Page 76 of The Highland Heist
“It truly is like something out of a novel,” Grace murmured, hardly aware she’d spoken aloud.
Frederick glanced over his shoulder from his place in the front seat, his lips crooked at a playful tilt. “Let me guess—Jane Eyre?”
She shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the castle. “No, this is more gothic than Thornfield Hall. It’s … wilder. I can almost feel the stories pressing against its walls. Secrets and curses and—”
“Drafty halls and an appalling need for maintenance,” Blake interjected from the front seat, his eyes twinkling in the rearview mirror.
She shot him a look. “And romance. Mystery. Can’t you feel it? The air practically vibrates with it.”
“I think the air feels cold.” Zahra muttered, burrowing deeper into Grace’s side. “My bones feel it.”
In early July? Grace wrapped her arm around the little girl’s shoulders. There was certainly a dampness to the air that Zahra had probably never known. “I’m afraid this climate will take a bit of adjusting to, Zahra. It’s very different than Egypt, even in summer.”
“I do hope we can leave the drama and danger to a minimum at this point and just have a practical solution to the entire thing.” Tony voiced from beside her. “I’ve had my fill for a lifetime.”
“I’m afraid, Tony, you’ve signed on for it until we have sorted out Mr. Clark’s nefarious plan, secured our inheritance, and safely returned you to your wife,” Grace said, trying not to sound snippy at his gloomy tone. After all, the man had just started living again over the past few days. She patted his hand. “I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but you’re not alone in the adventure now. Neither is Lillias. You have us.”
His smile didn’t seem to spread as quickly as it ought for such a declaration.
“I see a hotel up ahead.” Blake announced. “Since I assume you all will not be staying the night in the castle for this evening?”
“Not until we have more information, I think.” Frederick answered, peering through the car window in the direction Blake gestured. “Yes, that should do. Rowan’s Roost, is it?”
“Indeed, and a quite encouraging name for our temporary abode, I might add.” Blake shot back. “Especially considering our current adventure.”
“What do you mean?” Grace leaned forward in the car, trying to look ahead too.
The wooden sign for the inn not only held its name but a symbol of a tree with what looked to be red berries. Two birds alighted on the tree.
“If my Scottish lore is on point, the rowan tree is said to ward off evil and protect heroes,” Blake explained, shooting a grin at Grace through the mirror. “Or heroines, as the case may be.”
“I like the sound of that.” Tony said. “I may just stay inside the hotel for the rest of the time we’re here once I find Lillias.”
Grace opened her mouth to respond, but her attention snagged on a pair of figures across the street from the hotel. A woman in a black mourning dress pushed a stroller, her blond hair catching the dim light.
“Stop the car.” Grace gasped. “Blake, stop! It’s Lillias.”
Blake brought the car to an abrupt halt as Grace craned her neck, her pulse racing. ItwasLillias—there could be no doubt. But the man beside her—
Tony’s growl shattered the quiet. “No. It can’t be.No.“
Frederick twisted in his seat, his brow furrowing. “What is it?”
But Grace already knew. Her heart sank even before Tony voiced the terrible truth.
“That’s him.” Tony’s voice was guttural, raw. “That’s the man who stabbed me. That’s Clark.”
Chapter 19
Frederick sent Blake a look as if for clarification.
Mr. Clark was walking with Lillias? Here in Angloss? Out in the open?
All the pieces began to converge in his mind.
Of course. If Mr. Clark wanted Mosslea and the wealth associated with its natural resources, and he’d learned of a new will, why wouldn’t he rush forward at the first availability in order to find it.
And in Scotland he wasn’t likely known for going around stabbing people. At least, from his appearance nonchalantly walking down the street of Angloss. So he could parade around as a typical Scot charming ladies and doing business.
