Page 64 of The Highland Heist
“Well, it’s a good thing you do.” Grace offered. “Because I believe my sister is ready to hire you as the new nanny.”
Miss Cox’s shoulders sagged slightly, but there was a softness in her expression that hadn’t been there before. “With that in mind, Mrs. Dixon is afraid to stay by herself tonight, what with the possibility of another attack still lingering.” She looked between them. “She’s asked if she can share the room with me, if you two don’t mind keeping Zahra with you for the night.”
Frederick fought the sigh that nearly escaped his lips. His carefully planned evening alone with Grace, one in which he intended to express just how much he appreciated her, was rapidly slipping through his fingers. “Of course. Make whatever arrangements you need to ensure Mrs. Dixon’s comfort. We have a settee in our room which will suit Zahra quite well.”
Miss Cox curtsied, a faint blush lingering on her cheeks as she made her way down the hallway toward her room.
He paused just inside the doorway of their bedroom, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips. Without hesitation, she responded with welcome enthusiasm. Perhaps there was still a chance for a little quality time with his wife?
Her smile was all warmth, and she held on to his jacket, looking up at him with a glint in her eyes. “I suppose we’ll need to make plans to travel to Scotland once the funeral is over.”
Frederick nodded, pulling her deeper into the room, his fingers tightening at her waist. “If we have any chance of finding the will before the time is up.”
“At least we’ll be much closer to Havensbrooke again.”
His smile split wide. He loved how she’d not only fallen in love with him but also with his home.
And being the budding detective she was, she seemed to deduce the direction of his thoughts, because she turned toward the bedchamber.
“Closer,” he said, backing her gently until her legs bumped the end of the bed. “But still hours away. I mean to wire Elliott and Blake to have one of them meet us at the dock. Another trustworthy soul would be good to have in this case.”
Her smile flashed wide, and she rocked on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love it when you talk sleuth.”
He chuckled and buried his face into her neck. “If that’s the case, my dear Lady Astley, let me regale you with a very thorough investigation of the many ways I can take your breath away.”
Chapter 16
Frederick stood by the window, his waistcoat half-buttoned as he gazed at the darkening sky outside. The air seemed to press in, thick with the promise of a storm, and he couldn’t help but feel that the weather’s temper mirrored his own. The time was slipping by far too quickly, what with packing for Scotland, helping Lillias with the last of the estate matters in Harrington, and finishing up whatever investigation they could with Detective Johnson.
The small inconveniences of having to order breakfast out and Lillias’ penchant for sleeping late into the morning didn’t help with efficiency, but at least the police officer had remained on watch the whole night and alerted Frederick that morning that Mrs. Lindsay had begun to make some murmurings toward wakefulness.
A good sign for the investigation, especially if she could identify her assailant and the person with whom Mr. Clark had been in conversation—perhaps the same person.
And an officer had stopped in to share that Mr. Barclay had awakened during the night. Not for long and somewhat confused, but he had stayed awake long enough to take a few drinks of water. The nurse reported it as a good sign that he would heal.
So perhaps they could truly leave for Scotland within the week. Frederick would feel much better with Elliott or Blake at hand. In fact, he planned to contact Jack Miracle too, just to see if he could gain any counsel in the matter. There was a good chance that Detective Johnson’s jurisdiction didn’t include Scotland.
“Did Detective Johnson take the dagger?”
Frederick turned toward his wife, who’d been sitting at the desk for a good half hour writing in her notebook. Zahra, curled up on the settee with her own pages, barely looked up from her scribbling.
“The dagger?”
“Yes, the one Lillias found in Tony’s chest,” she said matter-of-factly, her eyes not leaving her notes.
Grace’s directness always caught him off guard, just as it did now. He hesitated, glancing at Zahra, who gave him a slight shrug before returning to her work.
Frederick then answered, “Yes, as I recall.”
“Well, that’s one less loose thread in all this.” She tapped her pen against the notebook and looked up at him, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. He could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “So far, I have these clues:
1. Lillias and Tony were in debt and unhappily married. Lillias was selling family heirlooms for money, and Tony was gambling badly, in a vain hope of resurrecting the romance they had seemed to lose in their near-poverty.
Frederick stepped from the window, his lips crooking at her mixture of facts and creative narrative.
2. Fake Officer Clark is a gentleman with a network of spies—or at least one who’s managed to insinuate herself into the house to gather information for Mr. Clark’s dastardly deeds.
Grace raised her pen toward him. “My bet’s on Mrs. James, but her continued presence here, long after the will’s been destroyed, leaves me … uncertain.”
