The Raven stood in the darkened closet waiting for Niall’s guests to leave. He’d caught a glimpse of the man as he’d entered the room. Once the loud talking had begun, The Raven had cracked the door to take a peek. After the man and woman had left, he stepped out of the pantry. “I know that man,” The Raven said as he entered Niall’s study.
Niall started and released a string of curses. “Why the hell are you here?”
“To keep track of you and ensure you remember what you’re looking for and why,” The Raven said. He had arrived that morning on the train and had been given instructions on how to get to Niall’s estate. At the time, Niall hadn’t been here, so he’d helped himself and taken a look around. It was perfect, with all the comforts of home. Niall knew how to live.
“I would never forget,” Niall said.
“Of course not. How could you?” The Raven so enjoyed toying with Niall. It wasn’t that he relished hurting people, but he wasn’t above doing so if it got him what he wanted. He lit his cigar.
The Raven was almost certain the large Scotsman who had just left was a member of Solomon’s. In fact, he believed he was one of the men that had been with Fielding that day at the Tower of London. He’d helped to ruin The Raven’s plan for Pandora’s box.
Now The Raven was after the Kingmaker, a much more powerful antiquity, and he only needed two more stones to complete it. The Loch Ness treasure, however, had proven particularly difficult to locate. He’d looked on his own for months, but had had no luck. That’s when he’d stumbled upon Niall. The Raven knew he could find the bloody thing eventually, but it would be a far faster search with Niall’s assistance.
“That man,” he said, “he is a member of Solomon’s as well?”
Niall inclined his head. “He is.” He fell into his seat.
“And a relation of yours?”
“My cousin.” Niall picked up a torn piece of paper and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
“How charming.” The Raven inhaled his cigar, then allowed the ashes to fall onto the carpet beneath him. Niall’s cousin might prove a problem. But The Raven was used to cleaning up such problems. Given the right opportunity, he could rid himself of that man.
The study door opened again, but this time a young man entered. He was truly no more than a boy, perhaps sixteen. Obviously one of the local boys, he wore the traditional kilt and tartan, and his hair looked shaggy and tangled. He had several dirt smudges on his cheeks.
“Niall,” the boy said with obvious excitement. “I heard you were in town.” His brogue was thick. He smiled broadly.
The Raven tried not to roll his eyes or show his exasperation. They had work to do, details to discuss, and all of these interruptions were seriously trying his patience.
“Dougal,” Niall said as he came to his feet. He came around his desk and went to the boy. “It’s lovely of you to visit, but as you can see,” he motioned to The Raven, “I already have a guest. Perhaps another time.”
The boy’s smile wilted; he was clearly hurt. He was too young and self-involved to notice the tension eating at Niall, the nervousness that shortened his sentences and made his hands shake subtly.
“Graeme was here, I know. I heard him yell at you.”
Niall smiled reassuringly, all the while trying to usher young Dougal out of the room. “Nothing to worry about. He was frustrated,” Niall said. “Your brother is merely loud. We were discussing politics from London. Nothing to fret about.”
But the boy seemed unsure.
So this was Graeme’s younger brother. Very interesting. And evidently very interested in his English cousin. The Raven stepped forward and held his hand out.
“Leave the boy be, Niall. I should like to meet a relation of yours since I missed the previous one,” The Raven said with a smile.
Niall’s eyes narrowed, but he held back any argument that he might have had. The Raven had him precisely where he wanted him.
“My name is David,” he told the boy.
Dougal smiled and came forward, clasping his hand in a hearty clasp. “Dougal, sir. Are you from London as well?”
“Indeed I am.” The Raven pulled his hand back and fought the urge to wipe it on his trousers. The boy’s nails were caked with dirt, and The Raven had to redirect his attention to avoid staring. “I came up to see Niall. We’re good friends.”
“He’s my cousin,” Dougal said cheerfully. “My father was from London.”
“Perhaps you can come visit me in London,” Niall said. “But we really must get back to discussing our business.” He put his hand on Dougal’s back and led him to the door.
“So that must make you half English,” The Raven said, knowing full well the more he allowed this brat to stay, the longer Niall was away from the caves and his quest. But The Raven couldn’t resist playing for just a little while.
“Yes, I am,” Dougal said enthusiastically. “But I was raised here in Scotland. My brother lives in London most of the time, though.”
