Page 15 of Edinburgh Escape (Brotherhood Protectors International #5)

A camera mounted on the corner of the stone column looked almost incongruous to the gate that could have been older than Callum’s great, great-grandfather. Many of the stone structures and buildings in Scotland had been passed down from generation to generation for centuries.

When he was young, Callum had dreamed of buying one of the old, stone mansions that had fallen into disrepair and rebuilding it to its former glory.

Life in the military hadn’t paid much, but he hadn’t needed to spend much.

Most of his pay had gone into investments that had grown in value over the years.

He could potentially do it now, but hadn’t had the heart to get on with his life when his teammates’ lives had ended.

Callum drew in a breath, focused on the present and lowered the window. He reached out and pressed the button on the metal box set back in the stone structure.

“State your name and purpose,” a staticky voice said.

“Callum McCall, accompanying Maggie McKendrick for her three o’clock appointment with Ewan Drummond.”

“Proceed to the main house,” the voice said.

The wrought iron gate slowly swung open.

Callum drove the rental car through the entrance and followed a winding road lined with towering trees on either side. A seasoned combat soldier, he instinctively studied the deep shadows.

Maggie had been attacked twice now. If the Drummonds were behind the attacks, he’d need to be on his toes and ready should more of the men in black appear.

They passed a small stone cottage on the right, probably what had once been the gatekeeper’s quarters.

The trees overhanging the road gave a dark tunnel-like effect, blocking out much of the cloud-muted daylight and giving the feeling of dusk.

When they emerged from the tunnel of trees, the estate opened up onto a manicured lawn with garden patches tastefully scattered around stately trees or the graceful arches of ivy-covered arbors.

The crowning glory was a gray stone manor with cylindrical turrets on the corners and rows of arched windows across the front. Stone steps led up to a giant black wooden door.

Callum drove the car up to the circular drive and around a fountain, squirting water out of the mouths of stone fish. Petunias in shades of pink, purple, red and white spilled out of stone flower boxes ringing the fountain.

Maggie pressed a hand to her chest and stared up at the mansion, her eyes growing rounder as Callum parked. “This is an estate?” she whispered. “It’s more like a castle.”

The door opened. A man in a black suit emerged and descended the steps in time to open Maggie’s door.

Callum left the driver’s seat and quickly rounded the hood of the car, ready to run interference between Maggie and the man holding her door.

As Maggie got out, the man in the suit stood ramrod straight. “Ms. McKendrick, my name is Gregory. I’m the butler. Welcome to Drummond Manor.” To Callum, he said. “You may leave your keys in the vehicle. I’ll have our chauffeur move it.”

A long black car rolled up beside their rental and a tall man with dark hair and heavy eyebrows unfolded himself from the driver’s seat.

Gregory looked past Maggie and addressed the driver. “Alastair, Lord Drummond has postponed his trip to Edinburgh. You may take the car back to the garage. Then you can come back and park our guests’ vehicle in the garage.”

Alastair’s brow dipped low as he studied Maggie and Callum. Without saying a word, he gave a brief nod, climbed back into the car and drove away.

He waved a hand toward the door. “If you’ll follow me, Lord Drummond is waiting for you in the sitting room.” Without waiting for her response, he pivoted on his heel, marched up the stairs and opened the door.

Callum joined Maggie, rested a hand at the small of her back and walked with her up the steps and across the threshold. Whatever happened, he would be there for her.

As Callum passed Gregory, the butler asked, “Your name, sir?”

“Callum McCall,” he responded.

The butler led them across a cavernous marble foyer and into a room with a Victorian-era settee and matching chairs with intricately carved wooden legs, curved backs and floral upholstery. Beautiful tapestries and ornate paintings covered the walls.

A man wearing tailored slacks and a brown tweed blazer stood with his back to the door, leaning his arm against a white fireplace with gold trim and delicate porcelain figurines decorating the mantel.

The butler cleared his throat and announced, “Ms. McKendrick and Mr. Callum McCall to see you, sir.”

The man in the tweed blazer turned, and immediately, Callum recognized the striking resemblance. He could only be Ewan Drummond, Maggie’s half-brother.

Maggie gasped.

“Ms. McKendrick.” He crossed the room, a crooked smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “If I’d had any doubt about your lineage, all my doubts have been dispelled.” He held out both hands to her.

She placed her hands in his, her eyes round, tears welling.

Callum stood close, ready to step between them if Maggie’s half-brother threatened to hurt her.

Ewan chuckled. “Startling, isn’t it? The gene for red, curly hair is incredibly strong among the Drummonds as far back as anyone can remember.”

Maggie blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually so emotional.

” She stopped. “No. Actually, I am,” she said and gave a shaky laugh.

“It’s just that all my life I wondered where I’d gotten my red curly hair and green eyes.

My mother had blond hair and blue eyes. She was taller, slender and athletic.

I looked nothing like her, and she never told me anything about my father. I assumed he was dead. Until?—”

“—the DNA test and the ancestry app,” Ewan concluded. “Well, it’s nice to know I have a sister.” He squeezed her hands and released them, turning to Callum, a hand outstretched. “Ewan Drummond.”

Callum took the man’s hand. “Callum McCall.” The man had a firm handshake.

Ewan’s eyes narrowed. “Callum McCall,” he said as if rolling the name over in his mind. “Sounds familiar.” He tipped his head to the side. “Did you attend the Duke of York military school?”

Callum shook his head. “Nothing so high-brow. I’m a product of Glasgow Gaelic School.”

Ewan smiled. “A Glaswegian, are ya?”

His chin rising proudly, Callum nodded. “Aye.”

Ewan’s gaze softened. “My battle buddy through all of my deployments was a Glaswegian. Saved my arse several times. I’d give my life for that man.”

Callum’s brow dipped. “You served?”

Ewan nodded. “Entered the British Air Force straight out of school and served in the SAS. Left three years ago after catching some shrapnel. My running days were over.” He patted his left leg. “And you?”

Callum’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “SAS.”

Ewan’s eyes widened. “Cal McCall. I thought I’d heard that name. Your team spent more time in Syria while we were cleaning up in Afghanistan. We probably ran into each other somewhere in our careers.”

Callum nodded. The man’s red hair did seem familiar. Many of Callum’s memories of his time in SAS revolved around his team, most of whom were now gone.

“Ewan, are you going to introduce us to your guests?” a woman’s voice sounded behind Callum.

He and Maggie turned toward the sound to find a tall, slender woman with platinum blond hair and brown eyes standing at the entrance to the sitting room. She wore a tailored pantsuit, classic heels and a pearl necklace.

“Ah, Fiona, come meet my sister, Maggie McKendrick.” Ewan waved the woman forward.

As Fiona moved further into the room, something moved behind her. She turned and glanced down at a little boy with bright red curls. “It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” she said softly.

The little boy slipped his hand in hers and stared at Maggie and Callum, his eyes round and wary.

“Maggie, Cal, this is Fiona Drummond, my beautiful stepmother.” Ewan crossed to the woman and child and swung the boy up into his arms. “And this little guy is my brother, Bryce.”

The boy grinned and wrapped an arm around Ewan’s neck.

“Bryce, my boy, come meet your big sister, Maggie.” Ewan carried the boy over to Maggie and set him on the floor, squatting beside him.

Maggie’s eyes widened and filled with tears. She slowly knelt beside the little boy to get on his level and held out her hand. “Hello, Bryce. It’s nice to meet you.”

The child took her hand and shook it, his face solemn. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice soft and the words so grown up for one so small. When she released his hand, he reached up and touched a strand of her curly red hair. “It’s like mine.”

She nodded. “Yes, it is.” Maggie looked up at Ewan. “And like his.”

“I thought sisters were smaller,” he said.

Maggie laughed. “I once was small like you. Then I grew.”

His brow puckered. “You sound funny.”

“I grew up in a place called the United States. Do you know where that is?”

He nodded. “My teacher showed me where the United States was on a map. It’s really big.”

“Yes, it is,” Maggie said. “People talk funny there. Like me. I’m a teacher back where I come from with students just like you.”

“I like my teacher,” Bryce said.

“I bet she’s nice.” Maggie straightened and held out her hand to Fiona. “It’s nice to meet you. Your son is very nice.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at Maggie’s hand. She looked back up without taking the proffered hand. “Why are you here?” she asked, “and who is this man?”

“She’s here because I invited her,” Ewan said.

Maggie nodded.

“And I’m Callum McCall,” Callum said, “her fiancé.”

Fiona’s frown moved from Maggie to Callum. “A man dies, and the vultures circle.”

“Now, Fiona,” Ewan said. “Maggie and I found each other on the ancestry app. That DNA test I sent off got a match. We exchanged emails, and I invited her to meet the family here in Scotland. Besides, it’s just like Master Bryce said, I always wanted a sister. Isn’t that right, my man?”

Bryce nodded and looked up at his mother. “Can we keep her?”