Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rafe
I can think of nothing I'd rather do right now than beat this man to death with a large brick. But I'll reserve that impulse for later, if necessary. Though I might sometimes behave like a caveman, I do have standards. One is that I do not commit murder in front of my son. I won't do that in front of Iona's daughters or Courtney and Eric either. If I truly wanted to beat Hubert's brains out, I'd haul him into the deep woods first to take him out in private.
Never in my life have I even considered such thoughts. Meeting and falling for Iona has changed me. I would commit any crime to protect her.
But I doubt that will be necessary.
"Why do you want to visit your laboratory?" Iona asks.
"So I can hook him up to the Tesla coil and give him a good shock. Or perhaps the lightning simulator would be better. It provides thirty thousand volts of electricity, after all, and creates a blinding spectacle."
"Aye, that sounds perfect."
Hubert's face has gone pale, so I assume he doesn't agree with Iona's pronouncement. Still, the tosser pretends he's tough. "You don't scare me, Rafe Knight."
"I've been struck by lightning, you wanker. That event changed me, turning me into a raging beast whenever someone irritates me." I hoist Hubert off his feet and leave him dangling above the ground with only my hands fisted in his shirt to keep him from falling. "Would you like to know what a lightning bolt feels like when it hits your body? A flash of intense heat will rush through you so fast you barely have time to register it. You'll notice the aroma of singed hair. And if the bolt smacks down on a hard surface, you might experience cracked vertebrae."
The horror on Hubert's face assures me I'm getting somewhere now.
I set the man's feet on the ground and thrust one arm out toward Iona. "Please roll up my sleeve, pet. Hubert hasn't seen the visible effects of a lightning strike."
She quickly rolls up my sleeve, exposing the web-like scars.
Hubert's eyes bulge to the point that I expect them to pop out of their sockets at any second.
I pull the tosser close and snarl, "Ready for the lightning simulation chamber yet?"
Hubert bursts into tears. "Please, no, don't do that to me. I want to go back to Scotland and be arrested. Send me back to prison, please."
I pat his head. "Good boy, Hubie."
A mobile phone rings, behind me somewhere.
"It's yours, Mam," Maeve declares. "I was keeping it for you."
"Toss it to me, would you?" Iona says. "Thank you, gràidh . Hello? Thane? Oh, aye, we're all fine. We were planning to do that anyway, but we have a guest coming home with us. It's the cacan who stalked me. We'll do that. See you soon, Thane." Iona turns to me. "There's been a change of plans."
"We're flying to Scotland, I gather."
"That's right. We'll need to tie up this bod ceann to make sure he won't do anything naughty like trying to run away."
"Oh, no, I'll never do that again," Hubert blurts out. "I swear it. Never, never, never again."
I groan. One "never" would have been sufficient.
While I keep hold of my best mate Hubie, the others race into the house to gather our belongings. I hadn't even bothered to unpack my suitcase when we arrived at my home. Toby volunteered to pack for me, but that simply means he'll stuff all my belongings inside the bag, and I'll be wearing rumpled clothes for several days. I've never been any good at ironing.
Everyone bustles about, preparing for our imminent departure. But it only takes ten minutes, according to my watch, for the gang to get ready and climb into our vehicles. Eric finds a length of rope in the shed behind the house, and we use that to secure our prisoner. The bastard has the gall to complain about my use of the diminutive Hubie, but he changes his mind after I spear him with a hot glare. Yes, he's quite docile now.
Perhaps it's wrong for me to enjoy tormenting that git, but I don't care. He deserves it.
Half an hour later, we're in the air and flying toward Scotland on a posh private jet that comes with a chef. It's a different jet than the one we'd flown on the first time. The billionaire Diana Sangster provided the jet this time, strictly to speed up the process. Diana is British, after all, and she lives in England with her American husband. Traveling on her jet will mean a one-way trip instead of waiting for Lachlan's plane to come and pick us up.
The longer I'm in Hubie's presence, the more likely it is that I'll snap and punch him in the gut. Best get to Loch Fairbairn as quickly as possible.
No one feels like talking during the flight. Some listen to music, while others nibble on food. I do neither of those things for the simple reason that I have taken charge of Hubie. He sits right beside me, tied up with ropes and gagged with a handkerchief. Fortunately, it's a quick flight.
Thane and Ramsay are standing on the tarmac at the Inverness airport to greet us, and two vehicles wait for us, ready to whisk our group away to...wherever we're going. No one told me our final destination.
I trudge across the tarmac with one hand strapped around Hubie's upper arm and the other holding Iona's hand. We halt at the vehicles.
"What have you done to our sister?" Ramsay demands. "You were supposed to protect her."
"And I did. Here's your proof." I nod toward the bound and gagged Hubie. "Graham Oliver's little friend will tell us everything we want to know."
Thane bars his arms over his chest. "That's good news. But it's a bit late to worry about Graham."
"Why?"
"Because he's already enacted his evil plan. Come, get into the car. We'll be heading for Dùndubhan."
"Dun-what? I've never heard of that."
Iona nudges me with her elbow and whispers, "Don't you remember? The whisky you drank was Dùndubhan Masterpiece. It takes its name from the castle, which Rory MacTaggart owns."
"Oh, yes, of course." I forgot, thanks to my memory lapses. They're worse during stressful times. But the sweet woman reminded me. "Yes, all right, let's go to the castle."
Iona and I ride in the backseat with Ramsay and Thane. Our driver is an older chap who rolls up the partition without being told to do so. Discretion is a vital skill for any limo driver to acquire. We don't speak during the trip, though. Hubie huddles in the corner, pretending that he's looking out the window. Iona cuddles up to me. Her brothers don't squint or scowl at me, which seems like a significant improvement in our relationship.
Thane even smiles faintly.
Phillip came with us too. Courtney assured him he didn't need to come along, but he's clearly quite devoted to her. The bloke refused to stay home. The longer limo behind our vehicle accommodates all the rest of the gang---Maeve, Rowan, Toby, Phillip, Courtney, and Eric. I'm sure the younger gents and ladies are feeling as sober as we are given the circumstances.
The ride to Dùndubhan takes an hour and a half. Iona tells me the castle is rather remote and has a genuine medieval wall around it, though the structure has been refurbished occasionally over the centuries. There have been at least two recent battles there. Crikey . If we need to hide out at a remote castle known for being impregnable, our problems must be worse than I thought.
After about an hour, we turn off the highway and head toward a mountain peak I can see in the distance. That's Beann Dealgach, Iona tells me. Rory MacTaggart and his wife, Emery, own the mountain and the castle. Iona also informs me that the couple have taken their twin children to Germany to visit with Emery's parents and sister. They're American, despite living in the land of Wiener Schnitzel.
The closer we get to Dùndubhan, the more Iona relaxes. Thane seems to remain relaxed no matter what is going on around him. I wish I had his composure. Ramsay doesn't quite share Thane's calm demeanor, though he manages to sleep during our car journey.
Poor little Hubie gets no rest. Maybe that's because I'm sitting right beside him. Every time he glances at me, the git quivers from head to toe.
I'd never terrified anyone before today. But this twat deserves it.
Finally, we turn down a dirt road that Iona assures me will take us directly to Dùndubhan. The road has a strip of grass going up the middle, and I don't yet see anything resembling a building of any sort. Just as I'm about to ask if these people actually know where they're going, we come upon a metal gate that spans the road. The gate hangs open as if it's been waiting for us.
Once both our vehicles have crossed through the gate, it closes again on its own.
As we're transported down an ever-darkening road, I realize the track has become gravel now. Within a matter of minutes, the road ends at...the castle. I suppose I hadn't quite believed what Dùndubhan was like, the way Iona described it. I've been a bloody fool. Her description is spot on, though she didn't give me the full picture, having left out the turrets, the walkway atop the wall, the wooden gates, and other things I'm sure I haven't seen yet.
Dùndubhan is majestic.
Once both limos have parked, everyone climbs out of the vehicles. I keep hold of our prisoner with one hand clamped around his upper arm once again. Iona walks beside me. Her brothers take up positions behind and at either side of us as if they are our self-appointed guards. The rest of the gang emerges from the larger limo, seeming rather too cheerful under the circumstances. It's probably just my grumpiness rearing its head.
Will there be food? Soon? I'm hungry.
Iona laughs when I say those words aloud. "Of course we'll feed you, Rafe. Mrs. Brody is already here. She worked for Rory and Emery for several years, but now she mostly serves as housekeeper to some of the MacTaggarts, Buchanans, and Sterlings."
"With all of us here, won't Mrs. Brody be overwhelmed?"
"No, gràidh ," she says with a sweet little laugh. "She has help, believe me. Her daughter will be here, I'm sure, and so will her husband, Tavish. Besides, I rather doubt everyone I know will show up."
"Oh, I see. That's good to know."
Iona smiles up at me with a touch of sarcasm in her expression. "You are the sweetest angry bod ceann I've ever met."
"Thank you, pet. I'll accept any compliment from you, even a barmy one."
But I am not the only angry male on the premises. The door to the castle has opened, and Iona's brothers are now marching toward us. Or toward me, at any rate. I doubt their scowls are aimed at their sister.
Iona leads me toward them, as if she can't wait to find out whether Thane and Ramsay mean to lock me in the dungeon. Does this castle have one of those? I'll find out soon enough.
The brothers halt directly in front of us.
Ramsay straps his arms over his chest and squints at me, while Thane simply stands there with a seemingly casual posture that doesn't match his facial expression.
"Good day, gents," I say in my most cheerful tone. "We survived another flight on a borrowed private jet. At least you two didn't try to crash the plane simply to annoy me."
Ramsay grunts. "We wouldn't do that when our sister was on board, or her daughters."
"But you're fine with everyone else dying in a terrible accident."
Thane shrugs. "I'm sure there were enough life jackets for everyone except you."
Naturally, Eric Taylor would be on their list of passengers deserving of rescue. He is the son of Thane's fiancée, after all. The same goes for Courtney. And I'm positive Toby also gets a pass on fiery-crash death since Eric is his best mate. Not sure about Phillip Marlowe. I suppose that depends on how the Buchanan boys feel about a British man dating the daughter of Thane's fiancée.
Iona snaps her fingers in front of my eyes. "Wake up, Rafe."
"What? I am awake."
"But not cognizant. Aye? You were off in Rafe-land again."
"How did I acquire my own country? I don't recall buying Lithuania." But I did drift away to another state of consciousness. Iona knows I do that occasionally because of my lightning-strike injuries. But I have a question. I lean toward her and whisper, "Have you told them yet? About my issues?"
"No. Did you want me to tell them?"
"It's your decision."
A deliberate, loud throat-clearing causes us both to face her brothers again. Ramsay made that noise, to garner our attention, I presume.
But Thane is the one who speaks. He tips his head to the side to study me for a moment first, though. "We heard what you did to protect Iona. And we appreciate it."
"What did I do?"
"Beat up the bod ceann who harassed our sister and got information out of him."
"Oh, that, yes. It was an impulse, and I'm not terribly good at fighting my impulses."
Ramsay chuckles. "Is that right? I never would've guessed."
"May we go inside now?" Iona asks. "We need to tell you about our new friend Hubert Frye and hopefully get more information out of him concerning Graham Oliver."
In lieu of a response, Thane shoves two fingers into his mouth and blows a piercing whistle to get the crowd's attention. "Let's go inside, please, everyone."
With ten of us on the premises, it becomes rather difficult to enter the vestibule. But we settle on going through that space in pairs, heading into the downstairs hallway to gather there. The six younger people amongst us go first. Once we elders enter the hall, it's time to explain our plan.
I will go with Iona and her brothers into the office upstairs that apparently belongs to Rory MacTaggart. I haven't met that bloke yet. But we adults need a private place where we can interrogate Hubie. The younger generation doesn't want to be left out of the fun, but we convince them.
Except for Eric. He waits until the others have started for the sitting room, which lies in an annex of the castle. Then he shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and faces us. "I'd like to stay, if that's all right. This has nothing to do with my dumb-ass attempts to win over Iona. But I am kind of involved in the current situation, even if I'd rather not be."
I glance at Iona, and she nods. "All right, Eric, you are welcome to join us. You did assist in subduing Hubie, after all."
And it's time to interrogate him.