She swallowed her bite of food. “Your friends Esme and Fielding. I intercepted a telegram and invited them to come here.”
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
“I was already picking up a telegram of my own and I happened to be at that office. It seemed logical that I would respond on your behalf. Besides, we might need their help. You said yourself that Fielding has personal ties to this Raven fellow.” She shrugged daintily. “It seemed logical he might provide insight into dealing with him. Do you not agree? I was under the impression that the men of Solomon’s stick together.”
“I hadn’t given it much thought.” Graeme took a seat at the table. “I sent a message to alert him of The Raven’s presence out of courtesy, as I knew he’d been looking for the man. The Raven is a relation of Fielding’s.”
“Well, then, I suspect they would have come up here had I invited them or not. But as your wife, I’ve decided it is time for me to play the hostess to some degree.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Although I did not invite them to stay at your mother’s house.”
“How kind of you.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “I thought so. It seems I’m better at the minutiae of domesticity than I anticipated.”
Graeme chuckled, but said nothing further.
“I suppose we should have them here for a meal,” she said, her brow furrowing with thought.
He held up a hand. “No more parties. It’s dangerous. Too dangerous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous.” He spoke slowly, struggling to control his frustration. “I’m being logical. Have you forgotten that the last time we had a party, you got shot?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten, but honestly, Graeme, it was barely a grazing,” she said. “They will be guests—”
“Vanessa—” he growled in warning.
“Very well.” She inclined her head, playing the part of the acquiescent wife, despite the conniving gleam in her eyes. “But remember, you can’t protect me from everything.”
There had to be thousands of eligible, biddable Scottish lasses in the region, and he’d ended up accidentally handfasted to the most stubborn English chit he’d ever met.
* * *
The Raven walked in silence. The fresh covering of snow blanketed the landscape in front of him. The winter precipitation still fell from the sky soundlessly, cold and wet as it landed on his hands and cheeks.
His boots crunched into the snow as he climbed the hill to the castle ruins. Below him, the loch shimmered against the snow. The sun already fought to be free of the cloud cover; he suspected the snow would be melted by noon.
He entered the remains of the castle, stepping over what had once been the stone wall that encircled the fortress. The caverns were below, in the hillside, where Niall swore they would find the treasure of Loch Ness.
Voices came from inside the castle. He stopped and moved to hide behind a staircase that now led to nothing. The ceiling above had long since crumbled, and the open sky sat heavy above him. The voices came closer. Two men, if he had to guess. Niall and Graeme?
Damnation if Graeme hadn’t continued to be a thorn in his side. If provided the opportunity, The Raven would simply kill the man. Yes, he risked bringing the full wrath of Solomon’s down on himself, but it wasn’t as if they weren’t all hunting him anyway.
But today was not the day for Graeme to die. The two men who emerged from the castle were neither Niall nor Graeme, but instead two men he knew from London. One man, Braden, he knew particularly well. Until The Raven had been forced underground a year ago, they had been competitors, both treasure hunters for hire. Since The Raven’s forced retirement, Braden had acquired most of The Raven’s previous clients.
The Raven had taken revenge on the man, though. Not two months earlier, he’d broken into Braden’s house and stolen King David’s stone, a relic the man had found himself and opted not to sell. It was one of the three stones necessary to complete the Kingmaker.
No doubt Braden had traveled here thinking that he would find the final stone and barter with The Raven. He was a fool to think The Raven would ever make such a deal.
“Find it, then get yourself back here,” Braden was saying to his companion. When the man didn’t move, Braden released a heavy sigh. “We will discuss the other matter later. Go.” And with that Braden disappeared back into the castle.
The other man, whom The Raven did not know by name, but knew to be a close associate of Braden’s, stood for a moment before turning to leave. The Raven allowed him to exit the castle before he followed him.
Braden’s associate was larger than The Raven in both height and breadth. But when it came to being cunning, no one matched him. They were nearly to the bottom of the hill, almost to the edge of the rocky beach, before the man noticed he was being followed.
The Raven stopped walking as the man turned around. “You there,” he said, his voice low and full of gravel.
“What are you about?”