Page 29 of Edinburgh Escape (Brotherhood Protectors International #5)

“I’ll take what I can get for as long as I can.” Maggie pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Callum dragged her up closer to him and claimed her mouth in a crushing kiss that stole his own breath away.

When he finally broke away, he knew he would have a hard time walking away from her, but he couldn’t think about that now. Someone in the house had pushed her down the stairs of the hidden room.

“We can’t do this all day.”

“No?” Maggie drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why not?”

“Because someone tried to hurt you. I assume it’s someone in the manor.” Callum took her hand and led the way back to their room. Once there, he grabbed the journal. “Where did you get this?”

Maggie shrugged. “I found it under my pillow when I came back to the room.”

“Did you see anyone coming or going from the room?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Whoever left it might have followed you to the library.”

“I was alone in the library,” Maggie said. “Or at least I thought I was until I was pushed.”

With the journal in one hand, he took Maggie’s other hand and went back downstairs and into Ewan’s office.

“Lord Drummond, we have a problem,” he said without excusing himself.

Ewan glanced up from the stack of ledgers. “We do. I heard from your computer hacker, Lucie. She traced the money and found that it was being deposited into a bank in?—”

“—Montana,” Callum finished.

Ewan’s brow twisted. “How did you figure that out?”

“Because someone conveniently left this journal under Maggie’s pillow. It explains a lot about your father.”

“Whose journal is it?” Ewan asked.

Maggie’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Your mother’s, Lady Elizabeth.”

Ewan’s frown deepened. “My mother’s? I never knew she kept one. You say someone left it under your pillow?”

Maggie nodded. “That’s where I found it.”

“You have to assume whoever put it there knows the manor and knows where you are inside it. So, we need to be alert at all times.” Ewan shook his head. “Who would have kept my mother’s journal?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect it was the same person who shoved me down the stairs to the secret torture room,” Maggie said.

“Torture room?” Ewan stared at Maggie as if she’d lost a few marbles. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you not aware of the secret room hidden behind a bookshelf in the library?” Maggie asked.

Ewan shook his head. “As a child, I was all over the manor. I would have found it. You say it’s in the library?”

Maggie nodded. “I found it and then someone pushed me down the stairs and shut the door, effectively locking me inside. If Callum hadn’t come along when he did, I’d still be there.”

“The depths of my father’s treachery astounds me.” Ewan shoved a hand through his hair. “How did you know where to look for this hidden room?”

“It’s in the journal you’re holding in your hand.

Your mother said that your father—” Maggie swallowed hard.

“That your father raped the nanny in a secret torture room hidden in the library. You mother forced your father to pay for the nanny to find a new home and provide child support for her child.”

Ewan’s mouth formed a thin, tight line. “Bloody bastard.” He shook his head.

“I take it that nanny was your mother. There’s no excuse for rape.

None. We can only hope he’s rotting in hell for what he did.

” He glanced toward the ledgers and back to Callum.

“That all lines up with the information I just received from your purple-haired techie. The mystery money my father was wire transferring went to a bank in Eagle Rock, Montana.”

“The money your mother made him pay in child support,” Maggie said.

“I wasn’t here when my mother died. When I returned from my deployment, her room had been cleared of all her belongings.” He met Maggie’s gaze.

“Who would’ve cleared her belongings?” Maggie asked. “Your father?”

Ewan snorted. “I doubt it. He’d have had Mrs. Jones do it, and she would’ve turned the journal over to my father. In which case, he would’ve burned it. I can ask Mrs. Jones about it.”

“Ask me what?” a voice called out from the door to the study.

Callum turned to find Mrs. Jones carrying a tea tray.

“Your afternoon tea, sir,” Mrs. Jones set the tray on a table in front of a Victorian settee. “You wanted to ask a question of me?” Once she’d divested herself of her burden, she straightened and faced Ewan.

“Yes, Mrs. Jones.” Ewan held up his mother’s journal. “Did you leave this in Ms. McKendrick’s room today?”

The woman’s brow dipped. “No, sir.”

“Do you recognize it?” Ewan asked.

“No, sir.” Mrs. Jones’s eyebrows rose. “What is it?”

“My mother’s journal.”

Her eyes widened. “In all the years I knew Lady Elizabeth, I didn’t know she kept one.” She tilted her head. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan shook his head. “No, Mrs. Jones. Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced at the people in the room. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be in the kitchen helping Cook with dinner.” Mrs. Jones left the study, closing the door softly behind her.

Callum waited enough time for Mrs. Jones to be well out of earshot before asking, “Do you believe her?”

Ewan’s gaze had followed the housekeeper out of the room. He still stared at the closed door. “I have no reason not to. She’s been with the family for a very long time.”

“She spoke with me about my mother,” Maggie said. “I would think she’d have shared the journal or knowledge of it with me at that time. She knew my mother was pregnant when she left, but she didn’t seem to know who the father might have been.”

“Or she didn’t want to tell you what happened to your mother,” Callum suggested. “Maybe she put the book under your pillow so that you could read it for yourself.”

Maggie stared at the journal Ewan still held. “I didn’t get that feeling when Ewan asked if she knew what the book was. She appeared genuinely clueless. But you could be right.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” Ewan called out.

Gregory stepped in. “Lord Drummond, your guest, Mr. Atkins, has arrived.”

“Show him in,” Ewan said.

Gregory opened the door wider.

A man entered wearing dark slacks, a white button-down shirt and a tweed blazer. His gaze moved from Ewan to Callum. “Callum McCall?”

Callum raised hand. “I’m Callum.”

The man nodded. “I’m Peter Atkins. Hammerson said you might need a little assistance on this assignment.”

Callum moved forward and gripped the man’s hand. “Thanks for coming.” He turned to Maggie. “This is Maggie McKendrick.”

“Ah, the client,” Atkins said and shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. McKendrick. We’ll do our best to keep you and your family safe. I have a daughter, a little younger than you, who was kidnapped. Hammerson and his team helped me get her back. Alive.”

“That’s reassuring,” Maggie said. “Thank you for coming.”

Atkins turned to Ewan and grinned. “I’d recognize this man anywhere. Ewan Drummond. We served together in Afghanistan back when you were a young pup fresh out of SAS training.”

Ewan shook the man’s hand. “You saved my bloody arse when I almost stepped on an IED.”

“If I recall, you covered for me when my weapon jammed.” Atkins clapped Ewan on his back. “Good to see you again. Wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Me, too.” Ewan waved toward the settee and armchairs on the opposite end of the room from his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

As if on cue, Mrs. Jones appeared with another tray, this one filled with more teacups, a second teapot and a stand holding muffins, finger sandwiches and pastries. She set the tray next to the first one she’d brought and left the room.

For the next thirty minutes, Callum, Ewan and Maggie brought Atkins up to date on what had occurred thus far.

“Hammerson is on his way and should be here within a couple of hours. Have you seen any signs of the Kholdov Coalition thus far?”

“No,” Ewan said. “My staff is on alert. Should they see anyone enter the property, they’re to inform me immediately.”

Atkins glanced from Ewan to Maggie and back. “There is no mistaking you for a Drummond, Ms. McKendrick.”

Maggie’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything.

Callum reached for her hand and held it while the men talked through security and weak points on the property.

“All the doors and windows are secured,” Ewan said. “No one leaves the house without one of the menfolk for protection.”

A soft knock sounded on the door.

Before Ewan could grant entry, Bryce poked his head inside. “I want to ride Montana. Will someone come with me?”

“Montana is his horse,” Ewan said and glanced around at the adults surrounding him.

“Is your horse in a barn or stable?” Atkins asked.

“In the stable,” Bryce responded.

Atkins turned back to Ewan. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the stable and any other outbuildings there are, as well as viewing the perimeter,” Atkins said.

Ewan waved the boy closer. “Bryce, this is Mr. Atkins. He’s come to visit for a few days. Mr. Atkins, this is my brother, Bryce.”

Bryce entered the room and reached out to shake Atkins’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Atkins.”

Callum was amazed at the boy’s manners and decorum. He was like an old man in a little body.

“The pleasure is mine, Bryce,” Atkins said as if speaking to an adult, not a child. “I’d love to see Montana.”

Bryce beamed up at the newcomer. “He’s a horse, not a pony.”

“Of course he is,” Atkins said and held out his hand. “Lead the way.”

Callum, Ewan and Maggie followed Bryce and Peter Atkins through the house and down to the stable.

Ewan opened the large barn doors and held them while the others entered.

Bryce ran forward. “Montana! We’re going for a ride.” When he reached the horse’s stall, he stopped. “Montana?”

That morning when they’d visited the horse, Montana had poked his head over the top of the gate as soon as Bryce had approached. He didn’t this time.

Bryce pulled back the latch, opened the stall gate and screamed, “Montana!”

Ewan and Callum rushed forward.

Ewan pulled Bryce back from the stall.

Maggie pulled the boy into her arms.

Callum turned to find the horse lying on its side, its breathing labored.

Ewan, Callum and Atkins entered the stall.

Callum looked for any possible injuries. When he found none, he shook his head.

“We need to get Alastair in here,” Ewan said. “This horse is sick. He might know what to do. I’ll notify the local veterinarian, as well.”

Callum looked up to check on how Bryce was taking it.

Bryce wasn’t standing outside the gate. Neither was Maggie. She’d probably taken him back to the house to his mother.

With Ewan on the phone, Callum started back toward the house.

Alastair came running across the yard. “Master Bryce and Ms. McKendrick said Montana’s down.”

“Where are Bryce and Maggie?” Callum asked.

“They were heading into the manor,” Alastair said. “Show me the horse.”

Callum led Alastair back into the barn, where Ewan and Atkins were standing inside the stall. Ewan was on the phone describing the horse’s symptoms to the veterinarian.

With Alastair there and Ewan on the phone with the veterinarian, they didn’t need Callum. He needed to get back to Maggie and Bryce.

Callum left the stable and jogged back to the manor. Cook let him in through the kitchen door. “Have you seen Bryce and Maggie?” he asked.

She shook her head. “They were headed out to the stable with you the last I saw them.”

Callum hurried out of the kitchen and down the hallway, peering into open doorways in case they’d stopped in a sitting room or the study.

When he found no sign of them, he headed up the stairs and ran for Bryce’s room.

Maggie and the boy weren’t there. He ran toward the room he’d shared with Maggie. It was empty.

By that time, his heartbeat hammered against his ribs. He stepped out onto the landing where he found Fiona coming out of Bryce’s room.

“Have you seen Bryce?” he asked.

Fiona frowned. “I thought he was with you.”

“He’s not. His horse is sick. I assumed Maggie brought him back to the manor.” Callum started down the stairs.

Fiona followed, her voice rising. “I haven’t seen either of them. Are you sure they didn’t go back to the stable?”

“I didn’t see them. I’ll go back and check.”

“I’m coming with you,” Fiona said, running to keep up with Callum as he raced through the manor and out through the back door.

When Callum was halfway across the yard, Ewan and Atkins emerged from the stable.

Ewan frowned when he saw Callum running toward him.

“Are Bryce and Maggie inside the stable?” Callum asked, knowing the answer before Ewan spoke.

“No. I thought they would be with you.”

“They aren’t. As far as I could tell, they’re not in the manor.”

“What’s wrong?” Alastair asked from the open stable door.

“Bryce and Maggie are missing,” Callum said.

Alastair shook his head. “I just saw them. They were heading to the manor.”

“They aren’t there,” Callum said, a terrible weight settling low in his gut.

“We need to spread out and check the garage, the garden and the grounds,” Ewan said.

“I’ll check the garage,” Callum said.

Ewan pointed to Atkins. “Go wide, check the perimeter. Alastair, check the garden on the south lawn. Bryce likes to play there.”

“I’ll look through the house again,” Fiona said and hurried away.

The men took off at a run.

Callum raced to the garage, where one of the overhead doors was up and the long, black car was backed into the bay. “Maggie?” he called out. “Bryce?”

No one answered.

He searched inside and all around the building and found nothing.

Ewan, Atkins and Alastair met him at the entrance to the manor. Gregory, Mrs. Jones, Cook and Fiona came out, frowns pulling their brows downward.

They hadn’t found them.

Callum pulled out his cell phone and hit Ace Hammerson’s number before he remembered the man was on a plane headed his way. He called Dmytro instead.

“McCall, this is Dmytro. Did Atkins make it?”

“He’s here,” Callum replied. “But we’ve lost Maggie and Bryce.”