Page 77 of The Highland Heist
Though, come to think of it, Frederick had known a few Scots who could stab someone before breakfast, then charm a roomful of ladies and down a pint by supper. That might actually be the very definition of a Scot.
Tony shifted toward the car door, his posture taut with purpose, but Blake was faster. The man leapt from the vehicle with a fluidity that suggested he was part foxhound. Tony barely had time to reach for the handle before Blake was leaning in, all business, his hand resting lightly against the car frame to block Tony’s view.
“Stay calm, Mr. Dixon. This is not the time for mindless heroics.”
“I won’t sit here and do nothing!” Tony’s voice cracked, and he shifted toward the door. “Lillias is out there withhim.He’s dangerous.”
“He likely is.” Blake straightened slightly, his body shielding Tony’s movements from the pair now passing on the opposite side of the street. Lillias laughed at something Clark said, a sound that sent Tony lurching forward like a wound spring.
“She doesn’t know who he really is,” Tony ground out. “She’s walking into a trap.”
“And charging out there would only snap it,” Blake’s calm voice edged with steel. “If you reveal yourself now, he’ll bolt—or worse, he’ll use Lillias as a shield. You’ve already seen what he’s capable of, and I doubt we’ve met the limits of his cunning.”
“But arrogance is his weakness.” Frederick leaned forward, joining the fray. “Parading about the village like a peacock shows he thinks he’s untouchable.”
“Precisely.” Blake nodded in agreement. “That’s how we’ll beat him. But not if you turn this into a melodramatic reunion in the middle of Angloss. Right now, you’re our best card, and he doesn’t know you’re in the deck.”
Tony’s jaw tightened, but Frederick pressed on. “Clark doesn’t suspect you’re alive. That gives us a distinct advantage. He won’t act rashly while he believes he’s in control.”
“And if he’s befriending Lillias, it’s a very good sign,” Grace offered, her smile too bright for the fury on Tony’s brow. “It means he’s not found the will yet. He’d hardly waste time charming her if he’d already destroyed the evidence.”
Tony gaped at her. “Befriending my wife?”
Grace’s expression didn’t waver. “Yes. Frustrating as it may be, it’s a good sign.”
Tony’s gaze flicked toward the street again. Lillias tilted her head toward Clark, her laugh catching the breeze. Tony’s entire body tensed as if ready to spring from the car, but Grace’s hand on his arm held him in place.
“What would happen if you charged up there?” Grace’s voice softened, but her words landed with precision. “Besides nearly stopping Lillias’ heart when she sees her dead husband walking toward her?”
Grace’s unique phrasing of the scenario seemed to do the trick. Tony’s jaw slacked.
Grace continued. “Besides, we don’t have proof to secure Mr. Clark’s villainy.”
“Especially here in the Highlands,” Blake said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as though someone from the village might be pressed against the car door with a glass to their ear. “Clark could be the local favorite son. Accusing him of attempted murder and destruction of property might be about as well-received as marching into a ceilidh wrapped in an English flag.”
Frederick smothered a laugh behind his hand before turning to Tony. “You said it yourself—Clark doesn’t know you’re alive. That’s a rare advantage we can’t afford to waste. The moment he learns the truth, the game changes, and not in our favor.”
Tony raked his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up like the aftermath of a windstorm. “So what am I supposed to do?” he snapped, his frustration spilling over. “Sit here like some ghost while he plays games with my wife? Courts her?” His palm shot toward the direction Lillias and Clark had walked, his voice rising as he continued. “Probably feeding her lies about how he’s a decent human being and not some conniving, murderous—”
“I know it has to be hard, old bean, but for now we need to bide our time and outsmart him.” Blake leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “If Clark’s playing a game, we need to play smarter.”
“And he’s focused on the will,” Frederick added. “If we find it first, we take away his leverage. That’s the priority. Once we have it, we can deal with him on our terms.”
Tony hesitated, his eyes flicking from Blake to Frederick. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if I eventhinkshe’s in danger—”
“You’ll be the first one we send in, mate,” Blake interrupted, his grin returning with full force. He reached over and gave Tony’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “For now, though, patience. Clark’s arrogance is our greatest asset. We’ll let him think he’s ahead until we pull the rug out from under him.” Straightening, he nodded toward the road ahead. “Let’s get to the castle and start searching. If this all goes to plan, you’ll be the hero Lillias deserves.”
Tony muttered something unintelligible as Blake closed the car door.
“So, we’ll keep Tony hidden, gather clues, and hunt for a long-lost will in a centuries-old castle.” Grace’s grin spread enough to light her eyes as she met Frederick’s gaze. “Oh, that does sound like an absolutely marvelous adventure.”
Tony groaned and sank lower into his seat, his arms crossed in defiance of the world at large. Blake’s grin widened, as if he’d just won a particularly enjoyable round of cards. Zahra, their quiet observer, gave Grace her usual curious once-over, as though she were still trying to puzzle out how the woman’s mind worked. And Frederick simultaneously thanked God for his wife … and prayed for the safety of everyone when her fictional prowess somehow became much more real than it ought to be.
The little bell above the hotel door jingled as the group entered, the cozy interior of Rowan’s Rest wrapping them in a curious smoky scent. Grace tilted her head, trying to place it—peat, perhaps? She could identify the delicious aroma of baked bread well enough, and the combination created a homely charm. The intimacy of the surroundings wrapped around Grace like a hug.
A Scottish hug.
She liked it.
