be carved in marble and historically significant. Local officials waste no time reminding citizens that something as humble as a doorstop can turn into a wellspring of community support, all while creating a narrative worthy of a historic Scottish ballad.

For a brief period, Sir John was lent out to elevate displays at cultural landmarks, including a visit to the Louvre in Paris in 2016 and the Getty Museum in Los Angeles in 2017. It's enough to make one wonder what the bust truly thinks of its encounters with legacies far greater than propping open the way for the occasional breeze. Perhaps it has flirtations with high society yet to come.

In any event, the fate of this wayward doorstop now lies on the horizon, promising suspense, intrigue, and hopefully, a resolution that appreciates Sir John's legacy. While we wait to see whether it will return to its previous door-centric life or grace the esteem of a national gallery, it serves as a reminder that fortune may just knock at the most unsuspecting doors. Or, if we're lucky, the one that might open to an art exhibition in the heart of Scotland, looking back at its humble beginnings with a bemused expression, forever questioning how it ended up as a doorstop in the first place.