Page 94 of The Highland Heist
When they reached the gatehouse, Mr. Locke didn’t respond to their knock, but he had left the gate unlocked and open, as if to confirm Grace’s suspicions that he wanted them to have free rein to search the castle.
“I suppose the old man’s hoping we’ll find the will too, dear Mrs. Dixon,” Kane remarked, offering his arm to Lillias with a practiced charm. “He’s not even going to censure our search anymore.”
He swept forward with the confidence of a man accustomed to getting his way. But Frederick felt a prickle of unease.
Something about this was too easy. Too simple.
Perhaps he’d become overly suspicious since being dragged—enticed—into Grace’s sleuthing escapades, but Locke didn’t seem the sort to abandon his post so conveniently.
Frederick touched the spot where his revolver was concealed beneath his coat. Where was Blake? He leaned close to Grace, threading her arm through his. “Keep your guard up,” he murmured near her ear. “Something about this doesn’t sit right.”
He gestured for Zahra to keep to his side.
The search began uneventfully enough, with cobwebs disturbed and long-forgotten sculptures unearthed from rooms that seemed untouched by human hands—or cleaning rags—for decades.
The first hidden compartment of note was discovered in a selkie sculpture in the dining room. Zahra, with admirable discretion, brought an emerald ring to Frederick while Kane and Lillias busied themselves on the far side of the room.
“Where did you find this?” Frederick sent a glance to Kane, keeping his voice low.
Zahra nodded toward the sculpture. “Hidden compartment, as Sayyida said.”
The next prize came from a large kelpie sculpture, where Frederick unearthed a pearl necklace neatly concealed in its stand. He slipped it into his pocket, his expression neutral. There was no knowing how many treasures Grace had uncovered, but the glow on her face as they entered each new room was evidence enough that she was thoroughly enjoying the hunt. Of course, they “looked” in other places, to keep Kane from suspecting anything, but between him and Zahra, they’d already found a ruby with the Blair crest on it, a set of diamond earrings, two jeweled pins, and a ring.
The Blair family treasures.
When they entered the library, Kane froze in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the scene before him. The bookshelves lay toppled, books strewn across the floor like the aftermath of a literary tempest.
To Grace’s credit, she kept her expression from giving anything away. She even managed a pleasant half-smile, though the way Malcolm Kane’s eyes lingered on them suggested he knew they knew.
Frederick didn’t like that look. It had the flavor of a fox watching hens from the shadow of the coop. Had Kane finally reached his limit of patience? Was this the moment he planned to eliminate anyone who could claim the inheritance? And where was Kane’s elusive sister?
“Do you think things like this happen often in old castles?” Lillias ventured, stepping gingerly around the sea of books. She nudged a heavy tome with her toe as if it might bite. “Didn’t we see a fallen portrait in one of the other rooms?”
“Indeed,” Malcolm replied smoothly, though his gaze flicked toward Frederick, a glint of something sharper than politeness in his eye. “Old houses are certainly … unpredictable.”
Suppressing the urge to check his revolver, Frederick gave a curt nod and turned to right one of the suits of armor near the fireplace. There were four of them, one stationed in each corner of the room. The one he adjusted, holding a broad sword, wobbled slightly before settling, its empty visor staring out at the mess. At least someone was keeping watch.
“Frederick, look.”
Grace’s voice drew his attention. She stood near the fireplace, her focus on something jutting out from beneath the mantel.
A lever—and one cleverly disguised in the woodwork.
It was almost hidden—would have been hidden—had the bookshelf still stood upright like last night.
She met his gaze with a knowing look, her lips twitching in the barest suggestion of triumph. “Alistair Blair’s favorite room?” she murmured before shrugging and pulling the lever.
A grinding, creaking sound filled the air as the floor near the mantel shifted, splitting open to reveal a narrow doorway. The movement sent a cascade of dust into the air. Frederick coughed. Kane, on the other hand, seemed to lose his composure entirely.
“What?” Kane exclaimed, stepping forward, his voice tight. “How did you—?”
“Secret compartments aren’t as uncommon as you might think,” Grace answered, as if it was commonplace then peered into the narrow opening.
“I suppose not.” Kane gave his head a shake, visibly regaining control. “My sister lived here for almost a year and never found this place. She always assumed her husband took solace in his library. Not in an entirely separate room.” He chuckled hollowly. “How clever.”
The space split the mantel from the wall, offering a small doorway only slightly taller than Zahra, but passable for taller individuals if they ducked. Frederick stepped forward, peering into the space. “I’ll go first.”
The space beyond was dimly lit by three narrow windows on the east side of the stone walls with a view of Angloss and Loch Ness and the east gardens a hundred fifty feet or more below. More shelves lined the walls with additional books, mostly further exploration of Scotland, history, or lore, complete with further carvings to explore.
