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We traveled for more than an hour until we came upon another group of islands, and I felt the helicopter slowly drop in elevation.
"There it is," Keir said, pointing to an island off his left. It was large, and there was a rise on the south side where sheer cliffs plunged into the ocean. The north side was comprised of sandy beaches, hidden coves, and two different docks. A stream cut through the middle like a vicious scar, and in the center sat a castle. It was close to there that the helicopters landed.
"Welcome to Dorcha," Keir said, helping me out. "My island."
"Your island?" I said, in awe at the sheer beauty of it.
"Aye, my island."
Three black Land Rovers were waiting for us, and we got in the first one. "What does Dorcha mean?" I asked.
"Dark," he said. "It's a rare day the sun shines here."
Dark island. He was right. Black and gray clouds shaded the land in dramatic shadows, giving the island an almost monochromatic feel. "It seems aptly named. Is this your ancestral home?"
"Hardly," he sneered as his eyes turned to Onyx. "My mother was a heroin addict. And my father is what you Americans call a deadbeat."
"Oh," I said, a bit surprised. I had assumed he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He spoke with a perfect upper-crust English accent except for the occasional use of the Scottish terms aye or lass. I studied linguistics in college before I had to drop out. I had an ear for languages.
"Does that shock you?" he asked.
"No." I felt the blood rise in my cheeks and was embarrassed that he could read my face so easily. "It's, um, it's just that your English is so perfect."
"I would hope so. I studied at Cambridge, and I worked hard to leave any traces of Glasgow and my past behind." We pulled up in front of the castle. Keir stopped me before getting out. "Do not fuck this up for me, or there will be consequences."
"What if someone asks me questions. I know nothing about you."
"Easy enough. We met through our mutual friend Claire and will marry in four months. Anything else, just smile. This group cares about one thing and one thing only. Money. They won't bother getting too personal with you."
Impressive stone steps led up to the entrance of the Gothic mansion. Gargoyles and intricately carved green-men sat perched atop the pointed arches and flying buttresses. It was eerie and a feeling of gloom surrounded it. Keir took my hand as we climbed them. At the top, his staff was lined up by the massive wooden door. A gentleman in a black three-piece suit and bow tie approached us. "Mr. Wilson."
“Niles this is my fiancée Evie Young.”
Any shock on his face was quickly replaced with a thin smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Young."
"Niles is my butler. He will help you if you need anything during our stay."
"Thank you, Niles," I said politely.
"Would you like me to put Miss Young in the blue room? I can have her clothes transferred there."
"Miss Young will be in my room. Please have the clothes from the blue room and any of our current luggage transferred there."
"Yes, sir."
Keir tucked my arm into him, whispering in my ear. "And so, it begins."
A tiny ball of panic rose up inside me, and I felt like a damsel in distress who had been captured by the evil dragon. Only this dragon was in the form of a very handsome man with a dark heart and an even blacker soul, and he was about to devour me with his threats and contracts.
ChapterSix
KEIR
Dorcha Hall was positioned on the rise with a panoramic view of the ocean. The original part of the castle dated back to the seventeenth century. I spent the past two years renovating it and adding to its impressive grandeur. The end game was now, and these guests would eat up the opulence.
Bilderberg was mine.
The whole mansion was arranged over three floors. I dropped Evie's hand as we entered the Great Hall. She walked over to the massive stone-arched fireplace, taking in the full-height stained glass windows and ornately carved mahogany ceiling panels.
