Darth Vader’s ImperialMarch blasted from Danny’s phone, and he looked down in surprise atthe image of the iconic Rolling Stones emblem of a red tonguesticking out at him that served as his avatar for Claire’s incomingcalls. What the hell?
“What are you doing?” he asked by way ofanswer. “Calling me from your own GD phone?”
“Where are you?” she asked by way of ananswer.
Danny growled with some frustration and hungup the phone. There couldn’t be two people in the world that couldbe so freaking foolish as first Hugh and now Claire were being! Godhelp him if he ever became such a fool for some …
Darth Vader began marching again and Dannybit back a primal scream and snarled into the phone as he pressedit to his ear, “You know if they can track you on that damnedthing, they can track whom you’re talking to, too.”
“Would you just come and pick us up?” wasall she said.
Danny blinked at that, any thoughts of theNSA tracking her signal having fled his mind. “You mean itworked?”
“Of course it worked. Did you think itwouldn’t?”
“Of course not,” Danny lied blithely. “I wasso sure it would that I figured you could just take your owncar.”
Claire laughed, and he heard her repeat thewords to Hugh before his laughter joined hers. “Sorry, I forgot itwas here. Thanks, Danny. For everything.”
“Anything for you, Sis.”
“Really? In that case, can you book me twotickets to Edinburgh?” she asked merrily.
“Sure,” he said, just as flippantly. “Windowor aisle?”
“Oh, aisle, I guess,” she said. “I doubtHugh will be too anxious to see what’s coming. And make sure youget us in first class. I would hate to tarnish the entireexperience for him the first time ’round.”
Claire said something else to Hugh and theyboth laughed once more, and Danny rolled his eyes in disgust. Iflove could turn two of the most intelligent people he had everknown into raving lunatics, he would be content to restrict hisaffections to a lifetime love affair with his laptop.
Much can be excused ifit’s done for the right reasons, Dannythought with a wicked grin after they said good-bye. If he wasactually going to go to the trouble of booking their flight forthem, he was going to give them the longest red-eye availablebecause a little sibling revenge was always the best reason foreverything.
Epilogue
Breamar Highland Games
September 2013
The crowd cheered and Claire joined thementhusiastically as Hugh successfully heaved the fifty-six-poundweight into the air and over the bar currently set at fifteen feethigh, his ancient Urquhart plaid flapping about his muscularthighs. Directing a cocky salute and a wink to Claire, he turnedand strode back to the group of competitors waiting for their nextturn as the renowned heavy eventer, Hamish Robb, held out his handin congratulations. Hugh accepted the compliments and whistles fromthe crowd with a wave of his arm and a broad grin that only servedto amplify the delighted onlookers.
The Breamar Highland Games were the oldestand most prestigious of the many highland games held throughoutScotland, but surely they had never had such a genuine participantin the heavy events as Hugh. Some might have commented on theremarkable accuracy of Hugh’s kilt in the blue, green, and red ofthe Urquhart plaid, his leather shoes, and even his stockings, butnone would ever know how truly authentic a Highlander he was, orthat he had roamed Scotland long before the first of the modernHighland Games.
Obviously Hugh was in his element. He hadalready broken the games’ record in the twenty-two-pound Scotshammer, throwing over thirty-five meters, and was well on his wayto proving himself victorious in many of the other events as well.And it wasn’t merely the traditional events themselves that hadsuch satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. It was the pipes, thefiddle, the traditional dance, and the ancient castle that hostedit all that, in spite of the modern tents and food vendorsinterspersed among it all, reminded him of another time in a waythat the busy streets of Inverness had yet to achieve.
Scotland really was the most magical placeClaire had ever been, and it was easy to appreciate why Hugh hadlonged for it so. It was wild and untamed yet majestic and elegant.Just like him.
Over the past few weeks, they’d found timeto rediscover the more remote and unpopulated areas of Scotlandwhere only minimal change could be found. They had roamed ancientvillages that looked as out of time as Hugh was and walked hand inhand across endless moors where the rolling hills of verdant greenstood in vivid contrast to the turbulent grey clouds suspendedheavily above them. They had picnicked on the banks of turbulentrivers still swollen with the late thaw and on the barren beachesof the Cromarty Firth, wanting only the shadows of Rosebraugh overthem for Hugh to feel truly at home.
And she did as well, with Hugh at herside.
They were making a new home together. Bothof them putting the past where it belonged and looking forward.Claire had returned her focus to environmentally responsibleresearch and had taken a job at the small propulsion lab nearInverness. Hugh was taking small steps into investments but hadalso taken her offhanded suggestion to write about his time withVoltaire to heart. He’d had the idea to write it as a work offiction, taking his conversations with Voltaire, Hume, Frederickand others of that time into round table debate that could havenever taken place but for Hugh’s interactions between them. Histentatively entitled “Conversations Among Men” had already receivednotice from the Oxford Press.
“Well, well, well, Mrs. Manning.”
Claire stiffened at the regrettably familiarvoice and looked over at the man who had appeared at her side. Hisdark suit and tie were such a ludicrous contrast to the casualattire of the crowd and the kilted participants in the games, shemight have laughed aloud had it not been for the dread and nervesthat suddenly knotted her stomach. She hadn’t been so shaken forweeks, but Claire forced the anxiety away, silently assuringherself that there was no reason now to worry. She was safe in thethick crowds, safe with all the security that accompanied theQueen’s presence. “What? No kilt?”
“I’m not here to participate, Mrs. Manning,”Phil
