Page 59 of His to Keep
“They removed the portcullis when we were kids and put in an ordinary steel gate,” Eilidh says as if living like this is normal. I guess it is to her. “There was a hell of a fight with the historical society, but the thing had become dangerous. It fell once when we were out playing, and it was only by sheer luck someone didn’t get skewered.”
“Fuck, kitten.” This place has me completely in awe. “You grew up in a castle. I didn’t realize I was marrying a real-life princess.”
Eilidh snorts in a distinctly un-princess-y manner. “Why do you think I chose to marry a dragon slayer?”
Though her question is playful, it’s a reminder of why we’ve returned to Scotland. I’m here to vanquish her enemies. Alexander called last night to say he had Jason Henry and Tommy McCain in his dungeons. Now that I see this place I realize that wasn’t just a turn of phrase. The castle has everything else. It must also have dungeons.
Alexander’s call put an end to three days of bliss as Eilidh and I spent time getting to know each other better while exploring the Italian countryside. It was as close to idyllic as I’ve ever experienced.
“When was this place built?” I ask as we cross the courtyard over cobbled stones.
“Oh, it’s quite new,” Eilidh says, her tongue firmly planted in her cheek. “It dates to around 1440.”
My mind has trouble absorbing that. “Has your family had it all this time?”
“Sort of. We’re a distant branch of the original landowner’s family. Dad inherited when there was nobody left in the main line.”
“Wow! Have you got a title you haven’t told me about?”
“Nope, but if you want to call me Your Highness I won’t stop you.”
That makes me laugh. I’ll bet she’d love to have me bowing and scraping to her on a full-time basis. “I’ll stick to kitten. It suits you better.”
“Why is that?” she asks as we pull up at a huge wooden door with large metal studs driven into it. “You said you reminded me of a thistle, but you call me kitten, so which is it?”
“It’s both.” I smile as she frowns in confusion. “Think about it. Kittens are cute and cuddly, but have claws. Thistles are nice to look at, but have spiky bits. Kitten and thistle are two sides of the same coin really.”
“If you say so.” Eilidh turns to look out of her window as the door opens and a man comes out to greet us.
“Who’s that?”
“No idea,” Eilidh says. “Must be new.”
“Welcome home, Eilidh,” the man says in a broad Glaswegian accent as he opens her door. “I’m Nico.”
Eilidh gets out of the car, and I follow. Nico is tall and heavy set. He’s not much older than me and the way he carries himself as if on permanent alert tells me he’s some sort of hired muscle rather than a butler.
“Nico.” Eilidh acknowledges him. She stops to stare at the man for a minute and then a smile spreads across her lips. “Nico MacFarlane?”
Nico grins. “You remember me?”
“I’m not the one who lost their memory,” Eilidh quips. “Of course I remember. You were at school with Jamie. You played… urgh!”
“Rugby.”
“That’s right. You were both on the rugby team. You were a prop forward.”
Nico nods. “Good memory.”
“Mind like a steel trap.” Eilidh taps the side of her head. “So, how come you’re here? You work for Sandy?”
“I do. I have a very particular skillset that comes in handy.”
“I won’t ask what that is.”
“Probably best not to,” Nico agrees. He offers me his hand and we shake. “Welcome, Gio. You don’t mind if I call you Gio? We don’t stand on ceremony around here.”
I’m not fond of formalities myself. “Gio is fine.”
