Page 90 of The Highland Heist
“This bookshelf didn’t fall on its own,” Blake said, inspecting the area where it once had stood. “It was pushed—conveniently, I might add.” He tilted his head up toward the balcony that wrapped around the room, its shadowed shelves looming like sentries. “Our ghost likely staged this little accident from up there.” Blake cast the room a look, his steely gaze defying the humorous tilt to his lips. “I suppose this is the part where we reconsider our evening plans?”
“For once, Mr. Blake, I actually agree with you.” Tony groaned as they started toward the library door.
They made their way out of the room, the oppressive silence following them like a shadow. Grace cast a look back the way they’d come. Why was Lillias’ intimate bracelet in the castle library? And why would someone try to hurt them over it?
As they descended the stairs, the faint prickle of being watched raised the hairs on Grace’s neck. She couldn’t shake the sensation, and the implications churned in her mind like a storm. If the clues added up, only two people could be behind this—and both were willing to kill to get what they wanted.
The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single oil lamp, its wick turned low to keep the light from spilling under the door to Zahra’s adjoining room. After helping Tony to his bed to convalesce, Blake had claimed an armchair in their room and lounged with his head tipped back, looking every bit like a man who had earned a moment’s respite after narrowly avoiding being flattened by airborne furniture.
The fire crackled softly in the bedroom hearth, its warm glow painting flickering shadows on the walls and giving the welcome sense of safety they’d lacked only half an hour before. Frederick sat on the small couch nearest the window, one leg stretched out and an arm draped casually over the armrest. His gaze, however, was fixed on the dark silhouette of the castle in the distance.
The room was quiet save for the occasional pop of a log in the fire, the three of them lost in their own thoughts, he supposed. Though Blake looked like he might be asleep. He stole a glance at Grace, who was removing her jacket after checking on Zahra. Despite her composed exterior, Frederick knew her well enough to recognize the slight tension in her shoulders. She had been too close to that falling bookshelf. His stomach tightened at the memory of the chaos—the crash, the dust, the instant terror of imagining her crushed beneath it.
She hadn’t been, though. Thank God. His Grace always ended up right where she should be in moments like that—safe, with him. The knot in his chest loosened just slightly at the thought. If their marriage had taught him anything, it was that his strength had limits. And he had to trust the people he loved most to the one who loved them more.
Blake broke the silence, his eyes still closed. “If tonight has taught us anything, it’s that libraries are far more dangerous than I previously gave them credit for. And I gave them plenty of credit.”
Grace flashed Blake a grin as she settled next to Frederick on the couch, tucking herself into his side. He instinctively shifted to wrap his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer, the warmth of her body a welcome contrast to the lingering chill of the events of the evening.
“Very dangerous and wonderfully intriguing, all at the same time,” Grace added, teasing.
“Ah, yes,” Blake murmured from his chair. “Like women.”
Grace let out a quiet chuckle, and Frederick gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, glad to have her safely at his side.
“Do you think Lady Blair knew who we were?” Grace asked. “Or recognized Tony?”
“I can’t say,” Blake replied. “But from the distance and the moonlight, I’d wager she wouldn’t have recognized Tony. However, I’m certain she and her brother knew exactly who we were.”
Grace leaned her head back against Frederick’s shoulder, the scent of rosemary and mint from her hair filling his lungs with another reminder of her safe place beside him. He brushed a kiss against her hair and noticed the book she held on her lap.
“What have you there?’
“It’s a book I found in the library authored by Alistair Blair,” she said, turning the cover so he could see it. “But I don’t believe it is exactly what it appears to be.”
“That’s not ominous at all, darling,” Frederick said with a wry grin.
Her smile widened, and she leaned in to brush a quick kiss against his lips—nothing more than a fleeting brush, but enough to send warmth through him. He was just about to make a remark when Blake’s voice interrupted.
“Fair warning,” Blake said, not bothering to open his eyes. “I amnotasleep.”
Grace opened the cover of the book, and her fingers paused over the hollowed-out center. A secret compartment? Frederick’s gaze sharpened as she slowly revealed a folded letter tucked inside.
“Frederick, do you think it’s the will?” she whispered, unfolding the page with delicate fingers only to reveal a short missive in some calligraphic hand.
If you’re reading this, I am likely dead.
“Well,” Blake squinted over at them, sitting up straighter in the chair. “That’s quite the opening gambit.” He waved toward her. “Do continue.”
I have long suspected my wife of marrying me for my wealth and nothing more. But she’s developed an unhealthy curiosity about the estate, the coal mines, and any other resources of Mosslea. I’ve grown to mistrust her and am suspicious that she’s taking some of the family jewels I’ve kept protected along with generations before me. If I am gone, I pray the next Blair can make Mosslea more secure than I was able to, but perhaps there is still time for me to change the course of the estate’s future. I hope it is not too late.
Frederick took the letter from Grace and examined it, then handed it to Blake. “His signature is here, with a date from four months ago,” he said. “Not long before the man was found drowned.”
“Our first real proof, I believe.” Blake said, waving the letter in his hand. “But not enough. As far as the village knows, Lady Blair drowned along with her husband, so we have to catch her to prove this.”
“It’s a breadcrumb, at least.” Frederick offered. “And if there’s this, there has to be more.”
“But what about Lillias’ bracelet?” Grace turned to Frederick. “She toured the castle with Mr. Kane yesterday, but it doesn’t seem accurate that she would have dropped her bracelet there and left it without notice. Not that one.”
