23. Savior

23

SAVIOR

T here were several ways I thought to broach the subject of who Mairi and Gus were to me once we reached the castle, but as soon as we walked in the door, my mind went blank.

“David?” Sullivan whispered when I stood, frozen, in the entryway.

“I…I can’t…” I stammered.

“We can. Come, we’ll do it together.”

God, I loved her for saying we instead of me alone. While I’d been able to rely on Con, Tag, and especially my cousin, Gus, the support I felt from Sullivan was different. It was almost like she was an extension of me. One I had no idea how I’d lived this long without.

“Yes. We can do this,” I repeated.

“Ask her to meet us in the library. Tell her there’s something I want to ask her about.”

“Yes. Good. I like that idea.”

“I’ll go make sure Fallon isn’t still in there.”

“Again, good. Thanks.”

Before she walked away, Sullivan squeezed my hand, leaned up, and kissed me. “I love you,” she whispered.

I squared my shoulders and marched into the largest of the two kitchens, where I knew Christmas dinner was being prepared. Then, in my most duke-like tone of voice, said, “Mrs. Drummond? A word?”

She looked about the room at those fast at work, then wiped her hands on the apron she wore. “Of course, my lord.”

“In the library, if you will. Sullivan has something, err, to ask about.”

“Sir, can it wait?—”

“It cannot.”

Her eyes widened at my tone, but I had no choice. If she didn’t walk out of the kitchen with me right now, I might lose my nerve, and that wasn’t something I could do. There was no way I’d be able to sit at the table, enjoying Christmas dinner, and hide my unease. Especially from Gus. He’d pick up on it and perhaps make the wrong assumptions. Like I had with Brose all these years.

I led the way, and thankfully, she followed. Once inside, I closed the two large doors that likely hadn’t been shut in years, based on how they creaked. Sullivan was seated by the fireplace, where I noticed there were three chairs rather than two. All had been scooted so they were within inches of the others.

“Please take a seat,” I said to Mairi, motioning to the middle chair.

“Sir? What is this about?” She’d gone ghostly white.

“There’s something I need to ask you about.”

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 how the 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.”

I glanced up and saw him through the window. Neither woman was facing that direction. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

I raced out of the library, then toward the foyer. I arrived at the same time Gus removed his coat. When our eyes met, he nodded barely perceptibly. “You know.”

“Just today. A short while ago,” I assured him.

“I believe you.”

“I’ve just spoken with your mum.”

“How is she?”

“Quite worried about your reaction.” I took a step closer. “Gus, if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t until I saw the photo of the two of us in his study that I believed it might be true. Even then, I wasn’t certain. Then this morning, the way my mum reacted.”

“Yes. Sullivan picked up on it.”

He smiled. “You did as well.”

I chuckled. “And yet when Ambrose told me, I was stunned.”

“Ambrose, eh?”

I recounted what I’d told Mairi about my uncle wanting to see what we’d done to the cottage. “I don’t think he intended to tell me.”

“He’s not had an easy go of it. That’s not to say he doesn’t drive me mad.”

“A sentiment shared by most.” I sighed. “Your mum is probably in agony presently.”

“Where is she?”

“The library. With Sullivan. Oh, and I told her it would be her decision as to how the staff is informed. Although the idea of her serving us dinner doesn’t sit right with me.”

Gus nodded. “I dare say it will be easier for her that way. Falling into the role she’s played most of her life.”

“Understood. Come.” I motioned for him to follow me. “You go in first,” I said once we reached the library.

The moment she saw him, Mairi jumped from her chair and rushed over to him. When he held out his arms, she fell into his embrace.

“Forgive me,” she said through her tears.

“Nothing to forgive, Mum.”

“I should’ve told you. I kept the secret all these years.”

“You did what you had to do, and no one, including Ash, faults you for it.”

“He’s right,” I added when she raised her gaze to mine. “There is the matter of dinner.”

She gasped. “Yes. I must return to the kitchens.”

“That isn’t what I meant. I will leave the decision to you. However, there will be a place for you at the table this evening. If you’re not ready for everyone to know, I will respect that. Just know that I very much want you to join us.”

“Thank you, sir, err, David.”

I loved that only she and Sullivan used my given name. It felt right.

“Shall we set an extra place at the table?” Gus asked.

“Thank you, but not this year, son.”

He nodded. “Understood.” He held out his arm, and she took it. “Be right back,” he said over his shoulder.

As soon as they were out of the room, Sullivan stood, then we walked toward each other and embraced. “I think that went well, didn’t you?” she asked.

“As well as could be expected.”

“Gus knew?”

“He suspected, but this morning confirmed it for him.”

“Is he angry with her?”

“Not at all. He understands the position she’s been in all these years.”

Sullivan hugged me tighter. “I love that the two of you have been so close.”

“I do as well. He’s the brother I never had. I feel that in my heart.”

“As do I,” I heard Gus say from the doorway.

I released Sullivan, and he and I embraced. “Can we sit for a moment?” I asked.

He shut the library doors and joined Sullivan and me in front of the fireplace, where she sat between us.

“I’d rather no one know until my mum decides she’s ready,” he began.

“I’ll respect that decision.”

“Which means you cannot let on.” His eyes bored into mine, and I laughed.

“I am quickly learning my faults this Christmas.”

“Not a fault. A weakness.” He winked.

“I suppose you’ve been compensating for them my entire life.”

Gus’ expression softened. “As you have for me.”

“We’re a good team, cousin.”

He nodded. “We are, Ash. We’ve always been.”

While we agreed not to say anything to Con or Tag, the one thing I had to do at dinner was raise my glass in a toast. “To family,” I said, my eyes meeting Gus’.

At the meal’s conclusion, I invited everyone to join me in the library, where I’d requested dessert be served as a buffet so everyone could pick and choose as they liked. When I saw Fallon standing off on her own, I approached.

“I understand you’d like to relocate.”

Her eyes met mine. “If it wouldn’t be an inconvenience.”

“None at all.” I followed her line of sight to where Con stood. “Is he aware?”

“I broached the subject, saying I thought it might be easier for Sullivan and me to work together.”

“Was he amenable?”

“He seems to be.”

Con looked over at us, and I raised my glass of brandy. While he did the same, something told me he would rather have flipped me off. “Disappointed, perhaps?” I asked.

“I don’t know why he would be. All we do is argue.”

I raised a brow.

“Mostly.”

“The choice is yours. Should you prefer to stay here, you’re more than welcome.”

“I appreciate it.”

Before I could join Sullivan, Tag, Con, and Gus intercepted me. “A word?” Tag asked.

“Here or elsewhere?”

“Here. However, discreetly,” he responded.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve spoken with my contact in Syria,” he said in a hushed tone.

We moved to the opposite side of the room from where the two women stood. “What did you learn?” I asked.

“Several things. First, Eric Weber doesn’t exist, according to the Syrian government.”

“Difficult to offer diplomatic protection to a ghost. He operates under an alias, I presume?”

“Not that I’ve yet been able to uncover one. What is confusing is that the immunity is in the name we know him as.”

“True. What else?”

“According to my source, the man without a name has close ties to Syrian military intelligence.”

“Nightingale also has reason to believe he’s met with both Russian and Chinese military leaders.”

Tag glared at Con. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted his source named. Although I couldn’t see a reason why he wouldn’t want me to know. I glanced over at Fallon and Sullivan, who were in the midst of their own conversation and likely hadn’t overheard.

“Does your source know what about?”

Tag shook his head. “Only that the most logical theory would be biological or chemical weapons development.” He turned to Con.

“I had minimal luck with the encrypted emails we believe were to or from Weber. While I can’t prove either, some of what I read confirmed an unknown suspect’s ties to Russia and China. Not those two countries alone, however.”

“Who else?”

“Those you would predict. Allies of either or both.”

“Any signs that they’re working together against a common enemy?” I asked.

Gus raised a brow. “Aren’t they always?”

“I suppose that’s a given. What else?”

“There’s mention of a secret research facility.”

My eyes widened. “Where?”

Con raised a brow.

“Apologies. It would obviously not be secret if you knew.”

“There was one other I found of particular interest. While the evidence is very vague, I suspect he may be playing both sides against each other. Meaning, the UK’s allies versus the combined efforts of Russia and China.”

“He would do, wouldn’t he?” I muttered.

“The most important piece of information in that communication is a name—Labyrinth.”

“He toys with the demise of civilization,” I said under my breath.

“You may be right,” Con said with a heavy sigh.

“How much of this does Fallon know?” I asked.

“None.”

“Is there a reason she and Sullivan shouldn’t be made aware?”

“Tag, Gus, and I discussed it. The decision to either share or withhold information must be unanimous.”

“Appreciated. I’m in favor of looping them in.”

“As am I,” said Gus.

“Shall I assume the two of you are opposed?”

“Not necessarily,” said Con.

“But?”

When neither Con nor Tag spoke, Gus did. “They’re worried about a leak.”

I shook my head. “The NDA.”

“Versus the biggest and perhaps most important story of their careers?” said Con.

“I don’t believe it’s about their careers.” I glanced at the women a second time. “What do you suggest?”

“We brief them on the Russian and Chinese connection as well as Weber’s yet undiscovered secret identity.”

“And leave out the project name?”

Con nodded. “As well as the UK connection.”

I cocked my head. “That part does seem somewhat obvious. The UK is Tower-Meridian’s base of operation.”

“Which is why it makes the most sense that the secret research facility is here.”

“Meaning in Scotland?”

“Yes,” he responded.

“It gives us something to go on, which makes me think six heads are better than four. Meaning?—”

“We know what you mean, Ash,” snapped Tag.

“Apologies,” I said, noticing both women raised their heads. I leaned in closer. “The danger is they’re both intuitive enough to know we’re holding something back. In which case, they may do the same.”

“While none of us has influence over Fallon, you do with Sullivan, Ash,” said Gus.

“I’ll speak with her. But first, do we all agree that, if I deem it appropriate, I will divulge what you’ve told me?”

“Agreed,” said Gus.

“Agreed,” said Con, although in a more reluctant tone.

All eyes turned to Tag.

He lowered his head and shook it. “I’m against it. However, in order to move forward, we must be unanimous.”

“Are we, then?” I asked.

“We are,” he responded.