Page 76 of The Highlander's Holiday Wife

A familiar anger burned in Braden’s gut. He’d heard that sort of accusation before, and it made him want to throttle any fool who could say something so ugly.

“That is an incredibly callous view of the situation, and it grieves me that you were forced to listen to such nonsense.”

She let out a weary sigh, as if her little burst of fury had exhausted her. “Lord Beath never approved of Roger’s progressive ideas. And in some ways, I think it’s easier for him to simply blame his grandson. Roger did something foolish against his grandfather’s wishes and counsel and unfortunately paid the price for doing so.”

“I encounter some of those backward attitudes in my work, too.”

“It’s immensely frustrating, isn’t it? Some days I don’t know why I bother with the foundation.”

He gently bumped his shoulder into hers. “Och, lass, none of that nonsense. You do an immense amount of good. Everyone knows that.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose through her veil. “Thank you, but it doesn’t feel like it lately.”

“Then we’ll simply have to get to the bottom of this mystery, so you can get back to your work.”

There was a fraught pause.

“We?” she cautiously said.

“Yes. You’re stuck with me, at least until we find those children and make sure the threat against you and Felicity is eliminated.”

Braden sensed her weighing his words, trying to decide if she could truly trust him with everything.

Finally, she inclined her head in a nod. “Then how do you proposewego about that?”

Yes!

He felt a tremendous surge of relief that she’d finally accepted him. But since that response felt out of proportion to the moment, he just flashed her a brief smile.

“First, I have a question. While I understand Lord Beath’s motivations, why wouldn’t anyone else believe you, especially since you had proof?”

She shook her head. “But that’s just it. I don’t have proof. All I have are the suspicions Roger shared with me. He’d only just started to audit the foundation’s books. He was doing it himself, because he wouldn’t trust anyone else, at least initially.”

“Not even the other members of the board?”

Samantha waggled a hand. “Generally speaking, he trusted them. Under the circumstances, though, it made sense not to involve them. After all, someone managed to gain access to either the accounts or to the orphanage itself, which would suggest an insider. So he intended to keep digging till he found something and then go to the board.”

“And he was murdered before he had a chance to find anything.”

“Yes.”

“Was the board made aware of any of this after your husband’s death?”

“They all thought it was humbug, except for Arthur Baines. He and Roger were very close, so Arthur was quite distraught about the situation. The rest of them . . .” She let out a bitter snort. “I was just a hysterical woman, not to be taken seriously. Weak in the mind from grief.”

His heart ached for her, and for the wounds she’d been forced to carry.

“If any of them thought you weak in the mind,” he replied, “then they are a fat lot of nincompoops and chuckleheads, as my grandfather would say.”

She let out a ghost of a laugh. “He’d be right about that. Of course, it didn’t help that I then fell ill, because it seemed to confirm their theory. The weaker sex and all that nonsense.”

“Let me just say that my sisters-in-law would be delighted to give that pack of idiots a resounding thump on their tiny skulls—with the full support of my brothers, I might add.”

“It must be quite wonderful to have a family like that,” she said in a wistful tone.

Braden fought the urge to pull her into his arms. Only the knowledge that he would be taking advantage of her stopped him from doing so.

“Yes, it’s grand,” he replied.

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