Page 45 of The Highland Heist
His smile spread slowly from one corner to the next, lighting his pale eyes, and Grace had the immediate urge to hug him. “I don’t know as I’d make that claim, my lady.”
“Truly?” Grace’s laugh was light, though she stole a glance at the door. Mrs. James should have closed it once she’d deposited Mr. Barclay inside to retrieve Lillias.
Hmm …
“I knew her when she was no bigger than a sapling,” Mr. Barclay said, his voice rich with nostalgia. “And she had a wee bit of mischief-making about her, to be sure.”
Grace’s throat tightened, her eyes stinging a little. Oh dear, she already adored the man!
“Having lost her so early in life, your words could not touch my heart any more than they do. And I rather like the idea of her engaging in a little wholesome mischief now and again. It makes me feel even more connected to her memory somehow.” She gestured toward a small table near the large windows in the room. “Please, sit.”
He obeyed, settling into the chair with a weathered satchel at his side. Satchels always seemed to carry secrets—or at least the potential for them.
A thrill rushed up through her. Oh, she liked him very much.
“I can already tell you’re the sort she’d have been proud of.” His eyes glinted with his growing smile.
And the way he rounded his vowels combined with his sentiment nearly had Grace wiping away a tear.
“I only received your information from Rutledge House yesterday, and here you are.” She waved toward him. “Have you been in Harrington long?”
“When I didnae hear from you or your sister, I was concerned the inheritance may go unanswered, so I set out last week. I’ve only been in your wee town about four days, with my own visit to Rutledge two days past.”
Ah, then he knew the transfer of ownership and likely the reasons behind the transfer even more than Grace did. “I imagine you sent word to my sister then?”
He nodded. “But I can see now why it went unanswered until your husband replied yesterday.”
“Yesterday was certainly eventful,” Grace kept her voice steady at the remembrance of such a day.
“My condolences.” His face softened. “I regret adding urgency to your family’s grief.”
“Actually, I believe your timing is rather perfect.” Grace offered him an encouraging smile. “It provided a welcome distraction to Lillias and, I believe, some much needed hope for her future.”
He studied Grace a moment. “And for you?”
For her? “I’m much more interested in the fact that it is connected to our mother than anything else.” Grace’s top teeth skimmed over her smile as she leaned forward. “So as we wait for my sister to join us, I’d love to hear how you knew my mother. Was it only through the fact that you were her solicitor?”
The wariness he’d carried into the room seemed to dissolve. “We were cousins. She used to spend summers in Scotland before her marriage. She brought you and your sister once, when you were just wee bairns, but that was the last time I saw her.”
“And was that when she … handled the matter of the inheritance?”
He nodded, his sigh heavy with memory. “Aye, it was the last time. She finalized everything then.”
How sweet to know he cared about Mother, the tenderness in his voice undeniable. It made her want to rush across the Atlantic and claim this inheritance for dear Mr. Barclay as much as herself. “I barely remember her. A few songs she’d sing, her scent.” The bridge of Grace’s nose tingled a little. “And her laughter.”
He chuckled. “Aye, she had a braw laugh.”
His sentiments, accent and all these wonderful words! Grace’s fingers curled tightly against her skirt to stop herself from crossing the table and hugging him outright. “And when you saw her last, did she seem happy?”
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes for only a moment before his smile twitched a little. “Aye, she did. But she was also wise to your father’s … ventures, as they were. I think that’s why she secured this inheritance—for you and your sister. She was a good woman.”
Grace leaned forward, with every intention of taking the man’s hand into a gentle squeeze, but at that moment, the door burst wide and Lillias entered with Mrs. James on her heels, carrying the tea tray.
“Mr. Barclay, what a pleasure.” She swept Grace a glance and approached the table, with Mrs. James stepping around her to place down the tray. “I’m sorry to have kept you, but I hope my sister offered you sufficient welcome.”
“Indeed.” He stood, offering his hand. “Mrs. Dixon.”
Lillias’ smile faltered ever so slightly. “You know my married name?” Her tone held just a hint of surprise, as though she were still trying to decide if that was a compliment or an intrusion.
