Page 86 of The Highland Heist
Lillias nodded and then paused. “The more brains we have to help us locate this will, the better, Grace. Not everyone has to take up the mantle of a would-be detective to make accurate decisions.”
With that particularly misguided barb hanging in the air, Lillias and Blake exited the hotel. Grace resisted the urge to make a face at the door, settling instead for a resigned sigh.
“How will we search the castle with Mr. Kane among us?” she asked, turning to Frederick. “And what if we find it while he’s there? Is he likely to attack one of us to retrieve it?”
“Perhaps,” Frederick admitted, resting his elbows on the table, his steady gaze meeting hers. “But perhaps having Mr. Kane close is precisely where we need him to be. It’s easier to keep an eye on someone when they’re in your midst rather than scheming in the shadows.”
“Unless he’s already several steps ahead of us,” she countered. “He does have a ghostly sister stationed inside the castle. We could be walking into a trap.”
“Perhaps, but we have several things in our arsenal Mr. Kane does not.” He took Grace’s hand.
Grace arched an eyebrow. “And those are?”
“Your clever head and newfound friendship with Mr. Locke.”
Grace’s grin twitched. “Mr. Locke was very kind.”
“And I daresay from our brief acquaintance with him, he is not only amenable to you but also knowledgeable.” He raised a brow. “And we have a very alive Mr. Dixon.”
She grinned, her tension easing even more. “That is true.”
“And Blake.”
Grace’s laugh loosed. “Indeed, he is quite the charming addition to our arsenal, but you’ve forgotten one key addition.”
Frederick raised an eyebrow, his lips curving slightly. “And what’s that?”
“You, my dear Lord Astley,” Grace answered, watching his smile broaden. “You’re the calm to my—”
“Dizzying inventiveness?”
She laughed. “Which I’m sure you mean in the best way.”
“Without a doubt.” He spoke the words so gently, she felt certain he meant them in a way she didn’t fully understand but liked a great deal.
They moved toward the stairs to their room, but before they alighted, Grace turned to him. “You know, Frederick, I was thinking that for our search of the castle tonight, we really ought to take a rope.”
“And how are you certain this is a secret way into the castle?” Grace asked as she kept close to Blake on the path through the trees.
Frederick followed a few paces behind, his lantern swaying with his movements, while Tony brought up the rear, muttering occasional complaints about roots and brambles.
Frederick sighed. What a ragtag troupe they made: his fiercely determined wife, his infuriatingly clever cousin, and Tony—whose sole contribution thus far appeared to be an impressive inventory of complaints. If someone had told him a year ago that married life would involve midnight excursions in pursuit of a potentially murderous businessman and his questionably spectral sister, Frederick might have called them mad. Yet here they were.
Blake turned slightly, his lantern casting a mischievous gleam across his face. “You question my ability to commune with the local fae and extract their secrets?”
Grace’s quiet laugh filtered through the darkness, the sound pulling a grin from Frederick. If they were bound to die in a trap set by a deviant businessman and his pseudo-dead sister, he might as well do so with some of the people he loved best.
Well, except Tony. He barely knew the man and hadn’t been particularly impressed thus far. But will-hunting in a haunted castle beside his beloved wife and his best friend? That wasn’t the worst way to go.
“I’m so glad to hear that the local fae were so obliging,” Grace said, shaking her head with silent laughter.
“I may have followed our enigmatic Mr. Kane after escorting Mrs. Dixon to her hotel,” Blake admitted with an exaggerated tip of his chin. “He led me straight here.”
Frederick’s brows rose. “Remarkably convenient, isn’t he?”
“Suspiciously so,” Blake agreed, his grin ruthless. “Though Mrs. Dixon seems convinced he’s the very paragon of helpfulness.”
The castle wall loomed ahead, its jagged silhouette rising through the trees.
