Page 35 of The Highland Heist
“Oh, I’m certain I’ll be fine.” She paused.
“You’re worried about Zahra?”
She moved her head against his shoulder as if to shake it. “Zahra’s lived on her own too many times for me to question her capability, though I do think she still needs our care for her as parents. I don’t think she knows what love is like.”
“And that,” Frederick murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, “makes you the best mother for her.”
She gave him a gentle hug in appreciation of his praise. “I’m only feeling sorry for Lillias, as she won’t have someone to help care for Thomas, though Zahra is willing, but she’s such a little girl still and Lillias isn’t too happy that Zahra is half-Egyptian.”
Frederick’s jaw tightened. Zahra was a little girl, for heaven’s sake, and no child deserved such censure—especially not from someone whose own life choices hadn’t exactly set her up as a model of virtue.
“If Lillias can’t accept Zahra’s help, she can hire someone else,” he said, exhaling his frustration. “How did your conversation with your sister go last night?”
Grace’s hesitation told him volumes. “It derailed before your grand entrance,” she admitted at last.
“And?”
She sighed, her palm stilling against his chest. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, though the pause stretched a beat too long for his comfort.
“She confirmed Miss Steen’s assessment of her marriage—and she’s blaming me for her unhappiness.”
“Blaming you?” Frederick frowned. “For what?”
Grace shifted enough to meet his gaze, her brow pinched in a way that made him want to throttle whoever put that shadow there—Lillias, in this case. “She said that if I hadn’t confronted her about the baby, no one would have been the wiser, and the two of you would have been happily married parents by now.”
Heat began a dangerous climb through his stomach into his neck. Lillias’ complaint touched a nerve, stirring the buried ache of his own family’s deceptions. His elder brother had been the result of a similar situation, a truth Frederick had only uncovered months ago with Grace’s help. That lie had unraveled into a lifetime of Frederick being the family’s black sheep—and worse, it had led to the tragic series of events culminating in his father and brother’s deaths.
“Lillias made her choices,” he said firmly, cradling Grace’s chin. “She must live with the consequences. None of this is your fault.”
Her brow puckered further. “But I’ve already broken so many rules about being a countess, my father’s promised money is gone, and now you’re related to a potential murderer.”
Frederick bit back a grin at her tendency toward derailing into impending cataclysms. “Your sister did not murder her husband,” he said, tapping her chin gently. “We’ll figure out the matter of the lost money. And for the record, you are the perfect countess for me.”
Grace didn’t look convinced. “I hope you still feel that way when Lillias is charged with murder and Havensbrooke has to sell off land to keep the schoolchildren from starving.”
“Grace!” He laughed despite himself. “I cannot predict whether your sister will be charged with murder, but we both know she’s not the mastermind behind Tony’s death. And the children of Astlynn Commons will not starve because of any financial setback. As you’ve reminded me, Havensbrooke has untapped resources. We just need to be inventive—something you excel at.”
His reassurance did nothing to temper her frown. She needed a distraction and he had an idea of how to provide one. “I imagine we’ll hear from Mr. Barclay this morning, and we can make arrangements to see him to get a better understanding about this inheritance of yours.”
She popped up from her place at his side and stared down at him, all of her red hair falling around her pale shoulders. “That’s right. And who is to know what all it will entail. Perhaps there will be some financial piece to it.” Her smile grew and then she scooted away from him to the end of the bed. “We must speak with Lillias as soon as she is awake, Frederick.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, a grin tugging at his lips. “Given what I know about your sister, I doubt she’s awake yet, darling.”
Grace froze mid-motion, narrowing her eyes at him as if calculating his logic. Then, with a sharp nod, she resumed dressing. “Very well. We’ll check on Zahra and Miss Cox first, which should give Lillias time to rise. But we cannot delay. If we’re to secure the inheritance, we’ll need to travel to Scotland together—and we need to move quickly to clear my sister of suspicion.”
A knock on the door pulled Frederick up from the bed and into more presentable attire. Grace stepped forward and opened the door enough for him to make out the look of an unfamiliar face.
“My lady?” The woman stuttered, looking confused and clearly in a bit of a fankle. Had her name been Mrs. James? The housekeeper they’d seen briefly yesterday? “I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but you and the earl have had mail arrive this morning.”
Grace took the envelope and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. James, isn’t it?”
The housekeeper straightened, her cheeks coloring faintly. Frederick joined Grace at the door, buttoning his cuffs.
“Yes, my lady. Yesterday was my half day, so I wasn’t here or …” She hesitated, visibly paling. “The horrible events.”
“We’re sorry our arrival has added to your distress.”
The woman’s entire body relaxed at Frederick’s statement. “It’s a shock, sir … my lord. A murder, and in this very house!” Her large blue eyes widened, her pale face stark against the dark bun pinned neatly at the nape of her neck. The striking contrast reminded Frederick of Snow White, a thought so absurd he nearly groaned. That was definitely something Grace would have thought.
