by Lexie Ray
“You own a castle?” Andrea snapped.
“One of his estates,” Dwayne said. “He said one of his estates. How many castles do you own? What do you do with them? Why would you need more than one castle?”
“The Mermaid was my childhood home,” Mads said with little interest.
“So, there’s a possibility baby pictures will be up!” Dwayne said with delight. “Babe, we gotta go. Even if this baroness is right and she’s in no danger, we gotta go.”
He turned to see that Andrea already had her phone out. “Babe, shush. I’m changing our tickets.”
Dwayne stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging open with pure awe. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Mads, do you need a ticket?”
The count nodded once before his phone call finally picked up and he began to speak in Gaelic to the person on the other end, the rest of the room forgotten.
Jai could barely believe how quickly the day had changed. The letter, still clutched in his hand, felt as heavy as lead and sharp around the edges. Could Natalie really be in danger? In all their letters, she had never once mentioned anything like it. His flight was leaving in only a few hours, and it felt like an eternity.
When Mads hung up the phone, he turned to head toward the door and was quickly cut off by Daren. It was strange how much overlap of character existed between the two very different men. Both chose their words carefully, and both were reluctant to reveal themselves. But perhaps more importantly right now, both were fiercely loyal. They didn’t need a word to pass between them for an understanding to be reached.
“I would like you to stay, if you would do me that favor,” Mads said.
Daren shrugged one shoulder. “I can come. If you need me.”
“And leave me to face Rebecca’s fury? No.” Mads gave a slight smile. “Besides, the resources at The Mermaid are quite limited. You can be of more aid to me here.”
Daren nodded once. “Anything you need.”
“There is one thing. Do you think Sophie will be willing to tend to Brahms?”
Daren’s brow furrowed. “Willow’s dog?”
“Yes. She’ll be coming with us.”
“When exactly was that decided?” Jamie asked.
Mads looked between them all before he moved swiftly to the door. “It’s about to be.”
Chapter Two
Willow Miller had long since lost the fight to make the flower arrangement she was working out look presentable. The mix up in her shipment meant that she was stuck with a bunch of flowers that she didn’t normally get. Her flower shop was too small to just absorb the cost. She had to get rid of them, but putting them together was messing with her routine, and she couldn’t get anything to look right. Scrunching up her mouth, she pulled all of the flowers out once more and dumped them against the countertop.
It was a relief to hear the bell above the door jingle. Brahms, her Brussels Griffon pup, was instantly on his feet. His nails clattered against the floor as he hurried around the counter to meet their guest. She didn’t bother reassuring their visitor that Brahms wasn’t a threat. Not many people would be worried about a tiny bundle of matted fur.
“Sedeti.”
“Mads,” Willow sighed. “Stop teaching my dog commands in Lithuanian.”
Mads didn’t respond straight away. It was enough to have a slip of worry sink into her stomach. She glanced up and found that he was still on the threshold. He stood frozen with one hand on the door and his attention fixed on Brahms as the dog excitedly twisted around his legs.
“Oh, this can’t be good,” Willow said as she rounded the counter. “Who got hurt?”
“No one,” he said softly.
Clearing his throat, he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. The lingering silence didn’t help. Mads moved with a calm, confident ease. He controlled each room he entered. But now, all he did was watch her, his eyes almost pleading.
“What’s wrong?”
“May I speak with you?”
The vulnerable hint in his voice made something twist in the pit of Willow’s gut.
“Of course. Mads, you’re starting to worry me.”
“I apologize,” he said reflexively. He heaved a breath before taking a step forward. “Ms. Miller, my I ask you to keep this conversation private?”
“Ms. Miller?” That was a bad sign. Mads only addressed her like that when he was really rattled. Did this have something to do with his mother?
For months, Willow had been receiving photographs in the mail, each one of the same woman. She had assumed that the pictures were from her ex-boyfriend, for lack of a better word, since he was a dangerous sociopath who had turned mental manipulation into an art form, Willow hadn’t been willing to ask him about it. Not just because it would have required a prison visit. More because her ex was like a demon. Nothing good could come from engaging him. Willow hadn’t thought for a second that the woman in the photograph was Mads’ mother.
She still didn’t know much about it. Any time the topic came up, Mads would completely shut down. What Willow understood was that his mother had gone missing when he was a child. She had never been seen again. When Mads had found out that the photographs Willow was receiving were of his mother, he had completely lost it.
Willow had never seen him act like that, wild and violent, and had assured him that she would confront her ex for answers. Mads had made her promise not to go without him. Weeks had passed, and he kept coming up with reasons to put the visit off. She was sure that he was afraid to find out something. She just didn’t know what.
“What is going on?”
“Your word,” he insisted, his voice taking on a higher pitch. “I need your word that you won’t tell them.”
“Yes, of course. Now talk to me.”
Brahms leaped at Mads’ legs as he closed the door. For a moment, he stood with his hand against the door, his eyes fixed on a spot of the far wall. Abruptly, he took two long strides into the room. His heels clicked together as he turned sharply, with military precision.
“My cousin is in danger.”
“Mads.” It occurred to Willow that she knew next to nothing about his family.
“She maintains that she’s fine, but I have my reservations. Natalie has a way of dismissing…well, almost everyone. I need to go to her aid, but I find myself in need of your assistance.”
“Name it.”
Mads’ chest visibly expanded with a deep breath. “I need you to accompany me to Scotland.”
She blinked at him. “Come again?”
“Daren has agreed to watch Brahms, if that it eases your hesitation.”
“I’m not hesitating. I’m just confused.”
Mads nodded once and placed his hands behind his back. “Natalie resides at one of my properties on the Scottish coast.”
“I figured that much,” she said. “Why do you need me to come? Aren’t the boys–”
“They have all offered their services, but I find myself in need of a different set of skills,” Mads began. “You see, Natalie is a world leader in the medical field. In all honesty, she is a genius, and the conference she is hosting is set to be the event of the year. This makes it an unavoidable certainty that my father’s brother will be present.” He flinched as the doorbell chimed behind him.
Willow was quick to slip around him and stopped the person from entering.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed.”
“It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Unexpected emergency,” Willow said. “I’m so sorry. Please call again later.”
She shut the door with another swift apology and turned back around. Mads wasn’t the easiest person to get to know, and she had never seen him this open or skittish. She was worried that the interruption would have brought his fortified defenses back up with a vengeance.
“I fear I am costing you quite a bit of business. I will pay for the inconveniences.”
“No need. What’s the problem with your uncle?”
He shifted his eyes to the far corner of the room, obviously taking pains not to look at her. It took a few deep breaths for him to work up the nerve to answer.
“When my family line was awarded the title of count, the stipulations were made quite clear. The title would pass solely to the firstborn male of each generation and only pass to the next sibling when no heir was apparent.” Impossibly, his spine straightened even more. “When my parents were abducted, my father’s brother was delighted to obtain the title. Then he remembered the pesky detail of my existence. Suddenly, rumors began to circulate that I was illegitimate and, having not been adopted by my father, was not a Latvis and therefore had no claim to anything belonging to the family.”
“And you think that your uncle started these rumors?”
Mads scowled. “I know he did. But social propriety made it impossible for him to completely abandon me until the DNA results were in. So, using his position as my legal guardian, my father’s brother–”
“The English word is uncle.” Willow had only recently discovered that Mads’ solid grasp of the English language slipped when he was under stress.
“I know the word,” he snarled. “I refuse to give him the privilege. Having to acknowledge his connection to my father already taxes my tolerance.”
“Sorry.”
Mads closed his eyes, the fingers of his right hand twitching as they tightened around his left wrist.
“In an attempt to make me reliant upon him, he sent me to Scotland alone, completely isolating me from everything and everyone I had ever known.” Finally, he met Willow’s gaze. “Now that I have my position and rank and am in full control of the finances, he continues to try and dismiss his previous treatment of me and the damage it inflicted. I cannot stand to be around him. You would be a grand distraction. He worries when I associate with women.”
“Why?”
“If he’s still living when I die, the title will pass to him. If I have a son, he will once again be forced further from the position.”
“You want me to pretend that we’re dating?” Willow asked.
The corner of his lips twitched up as he returned his gaze to the far corner of the room.
“I would prefer if you don’t confirm nor deny anything.” He tried to look at her but couldn’t keep his eyes on her for more than a second. “Will you come?”
Willow tried to make her smile as reassuring as possible. “Of course.”
Chapter Three
A storm front had moved in to ravage the towering cliffs and turn the ocean into heaving froth. The wind slammed against the side of the helicopter, rocking it like a leaf while the pilot struggled to right it. In such conditions, the solitary dirt road that led to The Mermaid would have been a much safer option for travel. It would also have been far slower, as the earth struggled to swallow the pummeling rain and reduced the path to sludge.
Each of the men aboard the helicopter had seen active service, and the ride, while unnerving, wasn’t enough to worry them. Andrea and Willow, however, couldn’t keep themselves from tightening their grips on their chairs with every jolt.
Dwayne and Jai were quick to offer reassurance. Even though they chose almost exactly opposite ways of doing it, they were both effective in easing the women’s worry. With nothing left to occupy his time, Mads let the mist-covered horizon consume his focus.
The flight to Scotland had been intolerable. Every inch of his skin had buzzed with restless energy. It was moments like that, when all he could do was sit and wait, that it became impossible to ignore the extent of his helplessness and his mind began to conjure up a million horrors. And, given his occupation, personal experience, and imagination, each thought was gut-wrenchingly detailed.
Finally, just when he was sure he was a second away from madness, The Mermaid emerged from the mist before them. Perched on the very edge of the cliff, the castle was an extensive property. Made of pale stones and black, sloped roofs, its walls towered over the reaches of even the highest waves.
Originally built to withstand attack, the entire structure was surrounded by a fortified wall. The only point of entry, other than the secret passages for royalty to escape, was the massive drawbridge door. The place wasn’t built for warmth or comfort. It was cold and dark, more a prison than a home, and Mads’ heart sank and twisted at the sight.
“Cozy,” Dwayne yelled over the noise of the descending helicopter.
The helicopter was still a few feet off the lush green ground when Mads leaped out. The driving rain ravaged his skin and pressed down on his long jacket like a sheet of ice. While the water managed to slip through his dark blond hair and poured down his neck, the fine leather jacket kept the rest of him dry.
The sodden ground clung to his feet with each step. It had done the exact same thing the first time he had ever approached the castle. Then, it had felt like the earth was trying to suck him in, as if it knew he should have died with his parents and was trying to correct the error by sending him to a sodden grave of his own
Mads pushed the sensation aside as the drawbridge started to open with a loud clatter of ancient metal chains. The servants flooded out of the gates to create twin lines for his inspection. Even the weather didn’t dismiss the servants from greeting the master of the house. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he crossed the threshold, his long stride outpacing the butler that attempted to shelter him with an umbrella.
There was a small courtyard between the battlement wall and the castle itself. It was reduced to a field of mud that only furthered the distance between him and the butler, and Mads didn’t have the time or will to slow down. It took two people to open the heavy, intricately carved doors of the main building. His leather boots trailed mud up the stone stairs and into the open foyer of the castle.
“Tell the baroness I have arrived.” Mads dismissed one of the doormen.
He didn’t wait in the foyer but instead headed to the reception area off to the right. Little had been done to the inside of The Mermaid since its first construction. Most of the furnishings and decorations were possessions once used by the original owners. The walls towered overhead, the exposed beams creating patterns over the stone ceiling. Drapes of black and gold flowed down the walls, the colors matched by the antique furniture and decorations.
Dozens of fiery torches lined the walls, resting delicately in iron cradles, the bases forged out of polished gold to look like the horns of great beasts. Most of the light, however, came from the fire that blazed within the massive fireplace on the far side of the room. Lined with marble and plated with onyx, it was large enough that it could have fit every member of his party with room to spare. And high enough that Dwayne could have walked into it without having to duck.
“Okay, where’s Dracula?” Dwayne chuckled as he came in, neck craning to study the ceiling. Andrea swiftly elbowed him in the ribs. “What? This place is kind of creepy. Can’t we turn on a light?”
“Only Natalie’s laboratory is fitted with electricity.”
Even though Mads had only said it like a passing comment, it was enough to grab everyone’s attention.
“Say again,” Jamie said.
Mads stripped off his outer coat and tossed it to the butler that stood ready by the door. The garment sprayed a thick trail of water in its path.
“Great lengths have been taken to preserve The Mermaid as it was originally intended. While some allowances have been made, only the laboratory has electricity, and that runs off a generator.”
“So, how do you get Internet?” Dwayne asked.
“There are routers.”
“Good.”
“In the laboratory.”
Dwayne’s smile fell. “What about TV?”
Andrea placed a hand against his chest to silence him and asked, “What about running water?”
“Oh, good question,” Dwayne said. “That one first.”
“Indoor plumbing was one of the concessions,” Mads said. “But the system is rat
her old, and prone to freezing in the winter.”
“It could help to run hot water through the idle pipes,” Jamie offered.
Willow had taken to exploring the room, and Mads’ attention followed her as he answered, “There is no hot water.”
“Excuse me?” Andrea said with an edge of panic.
“There is no hot water. If you wish to bathe, tell a maid and they will prepare a bath.”
“There are so many things in that sentence that are just weird,” Dwayne chuckled.
Mads didn’t respond. Willow had made her way to the grand fireplace and was trying to warm herself while studying the pictures of the smooth curves of black pearls and onyx made against the marble. The light from the fireplace played off her skin with a honeyed glow and threw her shadow to impossible lengths.
It was so strange to see her here, surrounded by all the ghosts of his past. The scene was surreal, and Mads found himself watching her closely. This might have been his childhood home, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted her approval or her disgust.
“I suppose this is proof that the postal system is far more capable than I was led to believe.”
Mads turned to face his cousin as Dwayne sputtered into a happy giggle. Natalie was extremely specific in her preferences. Her wardrobe was no exception. Since childhood, she had developed a taste for the history of her homeland. Every article of clothing she owned was a replica of Imperial Russian design, and she wore each piece with all the confidence of a queen.
While her dress was like spun gold, her bodice and its long train were made of raven black satin that looked as dark and smooth as her hair. The two were so closely matched that, in the firelight, one easily melted into the other. Her hair was the only thing she had that expressed any gentleness. Her features were regal, her eyes sharp with intelligence, and the soft smile on her crimson red lips conveyed more secrets than promises of warmth. Natalie was a formidable woman and was not shy about showing it.
“Dearest cousin,” she said as she smoothly raised her hand, “I trust your journey was as comfortable as could be expected.”