Page 139 of The Protective Gryphen

They didn’t.

They had a perfectly good castle to stay at.

Gryphen did warn the man though.

“Behave inside,” Gryphen said. “Or else.”

That amused Ian since he was only half of the problem. Gryphen was too sexy for Ian’s own good.

As they approached the church, it was stunning and old.

There was some beautiful windows on the church, and they both knew it was likely the biggest church in this town. The Church of Scotland was the predominant Christian church there, and they made sure everyone knew it.

Opening the door, they walked in, being very respectful of the fact that this was a sacred place to people. Up front, there was a man checking hymnals and moving around the pews.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

This was new to Gryphen, so he let Ian handle it. He’d told him his mother had raised them with religion, so he was better equipped for this.

“Yes, actually, you can. We’re staying at Ravensmire Castle, and we were working on the history of it for the owner.”

The man moved closer.

“Are you now?”

Ian nodded.

“And we were told that you might have records here that could help us figure out a bit more of the history. Do you? We have a journal, but unfortunately, some of it is missing and we’re at a loss.”

He smiled in welcome.

“Aye, we have some things. Mostly, the death certificates.”

“Is there anyway we can look through them and use what you have to fill in some of the blanks?”

The man waved them toward a different part of the church.

“I can. Come with me,” he said, leading them through the pews.

Ian couldn’t help himself.

“It’s gorgeous in here,” Ian admitted.

The man led the way, and kept talking to them about the church.

“It is one of the oldest churches. It was built in the fifteen hundreds by the Granndach family.”

Well, holy shit.

“Duncan?” he asked.

“No, his father, Adhamh,” he said. “Today, you would know the name to be Adam. He built most of this town, and it’s only here because of him. He owned all of these lands.”

Ian pulled a little notepad from his pocket, and wrote it down. He was taking notes, not wanting to miss a single solitary thing.

The whole time, it made Gryphen smile. The man might have been the head of the Secret Service, but he loved solving shit. That was probably Elizabeth’s doing too.

He’d been bitten by the mystery bug.

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