Page 81 of Surrender Your Grace
“Duncan must produce an heir before he turns thirty or forfeit a fortune—and his precious castle in the Highlands. His twenty-ninth birthday is next month.” She ticked her finger like the hands of a clock. “I refuse to be a means to an end,” she declared, blinking back tears, her voice wavering with emotion
“Oh, Maggie…” she breathed. “Does Andrew know?”
“I’m still too furious with him to ask.”
Cici studied her. “You’re in love with Duncan, aren’t you?”
Her head snapped up. “How can you tell?”
“I’ve only ever seen you cry twice. Once when your brother passed away, and now.”
She sniffled, wiping her eyes. “It’s doesn’t matter. I refuse to play the tragic heroine in some Elizabethan melodrama. I’d rather be a spinster than a pawn.”
“But if you walk away and he marries another woman, won’t that break your heart?”
Maggie’s face froze. As if that had never occurred to her. Then it crumpled.
Cici put an arm around her, attempting to comfort her, but she immediately shrugged it off. “No time for tears. I need to end this betrothal.”
“What’s your plan?”
Uncertain, her lips compressed into a line. “I was hoping you’d help me figure that out.”
“With Andrew and your mother pushing for the match, what can you do?”
“Make myself completely unmarriageable.”
“He’s already seen you drunk on brandy and smoking cigars. That didn’t scare him off.”
“Then I’ll have to be worse. Think spoiled, demanding, entitled—”
“Like Elizabeth.”
Maggie paused, looking sheepish. “That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t want to say it, though.”
Cici waved her off. “She’s a prime example of how to drive men away. Just promise me you won’t take it too far. No staged scandals. No duels. No medicine-laced lemonade.”
“Do you think she’s behind these attacks?”
“I don’t want to,” she said quietly, sick to her stomach at the thought. “But we can’t rule out Lady Winslow. Either could have hired the man with the cane.”
“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Cici.”
“I am, too, but mostly I’m tired,” she said quietly. “This can’t go on.”
“Agreed.” Maggie’s demeanor shifted, becoming focused as a plan formed. “With a bit of detective work, we should be able to uncover who’s behind this.”
“Do you propose we hire an inquiry agent?”
“No. I propose we do it ourselves,” she said, looking offended. “The ton loves to talk. They can’t help themselves. Someone has to have seen or heard something. All it takes is asking the right people the right questions.”
“I’d be on board if Andrew didn’t have half the Queen’s Guard watching me. I can’t even go down the street without three men surrounding me.”
“That’s not an issue for me, at least not with the nobility,” Maggie said, her mind already racing. “But others—shopgirls, drivers, street vendors—might be hesitant to speak to a lady.”
“True,” Cici conceded. “But they’ll talk to one of their own.” She sat straighter. “Mary knows the neighborhood, And she’s quick. She’ll know how to ask the right questions without seeming like she’s asking at all.”
Swiftly galvanized, Maggie exclaimed, “Let’s find the villain. For good this time, before I’m dragged off to Scotland.”
