Page 19 of Edinburgh Escape (Brotherhood Protectors International #5)

Holy smokes! Callum was right. They shouldn’t have done it.

Now all she could think about was doing it again.

And again.

The door creaked open behind Maggie.

“I came to escort you to the dining room,” Mrs. Jones said. “If you’re ready, you can follow me.”

Maggie smoothed her hands over the dress and squared her shoulders. She pasted a smile on her face as she turned toward the older woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Jones. We’re ready.” She crossed the floor, hooked her hand through the crook of Callum’s arm and followed Mrs. Jones out of the room.

The housekeeper led the way down the stairs and into the hallway between the twin staircases, which led to the rear of the house.

They passed through a room with a massive display of spears, bayonets and old wooden rifles arranged in artistic sunbursts across the walls.

At the other end of the room, a corridor led into a dining room with a table long enough to seat twenty guests.

Five settings had been laid out at one end, with a frightening number of forks.

Maggie had no clue how to use most of them.

A massive chandelier, dripping with hundreds of crystals, hung over the table, casting light over the porcelain plates and glinting off the shiny silverware. The room was beautiful, stately and way out of Maggie’s economic sphere.

Mrs. Jones left Callum and Maggie in the dining room as Ewan and Fiona entered the room behind them.

“Excellent,” Ewan said. “Just in time to take our seats. Cook has a traditional Scottish dinner prepared for tonight of haggis, neeps and tatties.”

Maggie tilted her head. “I’ve heard of haggis but not neeps and tatties.”

“Haggis is a combination of meat, oatmeal, onion and spices.” Fiona entered the dining room and stood to the right of the head of the table. “Neeps are smashed turnips, and tatties are mashed potatoes.”

“Will Bryce be joining us?” Maggie asked.

Fiona shook her head. “When he isn’t feeling well, he takes his evening meals in his room.”

Maggie felt bad for the little guy and wished she could help him get well soon. She’d always had her meals with her mother, not confined to her room. She could imagine how lonely he was. She’d find his bedroom after dinner and check in on him.

Mrs. Jones served the dishes, placing steaming plates in front of each person.

The butler went from person to person pouring wine.

Once they were all served, Ewan lifted his fork in his left hand and cocked an eyebrow as if to say, You may begin . “Please, enjoy.”

Maggie gathered her fork and knife, holding them in the same manner as Ewan, sliced off a sample of haggis and took a tentative bite.

She’d heard that those who tasted haggis either loved it or hated it.

She popped the morsel into her mouth and chewed, savoring the spices. It was like nothing she’d ever tasted.

“What do you think?” Ewan asked.

She nodded. “I like it.”

Her half-brother laughed. “Good on you. Most tourists dislike our traditional meal.”

Maggie dipped her fork in the turnips and tried them as well. They didn’t have much flavor, but she ate them anyway. The tatties, or potatoes, were light and fluffy.

She glanced toward Callum, who’d quickly eaten everything on his plate. With a grin, she asked, “Taste like home?”

He nodded. “Some of the best I’ve had. I must thank the cook.”

Maggie took a couple more bites, chewed and swallowed. “I understand there have been some disconcerting incidents here at the manor.”

Ewan’s lips twisted. “I suppose you heard about the brakes and the tree swing.”

“We did,” Maggie said. “I’m happy no one was badly injured.”

Fiona shivered. “I’m not sure I’ll be driving again anytime soon. I was lucky I was able to stop when I did.” She held up a hand. “I’ll leave the driving to Alastair.”

Maggie glanced from Fiona to Ewan. “Alastair?”

“Our chauffeur and stable master,” Ewan said.

“His family has been with the Drummonds as far back as the eighteen hundreds. Alastair took over after his father passed away. We don’t have as many horses as they did before motor cars were invented, so the chauffeur's duties fell on the stablemaster. Alastair has Johnny, the groom, who helps clean stalls and exercise the horses. But if you need a driver, Alastair is our chauffeur.”

“Thank you, but we rented a car,” Callum said. “I prefer to drive myself.”

Ewan nodded. “I feel the same. I prefer to have control of the vehicle.”

A loud noise echoed through the hallways, coming from near the front of the mansion. Shouts followed, moving closer.

Ewan and Fiona exchanged a glance before he pushed back his chair and stood. “Please, excuse me.”

He hadn’t made it out of the dining room before a stout man with a barrel chest and heavy dark brows entered the dining room.

The butler hurried in behind the man, trying to grab his arm.

“Touch me again, and I’ll knock your lights out,” the belligerent man said.

Ewan waved a hand. “It’s okay, Gregory. I’ll take care of him.”

“Damn right, he will. My cousin doesn’t throw family out like the trash, do ya?”

Gregory, the butler, backed away, a frown settling across his brow. He didn’t leave the room but stood his ground, ready to interfere if the newcomer got out of hand.

“Rory,” Ewan waved a hand toward the table. “We’re in the middle of dinner. Would you care to join us?”

Rory’s gaze swept across the plates of half-eaten food, and he wrinkled his nose. “You’re having haggis? Why? You have enough money now that you don’t have to eat that rubbish.”

Ewan gave his cousin a half-smile. “We happen to like it. You’re welcome to join us. I’m sure Cook can provide an alternative you’ll like better.”

“I don’t need your food,” Rory said. “I came to talk with you, the new Lord Drummond, about that business opportunity I mentioned a few days ago.”

Ewan cocked an eyebrow. “As you can see, we’re at dinner. If you want to talk about business, you’ll have to wait until we’ve finished. Better yet, you can schedule an appointment with me during the day.”

Rory’s frown deepened into a scowl. “I need an answer now.”

Ewan’s chin rose, and his eyes narrowed. “I told you that I had to think about it. I want to have our solicitor look into the details and run a background check on the other people involved. That takes time. Now, if you aren’t joining us for dinner, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“If I say the business is legit, it’s legit. You don’t need to waste money you could be investing in it on a bloody solicitor or anything else. I’m family. You should trust me.”

Ewan cast a glance at the people seated at the table. “Please excuse me while I take care of this.” He advanced on Rory, hooked his arm and started to usher him out of the dining room. “Let’s take this matter to my office.”

Maggie felt bad for Ewan. This man, Rory, cousin or not, had been rude in front of Ewan’s guests. Ewan was trying to handle it without upsetting the people at the table.

Callum tensed beside her. Maggie had no doubt he was ready to back Ewan if the intruder got more violent.

Rory jerked his arm free. “We’ll talk here. You have the money now that you’re the high-and-mighty Lord Drummond. You might not need it, but I do. You can afford to help a cousin out.”

“I’m not in the habit of throwing away money on a blind investment,” Ewan said.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t help any more than your father. You’re a stingy old bastard, just like him. The only way anyone got money out of your old man was to sleep with him.”

“Let’s take this discussion into another room.” Ewan reached for Rory’s arm again.

Rory swatted Ewan’s arm and stalked toward Maggie.

Her heart in her throat, Maggie got halfway out of her chair, ready to stand her ground or move in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, Callum stood, blocking Rory’s path to Maggie.