Page 14 of His to Keep (Reluctant Vows #6)

G io

Euston Station is a fucking nightmare. There are so many people it’s hard to identify potential threats. It means I have to stay alert to the movements of everyone around me and that’s difficult.

I got a message from Niamh as we were eating breakfast in the dining car to say we’d be picked up by Tristan Dalgleish.

She sent me a photo so I’ll recognize him in case Eilidh doesn’t remember her mother’s cousin, or whoever the guy is to her.

He’ll meet us in the concourse after we get through the security barriers.

“I didn’t realize there were so many cabins on the train,” I say as we’re swept along the platform with the crowd.

“There’s a seating area as well, for people mad enough to want to sit up all night.”

“Right.” I might have preferred to travel that way, even if Eilidh doesn’t sound enthused.

In a seat, I’d have been able to stretch my legs out into the aisle.

As it was, I had to squeeze myself into that tight space.

I had a serious cramp this morning, not that I let Eilidh see I was in discomfort.

It was bad enough her pitying me after she woke me from that nightmare.

I don’t want her to glimpse any more of my weaknesses.

After we go through the security barriers, I pause to scan the vast space before us.

“Will he be standing under the clock?” Eilidh asks.

“What?”

“You know, Brief Encounter . They meet under the clock.” She tilts her head as she studies my bemused expression. “It’s a film. You’ve never seen it?”

“Is that the one about the aliens?”

Eilidh snorts derisively. “No, that’s Close Encounters . Brief Encounter is a wartime classic.”

“Which war?”

“Oh, jeez, the Second World War. You’ve seriously never heard of it?”

“Sorry, kitten, I love movies, but if it doesn’t feature a drag race or a gun battle, I haven’t seen it.”

“That’s so…” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “Ugh!”

I purse my lips. “I’m sorry my masculinity offends you.”

“You can be masculine and still like classic movies.”

“Sure, but…” I’m not sure what argument I was going to make, but it dies on the tip of my tongue as I spot a man weaving through the crowd toward us.

Taller than most of the people around him, he stands out.

He has a presence that marks him as different to the herd, special.

He has the most golden blond hair I’ve ever seen. His lips quirk up as he sees us.

Though I recognize him from the picture Niamh sent me, I want to see if Eilidh remembers.

“You know that guy?” I ask as he draws closer.

Eilidh’s face brightens with a wide smile. “Yeah, it’s Tristan.”

“Giovanni?” he asks as he reaches us.

“Gio.” Nobody calls me Giovanni. Even when she’s scolding me, my mother uses the diminutive version of my name.

“I’m Tristan Dalgleish.” He offers me his hand and I shake it firmly. “I believe Miss Donnelly told you to expect me.”

He speaks with that upper class Scottish accent I’ve encountered on my travels. It utilizes clipped tones and precise enunciation and tells me immediately that this man comes from a privileged background.

“She did,” I confirm. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He turns to the woman by my side.

“And Eilidh. I’m so glad to see you in one piece.

” He pulls her in for a hug. Jealousy rears its head for a moment and then ducks back down when I remember this man is no threat to me.

His family was part of the group that decided Eilidh and I should marry. “I’m sorry about everything.”

Eilidh swallows so hard I hear the gulp. She hasn’t talked to me about what happened on the night her parents and siblings were murdered, but any hint of sympathy for her plight appears to upset her. She steps back from Tristan.

“Shall we get out of here?” he suggests. “There are too many people around.”

“Lead the way.” As far as I can tell, there are at least four exits from this place, and I don’t know which one to take.

Holding Eilidh’s hand tightly, I follow Tristan.

A bodyguard falls into step behind us. He’s obviously very discreet because despite being six foot three and built like the proverbial brick outhouse, I didn’t spot him.

We make our way outside to where a BMW is idling at the curbside.

Tristan’s bodyguard takes my backpack from me and puts it in the trunk while Eilidh and I get into the back of the car.

Tristan sits in the center row and his bodyguard and a driver, who’s an older, skinnier man, take up the front.

“We’ll drive you to the base to catch the flight and Damiano will pick you up in Florence.”

“Base?” Eilidh asks.

“Yes. You’ll be traveling on a military flight. It’s transporting soldiers to a training location, but we’ve arranged for it to make a quick stop in Italy.”

“How did you pull that off?”

He gives her a look as if to suggest she’s silly for even asking. I guess when your brother’s high up in the political establishment, anything is possible.

“I thought Joe might be the one to meet us,” Eilidh says.

“He has his hands full right now. There’s a load of stuff to deal with before the election and he’s been overseeing your father’s business interests. The legitimate ones, that is. He had to hand the other stuff over to Niamh.”

That’s not surprising. If the Dalglieshes are trying to maintain the image of the perfect political family, they have to be seen to distance themselves from their relatives’ criminal activity.

“What happens if I want to get involved in the business?” Eilidh surprises me by asking.

I had no idea she’d be interested in that and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Though I’m not going to insist my wife sits at home and pops out babies, I’d rather she didn’t dedicate all her time to working.

A multinational business requires a lot of attention.

Tristan frowns. “Your father left everything to his sons with the strict instruction that his daughters’ comfort be ensured for the rest of their lives.”

“He trusted the sons to look after their sisters?” I’m amazed he didn’t leave anything specifically to Eilidh. Although my father trusted Antonio to take care of the rest of the family, he left us each a personal bequest. Even Olivia received a small fortune.

“We were close,” Eilidh says. “Jamie and Alexander would have given us a fair share.”

“I’m sure they would,” Tristan says, “but the Alexander issue remains.”

“What issue?” I ask.

“My brother is missing, not dead,” Eilidh replies. “So, I can’t access anything until seven years have passed and I can declare him…” Her breath catches at the back of her throat. “Dead.”

“Exactly.” Tristan smiles kindly. “But Niamh has been putting aside a cut of what she earns from your family’s other business interests.”

“Why would she do that if everyone believed we were all dead?”

“Well.” Tristan adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. “She probably wanted to be sure you really were gone since you and Alexander were unaccounted for.”

“I suppose.” Eilidh doesn’t sound convinced by that reason, but she doesn’t challenge Tristan on it.

“I’m sure Niamh will be generous if you need money.” The other man looks at me. “I don’t think that will be a problem, though.”

“It won’t be. My wife will want for nothing.” I ignore Eilidh’s glower. “But, of course, when the time comes, if she decides she wants some small part in her family business, I expect cooperation.”

Tristan inclines his head. “That won’t be up to me, but I’m sure Eilidh won’t have any trouble getting what she wants.”

When we pull up at heavily guarded gates at the airbase, Tristan’s driver deals with the security procedures. Judging by the friendly way the soldier on duty greets him, I’d say he’s well known around here.

“Jacob’s ex-RAF,” Tristan explains. “He’s well known in military circles.”

“And now he drives for you,” Eilidh says.

“Not usually. He volunteered today since your presence on the flight has to be handled with efficiency and discretion. He mainly advises Alasdair on foreign affairs.”

“Useful guy to have around.” I glance out of the window as we pass through the gates.

“You have no idea how true that is,” Tristan says.

We drive out onto the airfield and draw to a stop next to a large military aircraft. Tristan shakes my hand and hugs Eilidh goodbye as we’re met by a young red-haired woman in the smart uniform of the Royal Air Force.

“My name is Theresa. Please follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

Eilidh sniggers and leans close to whisper to me, “Someone really stretched their imagination to come up with those fake names.”

We follow Theresa up the steps, and she shows us to a small cabin at the front of the plane, which has only eight seats. I guess the soldiers we’re hitching a ride with will be sitting in the back of the aircraft.

“May I get you anything?” Theresa asks as Eilidh and I sit in the front seats to the right of the aisle.

“Just some water,” I answer for both of us as we fasten our seatbelts.

“Certainly.” Theresa goes to the rear of the cabin and returns a few moments later with two bottles of water. “We’re scheduled for takeoff in five minutes, so I’ll leave you to settle in. If you need anything once we’re airborne, just press the call button above your head.”

“Thank you, Theresa.” I stretch my legs out. This may not be a typical passenger plane, but the seats are comfortable and there’s plenty of legroom.

“Do you feel like Tristan was being evasive?” Eilidh asks out of the blue.

“About what?”

She shrugs. “My family business. Niamh putting money aside.” Her forehead creases into a frown. “I have no idea why, but I feel like people know something I don’t.”

“Like what?”

“I wish I knew. Danny gave me that impression too. He got me off the subject of Cara Drummond pretty fast.”

Perhaps she’s more perceptive than I am because I didn’t notice him deflecting.

“Why are you so hung up on Cara Drummond?”

“I told you, Gio. She’s innocent in all of this and I’m afraid she’s going to get hurt.”

“That’s really not your concern.”

Eilidh’s eyes flash with anger. “Of course it is. We’re both in a bad situation. You got me out and now…”

“You feel like you should be the one to save her?”

“Jason never laid a hand on me, but I saw how he hurt women. I have to at least try to help her.”

It’s clear Eilidh feels strongly about this. She’s not going to allow herself to relax and enjoy her new life while this other woman’s fate is in the balance.

“Okay.” I take my phone out and send a message to Niamh, asking her to arrange for someone to go and warn the Drummond girl that Henry is coming for her. When I’ve sent it, I turn the phone so Eilidh can see what I wrote. “Does that set your mind at ease?”

“Yes.” She catches me off guard by kissing my cheek. “Thank you.”

I turn to the window and watch as the plane taxis to the runway. It’s not until we take off that I feel I can breathe again. I need to be with family, people I trust, until I know Eilidh is safe.

“Tell me about the Dalglieshes.” I’m curious about the men who arranged our safe passage to Italy.

I also want to distract Eilidh whose skin has turned a concerning shade of gray since we first lifted off the ground.

It’s noisier than a standard passenger plane.

The engine roars and there’s a rattling sound that’s unsettling, but most likely nothing to worry about.

“I don’t really know my mother’s side of the family. They pretty much cut us off when she married my dad. I do know Campbell Dalgleish is fiercely ambitious and he pushes his sons to broaden his influence. He’s like a Mafia don, but he hides it behind diplomatic niceties.”

“You think he’s involved in shady deals?”

Eilidh huffs out a breath. “The public would shit a brick if they ever found out the things he’s into.”

“And his sons?”

“Alasdair might be the next prime minister, but I can guarantee he’s killed men. Tristan’s more of a dealmaker and Joe’s an enforcer. He probably has a higher body count than you.”

“That wouldn’t be difficult. I’ve only killed twice.”

“Twice?” Is it insulting that Eilidh sounds surprised? It makes me wonder what sort of man she thinks I am.

“Yeah, once at my initiation into the family business, and I shot a guy during a raid on the docks once.”

“So, you’re not a ruthless killer?”

“Oh, don’t put on rose-colored glasses now, kitten.

I’ve tortured my fair share of men when it would have been more merciful to put a bullet between their eyes.

” My involvement in interrogations pales in comparison to Leo and Matteo, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of traitors too.

“I don’t have any compunction about ending a life and I’ve stood by and watched it happen more times than I care to admit.

” As she rests her head against the back of her seat, I stroke her hair.

“I’m not a good man, Eilidh, but I’ll take care of you. Always.”

She closes her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer. A few minutes later, she drifts off to sleep. I guess, if nothing else, she trusts that I’ll protect her. It’s enough for now. The rest can come later.