Page 92 of The Highland Heist
Grace snorted into her tea, quickly covering her mouth. “Well, if those eyes could tell you where the will is, Mr. Locke, it’d save us all a great deal of trouble.”
His expression turned sly, his hand lifting his cup in an almost toast-like gesture. “Ah, lass, but where’s the fun in that? Even if I did know. Besides,” he added, his voice dipping low, “I think you’ve already been pokin’ about in places you ought not.”
Grace felt her cheeks flush. “Your eyes at work again, I see.”
He sipped his tea without answering, though his smirk did all the talking. Well, even if he didn’t know where the will was, Grace imagined he had his suspicions. Especially with the connection he had to the estate and Laird Blair.
“Forgive me for being so direct,” Grace said, setting her cup down. “But what happened between Lord and Lady Blair? I have the distinct impression theirs wasn’t a—happy marriage.”
The humor drained from Mr. Locke’s face. “No. Not happy. But not because of the laird. He married her for love. She”—he shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line—”she married him for the coin. Anything that glittered or could be spent, that’s all she cared for. Not him.”
“And he knew?”
“Aye, he knew,” Locke said, his voice thick with regret. “Told me so himself. He loved her anyway. Foolish man. But I caught her once, ye ken, stealing from him—taking the family jewels. Confronted her, I did, but she—she had a way of making a man feel smaller than a blade of grass.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Cold as ice, that one. But she got her due.”
A shiver slid up Grace’s spine at the sudden chill in his tone. “Did she?”
“Aye.” His eyes steadied on hers. “She killed him. I saw them that night—her walking him down to the loch. He was in no state to be walking, looked like he’d been drinking, but now I wonder if she didnae do something to him. They went out on the boat, just like they used to when they first married. And the next morn I found his body on the shore.”
Grace’s breath caught. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “And her? You didn’t find her body?”
“No.” His gaze darkened. “The kelpies got her.”
“The kelpies?” Grace blinked, unsure if she’d heard correctly.
“Aye.” Mr. Locke nodded solemnly. “Even the demons of the loch couldn’t abide her villainy. They dragged her down to the depths for what she did. That’s why her spirit haunts the castle now. It’s her penance.”
Grace thought it wise not to challenge the man’s tale, though the corner of her mouth twitched at the fantastical turn. She could certainly appreciate a little fiction thrown into a story. “Mr. Locke, I’d like to make things right for my cousin Alastair. The only way to do that is to find the will. If we don’t, Mosslea will be auctioned off.” She hesitated before adding, “I believe Mr. Kane wants it.”
“Her brother?” Mr. Locke’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Yes.” She almost saidayejust to see what it felt like. “If anyone knows where Laird Blair might have kept a second copy of the will, it would be you. The only way my sister and I can continue the Blair legacy is to find it.”
“And your sister?” he asked, his gaze sharp. “She’ll honor it?”
Grace hesitated, then smiled faintly. “The will leaves the estate to both of us equally. Neither of us can make a change without the other’s agreement. My sister’s looking for a fresh start, and I think Mosslea is that place.”
The silence stretched like a taut string between them until Mr. Locke cleared his throat. “Toward the end, the laird asked me to carve new pieces. Creatures with secret compartments in them. He never told me why. Just said it was important.”
Secret compartments? Grace’s heart quickened. Like the book she’d found. “Are they still in the castle?”
“As far as I know.” Mr. Locke’s voice softened. “He kept them close. Treasured them. They’d be in a place special to him.”
“His favorite room?” Grace asked, sitting up straighter.
“Aye.” Mr. Locke’s eyes glimmered anew as he raised his teacup. “If ye can find it.”
Chapter 23
Lillias arrived before Mr. Kane, and Grace knew immediately something was wrong. Her usually poised and polished sister looked pale, her eyes sunken with fatigue and haunted by something she wasn’t ready to name. A stark contrast to the Lillias of the previous evening, who had dazzled over dinner.
“I’ll take Zahra to keep an eye out for Mr. Kane,” Frederick said, a quick glance at Grace confirming he’d also noticed Lillias’ state. He ushered their daughter toward the window seat, leaving the sisters in a semi-private corner of the drawing room.
Once they’d settled, Grace leaned forward. “What’s wrong? Is it Thomas?”
Lillias blinked rapidly, shaking her head as her breath hitched. “No, Thomas is fine. Miss Cox has proven surprisingly capable once we worked through her difficulties with diapers.”
Grace was pretty certain everyone had an initial discomfort with diapers. “She seems to be a much better fit for you than me.”
