“Aye.”
She waited expectantly. When Grant looked at the fire, she suspected he didn’t want to give away the identity of the man. “Who?” she asked softly.
“We believe it was Darby.” Grant’s unfathomable gaze swung back to her, and she felt as though he was watching her reaction, ready to defend the man’s honor.
“Your faithful valet,” she said, seeing the man in a new light—but only in a good way.
“Aye. I think he only applied for the position eons ago to be my bodyguard, just in case.”
She sighed. “I think he was afraid I was going to have him fired. He didn’t like that I was in your chamber,” Colleen said, recalling her confrontation with him—mainly because she had only been wearing a towel, and she thought his brusqueness had been an effort to hide his embarrassment.
Grant chuckled. “Aye. I think that’s the most worried I’ve seen him in a long time. He said he’d ask Ian if he’d take him into his pack, but truth is, Darby and Ian’s ghostly cousin, Flynn, don’t see eye to eye.”
“Flynn’s a ghost.”
“Aye.”
She shook her head. She did not believe in ghosts. “What about Archibald? You said he is like his father and grandfather. How?”
“He wanted to manage the property just like they did. At first, we believed he was trying to work a deal with your father when he visited. Maybe help to get rid of Neda, which was one of the reasons we guarded her at all times. If she had died, Theodore would have owned the castle, and since he had no knowledge of how to run the estates, he might have installed Archibald as the manager.
“Not that he would have known how to take care of the estates. And my pack would have given him a difficult time of it. Maybe Archibald was blackmailing your father. Maybe he knew just what Theodore and his father had done with regard to my father’s death. The two of them were drinking buddies. Not that Archibald drinks overly much, but he was always picking your father up and taking him to pubs.”
She nodded. “So they weren’t just fishing buddies. When my father took over, why didn’t he install Archibald?”
“Theodore was deep in his cups more often than not. Some of that was Archibald’s fault because he took your father to the same pub where you were to plot.”
No wonder Grant had been upset to hear she had been there with Archibald. If only she’d known.
“A couple of my men followed them and listened in on their conversations. Archibald told Theodore what he’d do and Theodore agreed, all while drinking. But thankfully it was all talk and nothing more. Then he returned to Maryland. We thought that was the end of your father’s interference here.”
She smiled a little ruefully. “Until I showed up. My father’s daughter. A week after he returned home, my father drove himself off a bridge and drowned,” Colleen said. She sighed deeply, remembering the call from the police and wondering why it hadn’t happened earlier the way he drank and drove.
“He’d been caught driving over the limit on several occasions, and his license had been revoked. He shouldn’t have been driving, but that didn’t make any difference to him.” She shook her head. “If he drowned your father, it seems fitting justice that he died that way, too. I was just glad he hadn’t taken anyone else’s life with him.”
“I’m sorry, Colleen. This has to be hard to learn all at once.”
Yeah, it was. Not because she had cared about her father, but because she cared about Grant’s. “My father had never been a loving dad. The more I learn about him, the less I realize I knew him. I believe the only thing he really loved was his bottle.” She finished her tea and set the cup aside.
“I have to agree with you there,” Grant said stonily.
“Have you ever questioned Archibald about your parents’ deaths?” Not that she thought the man would give up the secrets, but Grant might have noticed a change of scent or posture or mannerisms, something that would indicate Archibald knew something.
“Aye, I have. If he knows what truly happened, he won’t tell me.”
Thinking out loud, she said, “So Archibald thinks to gain the properties through me, then.”
“I suspect he was keeping an eye on your father, and when he learned Theodore had died and you inherited, he was waiting for you to follow in your father’s footsteps. Then he conveniently met you at the airport.”
She stiffened a little, her gaze holding his. He might as well know the truth. “I assumed he was you at first, and that he had come to pick me up and take me to the castle.” She smiled a little. That might teach Grant to allow his enemy to come for her instead. “But then I texted Julia and said I’d arrived, and she told me what you had planned for me. She sent a picture of you and Ian, so I’d know who to look for when I arrived at the castle.”
“Bloody hell, lass,” Grant said with regret. He reached for her hand and squeezed it with a much too tender touch, when she was trying to keep a more businesslike posture, especially because of the way she was dressed. “I’m sorry for not being the one to pick you up. To show you Scottish hospitality like I should have from the very beginning.” Then he frowned. “You couldn’t have thought he was me.”
She chuckled. “Or one of your men. When I said such, his face fell, but I still assumed his meeting me there was just by chance. Does he have a pack?”
She realized she’d never really talked to anyone about her father like she had with Grant. Her cousins had been terrified of him; her mother covered for him.
“Nay. Five men stick with Archibald. He and his father and grandfather never had a following. So if he mated with you and took over the properties, he’d be the owner and tell me what to do.”
She shook her head, not even considering the possibility. “And make life miserable for you.”
“Aye.”
“But you and your pack could leave,” she said, just speaking in general. Not that they would have to.
“And go where, lass? This is our home. This is what we know how to do well.”
Grant looked as though they would fight and die before they’d leave their home. Colleen thought about that as she stared into the golden flames and realized this really was their home. Not just a place they managed. But theirs. And had always been.