Page 88 of Undercover Savior

Mairi nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“First, I insist you call me Ash. Or David. Whichever you prefer.”

While she nodded a second time, she didn’t speak.

“Mairi…What I mean to say is Aunt Mairi. Does Gus know?”

Her eyes flooded with tears, and she gasped to catch her breath before a sob came from somewhere deep inside her. I reached out and took her hand at the same time Sullivan did her other.

Mairi hung her head, trying several times to catch her breath. Finally, she looked up at me. “You were never meant to know. This morning… It’s my fault, isn’t it? That you figured it out?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. “As my dear cousin pointed out to me—or maybe it was Con, probably both—I lack the simplest of investigative skills.” I looked over at Sullivan. My eyes pleading for her to speak.

“It was Ambrose.”

Mairi turned her head to face Sullivan. “I begged him not to.” She choked on another sob. “Why now? Today?”

“He and I were at Thistle Gate, and he reminisced about how much my grandfather loved the place. I don’t think he necessarily meant to divulge the secret it seems everyone knew but me. Well, Con and Tag didn’t know, either?—”

“What David means to say is Ambrose shared the familial connection between you, your son, and himself.”

“Aye,” Mairi said, turning to face me again. “I am so sorry, sir?—”

“No. I am not sir to you. Never again,” I snapped, then immediately felt awful. “Apologies. I just cannot bear the idea that my aunt, the only one I’ve ever had, has been put in the position of referring to me as such. It breaks my heart.”

Both Sullivan and Mairi teared up.

“Apologies,” I repeated. “And as much as I wish we could toss the whole bloody Christmas meal out the window.” Mairi’s face scrunched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Rather, that’s to say, I wish you didn’t need to return to the kitchens, but I certainly understand why you do. You and I together will determine howthe staff is informed.” Something occurred to me. “Unless they all know.” The idea pained me.

“Nae.No one knows.” She hung her head again. “Not even my beloved Angus.”

“Forgive me for saying this, but are you certain? Unlike me, he is quite natural in deducing most anything.”

“He is smart, like his grandfather.”

“And you,” I added. “Did you know him well?”

“I did not. There were times my mum and I would visit Thistle Gate. Certainly not often. The last was the day before he died. He wasn’t ill, but I think my mum sensed it.”

“I’m glad you got to say goodbye, even if it wasn’t with those words.”

She nodded, then smiled. “I spent most of my life terrified of the man.”

I smiled too. “I understand. Completely.”

“Gus,” Sullivan whispered.

“Right.”

“Can we wait to tell him? Tomorrow, perhaps?” Mairi asked.

I shook my head. “I cannot wait. I cannot be with him knowing who he is to me and not divulge it.”

“He’ll never forgive me.”

“You’re wrong,” said Sullivan. “He’ll understand. I know he will.”

Mairi’s expression was hopeful. “It would be my Christmas wish that he would.”

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