Page 58 of If Not for the Duke

For the briefest of moments, she wanted to take his hands in hers and share the truth. But she knew from experience that he would only brush away what she told him or look at her as if she were an oddity. Perhaps even a combination of both. Or worse.

She nearly shuddered. How she wished she didn’t have a secret to keep. One that created a vast space between them. Then this handsome man who stood before her might be here for a reason other than concern for his sister or capturing a thief.

But that wasn’t the case. She needed to remember that.

“I’m only suggesting you proceed cautiously. I know from experience how difficult it is to find the Money Pit. Father thought many times he’d found it, only to realize that wasn’t the case. Take care, Sterling. Things aren’t always as they seem.” She hoped he didn’t realize she wasn’t only talking about Clarke and the treasure hunt.

Chapter Fifteen

“Aquestion hascrossed my mind,” Grandfather said, startling Lena from her thoughts.

They were sharing a quiet meal at home later that evening, something they did several times each week. Lena knew she was poor company, but after all that had transpired, she couldn’t think of anything but what ifs.

What if Bernice had been hurt worse?

What if the thief returned?

What if Sterling had been the one hurt?

“Of course.” She managed a smile and then took a bite of the salmon with piccalilli sauce. The tartness of the mustard pickle topping was usually one of her favorites. No matter that it tasted like sawdust because of her upset. Heaven forbid if Cook thought she didn’t like the way one of her favorite meals had been prepared. With that in mind, she took another bite.

“Why are you so determined to prove Clarke wrong?” The weight of his gaze had her reaching for her wine to take a deep sip with the hope of gathering her thoughts.

How could she explain? It wasn’t just her father’s reputation at stake, but her mother’s too, for she had believed in him. That meant it was tied to the man sitting at the table with her. But all of those things were tangled up with her premonition—the bone-deep knowing she continued to have that Clarke was wrong.

What could she do but be honest? With one exception, of course. She had no intention of sharing her bouts of intuition. Not when she’d been able to hide them thus far. At least, she hoped she had.

“I don’t want Father to be thought a fool. Or Mother either.” She met his gaze. “Or any of us.” Did he understand that she included him, along with her and her sisters?

“I understand that. But surely the truth will prevail eventually. Why create a fuss?” He took a forkful of the salmon as he waited for her answer.

“It could take years for Clarke to be proven wrong. All the while, people could be laughing at David Wright’s efforts, wondering what took him so long when the treasure will so easily be found by another.” She pushed the herbed potatoes around on her plate. “Then there’s Ella to consider and how much this is upsetting her in her delicate state.”

“Your sister is stronger than you realize.”

She looked up at that and smiled at the confidence in his tone. “You’re right. She is. But I still worry.”

“As do I.” His lips twisted, suggesting he worried more than he was willing to admit. “But why are you so certain? Or should I ask,how?”

Heat filled Lena’s cheeks as she wondered how to explain yet keep her sense a secret. “Surely you don’t think it will be easy to find the Money Pit and its treasure when Father spent so many years searching.”

“Agreed. But based on your confidence, that’s not what has you convinced.”

Lena’s breath caught. Her gaze searched her grandfather’s face. He couldn’t know about her premonitions. Could he?

Her best—only—hope was to act nonchalantly. “Just a feeling. An instinct, I suppose you could say. I’m sure you have those feelings at times.” Everyone did. It was just that hers were heightened. She released a quiet sigh at the lie.

He nodded and continued with his meal, though she was certain he wasn’t finished with the subject.

“There’s something you should know.” He set down his fork and leaned back in his chair. Davies started forward to clear his plate, but Grandfather waved him back with a flick of his fingers.

Unease curled through her. “Oh?”

“Your grandmother, God rest her soul, often had a feeling. A sense, you might say.” He smiled even if his expression held a hint of sadness.

Lena held her breath, not wanting to move or say a word in case he changed the subject. He rarely spoke of her grandmother.

“She had a Scottish grandmother. One who’d believed in things that few do. Especially not in these modern times.” He frowned as he turned the stem of his wine glass, obviously deciding what and how to tell the story. “She had a gift. The second sight some called it. She had visions that told of the future. She knew things that no one knew. Your grandmother had a touch of it as well. Nothing so clear as what her grandmother had. Perhaps the ability was reduced in the generations that followed her. But a gift, nonetheless.”

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