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Tempting the Highland Spy

Page 23

by Tara Kingston


  “And if she dies before that?” Mrs. Carmichael was direct.

  “I do not know the particulars. But I suspect the funds in the trust are not to be distributed to an heir in the event that something happens to her. Raibert has an incentive to keep her alive—at least, until September.”

  Dressed in a simple yet elegant ensemble of burgundy silk, Grace entered the dining hall on Harrison’s arm. Mrs. Carmichael followed close behind, attired in an elegant gown that brought out the color of her blue eyes.

  As they proceeded to their seats at the table, Grace noticed a pair of newcomers. She immediately recognized one of the men. The striking, golden-haired Adonis conveniently seated across from Lady Edythe was the actor, Jason Thornquist. Grace had watched him perform on the New York stage on numerous occasions. This close, she realized his photographs did not do him justice.

  A distinguished older man who appeared to be in his sixth decade of life sat to the left of Lady Edythe. With hair the color of a silver piece, striking dark eyes, and an elegant charcoal-gray suit with silver waistcoat, he was indeed a handsome specimen.

  As dinner commenced, Raibert went about the introductions. Rodney McGinty, the silver-haired gentleman, was an actor, an acquaintance from their days on the Glasgow stage.

  As Grace might have predicted, Lady Edythe fawned over Thornquist. Given her starry-eyed regard of the man, Grace would not have been surprised if the woman had not taken the time to mix up a love potion of her own.

  All in all, the conversation flowed easily throughout the meal, surprisingly pleasant. Belle appeared far more at ease than she had earlier that day, while Raibert played the enthusiastic host as efficient servers offered the guests culinary delights including a rich turtle soup and roasted duck with orange sauce.

  The dessert course had been served when Lady Sybil made her announcement.

  “I do hate to cast a pall over this evening, but I am finding it increasingly difficult to hold my tongue. I simply cannot abide pretending civility with a thief.”

  As she spoke, her eyes speared Grace. Swallowing against the sudden cotton in her throat, Grace placed her spoon beside the compote dish.

  “A thief?” Belle said, the question sounding like a little gasp. “What nonsense is this?”

  Lady Sybil heaved a dramatic sigh. “If only it were nonsense, dear. I’m afraid you’ve been deceived—we all have.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Raibert demanded as a hush fell over the table.

  “Allow me to be direct,” Lady Sybil said. “As you know, I suffered a theft. A brooch that had been in my family for a very long time disappeared last night.”

  Belle’s brow furrowed. “I understand you recovered the brooch.”

  Lady Sybil nodded. “Indeed, I have. It appears that the thief concealed—or perhaps discarded—the piece within the library. I suspect the culprit was aware they’d been spotted near my room and decided to hide the jewelry and return for it later, after the attention had dimmed.”

  Belle frowned. “While I am delighted that you’ve recovered your treasured brooch, I do not appreciate the way you’ve chosen to disrupt what had been a delightful evening with a baseless accusation.”

  “Baseless?” Lady Sybil scoffed. “I think not. I suspect you know who the culprit is and you are protecting her.”

  “Good heavens,” Belle said as Grace’s pulse sped ever so slightly. “You do not have to make a scene. This matter should be handled in private.”

  “I’ve no need to be discreet,” Lady Sybil said. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot say the same for one of your guests.”

  “Lady Sybil, this is uncalled for,” Raibert spoke up. “Where are your manners?”

  “Perhaps they have also been pilfered.” She gave a haughty sniff. “And to think my niece and I welcomed this woman as one of our own.”

  “Good God,” Raibert said. “What are you saying?”

  “It’s quite simple. You have a thief among your guests.”

  Lady Sybil pinned Grace with her gaze. Dear God, no—she couldn’t possibly suspect her. She’d taken nothing since she entered this place, much less the woman’s monstrosity of a brooch. But that wouldn’t matter. It was her word against Lady Sybil’s baseless accusation.

  The world began to tilt beneath her. Pulling in a long breath, Grace pressed her palms to the table to brace herself for what seemed inevitable.

  The color blanched from Belle’s face. “Lady Sybil, that is a horrible allegation. Please, do not cast a pall over our wedding festivities.”

  “Aunt Sybil, please—this is no place for such unpleasantness.” Lady Edythe twisted her napkin in her fingers.

  “I am sorry. Truly, I am. You know how I treasure my friendship with the Raiberts. But in good conscience, I cannot allow this to pass. You have unwittingly invited a known thief to these premises. And her name is Grace MacMasters.”

  …

  Harrison reached for Grace’s hand, covering her fingers with his own. She’d gone pale, tension pulling her mouth to a seam. Turning to Lady Sybil, he spotted the malicious gleam in her eyes, the delight the shrew’s solemn tone could not disguise. What had possessed her to level such a vicious accusation?

  She turned her cutting gaze to him. “Perhaps you were not aware of your wife’s past, Dr. MacMasters. I do understand that our, shall we say, baser emotions, may impair our judgment. A woman’s beauty can blind a man to unpleasant truths.”

  His blood boiled, but he forced a calm dignity into his voice. “What is the meaning of this? Surely you do not believe I will sit here and allow you to cast aspersions on my wife.”

  “I realize this must come as a shock to you. But I have it on good authority that she is a thief.”

  “Lady Sybil, I must insist that you cease these baseless accusations at once.” Raibert’s complexion had reddened with anger.

  “If only they were baseless,” the shrew said. “I’ve been searching my mind, trying to recall where I’d seen Mrs. MacMasters before. After my brooch went missing from my jewel case, the memory crystalized in my thoughts. Lord and Lady Fenworthy’s ball last summer in London was a grand affair, marred by the theft of Lady Fenworthy’s emerald ear fobs. Your wife was there, though her hair was darker. Nearly sable, as I recall.”

  “I was a guest at that ball, as were hundreds of others. I can assure you I took nothing from Lady Fenworthy. Or anyone else there, for that matter.” Grace’s voice was quiet and oddly calm, but strong. “Words cannot express my dismay at this horrible accusation.”

  Lady Sybil’s eyes narrowed to slits. She leaned toward Grace, a serpent’s smile pulling at her mouth. “My, what is that you’re wearing now, Mrs. MacMasters? Lovely emeralds adorning your ears. How brazen can you be?”

  “These?” Grace removed a jeweled adornment from her ear and placed it on the table. “It’s paste. Nothing so grand as what a woman of Lady Fenworthy’s stature would wear.”

  “Whatever you say, dear.” Lady Sybil dismissed her words. “Is it possible you suffer an illness? I’ve heard tell there are some unfortunate souls who simply cannot withstand the temptation to pocket something that appeals to them, regardless of the consequences.”

  “I’ve had just about enough.” Belle pinned the woman with her sharp gaze. “If you refuse to treat Mrs. MacMasters with due respect, I must ask you to leave this table.”

  Lady Sybil cocked a brow. “Dear, you do realize precisely with whom you are speaking, don’t you? I understand you are an American—with American ways—but surely you must realize the impact a woman in my position can wield.”

  “You have impugned the reputation of a friend,” Belle said. “I will not stand for it.”

  Rising, Lady Sybil sighed, a dramatic heave of air. “I’ve said my peace. Remember, I’ve warned you all. I’d suggest quite strongly that you advise the guests arriving over the course of the next three days to keep their jewels under lock and key.” She turned to La
dy Edythe. “Come along, Edie.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Lady Edythe said softly. “Perhaps later, after you’ve had a chance to cool down, you’ll understand how unfounded your accusations are. I’ll have no part of it.”

  Lady Sybil sniffed as if she had detected a most unpleasant odor. “Very well. But do be sure to keep watch on your valuables.”

  With that, she swept out of the room, her skirts swishing against her ankles, the sound like a burst of wind announcing her exit.

  “I am so very sorry, Grace,” Lady Edythe said. “I don’t know what’s come over her. I cannot imagine where she would gather such notions.”

  Grace trembled slightly against him. “I must say, I had not expected that.”

  “Please accept my apologies,” Belle said, toying with a silver chain that encircled her throat, inching it out from beneath her high collar. “I’ve never known her to cast stones without reason.”

  “I simply don’t know what’s come over her.” Lady Edythe’s features were drawn taut. “She hasn’t been herself lately.”

  “She’s always been a bit…easily agitated, but this is beyond the pale.” Belle’s fingers tugged absently at the necklace, slipping the pendant into view. Gaslight from the wall sconce glimmered against the heart-shaped stone. White as an opal, yet translucent as a diamond, the gem appeared to swirl the light, as if it were drawn into a vortex, capturing his interest like a mesmerist’s tool.

  His thoughts raced. A pendant with a peculiar stone had been taken after the brutal assault on the curiosities dealer in Glasgow. Was that the stolen necklace, coiled around Belle’s nervous fingers?

  And if it was, did she have any idea of the pendant’s origins?

  He slid Raibert a glance. Pouring himself a drink, the actor didn’t seem to notice Belle had revealed the necklace. Good. The less he knew, the better.

  “I’ll check on her in a little while,” Lady Edythe said, her expression softening.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Everyone has one, don’t they?” Thornquist said with a low chuckle.

  “Has one?” Lady Edythe puzzled over his statement.

  “An eccentric aunt.” He flashed a smile which Lady Edythe enthusiastically reciprocated.

  “Shall we turn our attention to more pleasant topics?” McGinty said, adjusting his striped necktie. “The Black Plague, perhaps?”

  “She’s a pip,” Raibert said, pouring a drink for himself. “Still, I do recall that incident, the one with Lady Fenworthy. Word of it reached as far as New York. The unfortunate woman lost more than a pair of ear fobs that night. Someone also made off with a fortune in jewels. They’ve never been recovered.”

  “Oh, my,” Lady Edythe said as Grace’s mouth pulled even tighter. “How very distressing.”

  “The tragedy didn’t end there,” Thornquist added. “I have this on good authority—a fellow in the theater company who was acquainted with the family. A few days later, Lady Fenworthy ended up at the bottom of her spiral staircase, dead of a broken neck. Supposedly, her death was an accident. But there were those who had their doubts. I include myself among those inclined to believe Lady Fenworthy’s demise might have been murder.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Throughout what remained of the evening, Grace kept an eye on Belle. Was it her imagination, or was the heiress unduly tense, even given the unfortunate stir Lady Sybil had created? For his part, Raibert appeared unaffected by Lady Sybil’s accusations. He’d downed a tumbler of whisky and headed to the game room for a rousing round of billiards, besting Thornquist’s shots numerous times, much to Lady Edythe’s apparent chagrin. She’d relished the idea of cheering on the man, but Raibert’s skill made that more unlikely by the minute.

  Raibert turned to Harrison, who’d observed the action with a tumbler of whisky in hand.

  “What do you say, MacMasters? Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  With a nonchalant shrug, Harrison set his drink on a marble-topped table while he accepted the challenge. Within a few minutes, he’d cleared the table.

  “I didn’t know they taught that skill in medical school,” Thornquist observed drily.

  Harrison chalked the cue. “They don’t. English pubs are another story.”

  “Another round?” Raibert’s question sounded like a challenge.

  “Of course,” he said.

  Grace glanced around the dimly lit room. The older man, McGinty, lounged in a corner chair, conversing with Mrs. Carmichael.

  Belle fanned herself, a flush covering her cheeks as she appeared suddenly overheated. “My, it is warm in here,” she said.

  “Are you all right?” Raibert asked over his shoulder as he prepared to take a shot.

  “Yes, I’ll be fine,” she replied. “I could do with something cool to drink, a glass of water.”

  “An excellent idea,” Grace said. “I’ll accompany you to the kitchen. Mrs. Carmichael, may I bring you something?”

  “I’m fine, dear,” she said.

  “Would anyone else like something?” Belle asked.

  Raibert flashed a little scowl. “You do realize we have servants to fetch whatever you’d like?”

  “There’s no sense rousing anyone from their sleep to bring me a glass of water. The household staff has their work ahead of them as the wedding nears.” Belle cast a pointed glance at McGinty’s cigar. “Besides, I’d welcome some air that doesn’t smell of smoke.”

  The excuse to leave the billiard room seemed an opportune escape. As Grace and Belle made their way along the corridor, away from the ears of those they’d left behind, Belle lowered her voice.

  “I am so very sorry about Lady Sybil. I will see to it that she does not trouble you again.”

  “Please don’t concern yourself. It does appear to have been an unfortunate coincidence that we both attended Lady Fenworthy’s ball. I suppose the sight of the ear fobs led her to jump to conclusions.”

  Indeed, it was ironic that she’d been accused of a theft at one of the few events she’d attended without helping herself to something along the way. She gave silent thanks that in this case, she could truthfully proclaim her innocence.

  “You are so very gracious. I don’t know if I could be so forgiving.” Belle’s gaze warmed. “Still, one must wonder how her brooch ended up in the library. I do hope one of the chambermaids has not developed a penchant for theft.”

  “I cannot imagine that is the case,” Grace replied. Someone had searched her things and displaced her brooch. Not a theft. More of a statement, making it clear her privacy had been invaded. As had Lady Sybil’s.

  “Do you think she might have made up the story?”

  Grace pondered the question. “I suppose it’s possible. She might even have dropped it without realizing it. There’s really no way to be sure. I am thankful she’s found it. I understand how difficult it is to lose a cherished possession.”

  “Ah, yes, I do know what you mean.” Belle sighed. “When Father died, I wished to have the garnet ring he’d always worn as a keepsake. It wasn’t exceptionally valuable, but it had great sentimental meaning to me.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “I don’t know.” Belle looked down at her feet for a heartbeat. “On the night he died, he was fully dressed. His pocket watch was in his vest pocket. His money clip was full. Everything was there, except that ring.”

  “How very peculiar.”

  “It’s possible he wasn’t wearing it that night, but that wasn’t like Father. That ring had been in the family for generations. Why would anyone steal it and leave behind more than one hundred dollars in cash?”

  Suspicions rose to the surface of Grace’s mind, but she didn’t dare voice them.

  “I must confess, I fibbed about the water,” Belle went on as they entered the kitchen. “I simply had to get away…from the smoke.”

  “The atmosphere in that room was rather oppressive,” Grace agreed.

  “I also wanted to be away from Donnal.” />
  “Oh, dear,” Grace said, surprised at Belle’s candor. “Have the two of you quarreled?”

  Belle shook her head. “There would be no point. He will not do what I want him to do.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I want him to send that awful woman and her insipid niece away from here. He claims he cannot turn them away.”

  “Perhaps they have other family, somewhere to turn, at least while the two of you settle in to your marriage. I can see that Lady Sybil would be a bit hard to take.”

  “Actually, she’s not the one who worries me the most. It’s Lady Edythe.” Her chin quivering, Belle moved closer. “It feels as if we are rivals. Donnal has tried to convince me it’s all in my mind, but I know what I feel.” Twisting her hands, she pulled in a breath. “I often sense that Lady Edythe views me as an intruder.”

  Grace considered her next words carefully. Was it possible the women were the ones to fear, and not Raibert? Had Mrs. Carmichael been mistaken about the talismans she found? Were the charms meant to transmit evil, and not protect the bearer?

  “This afternoon, someone left silver talismans in my chamber.”

  Belle gasped. “What are you saying?”

  “Small charms were placed on our bed. Mrs. Carmichael also found a charm in her room. I strongly suspect this ties in with spellcasting. Please tell me the truth—was it you?”

  “No.” Belle gave her head a miserable shake. “It’s followed me.”

  “Did Lady Sybil or Lady Edythe leave those talismans?”

  “I don’t know. Truly, I don’t.” Anguish colored her words. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. My father died because of me…because I pursued this horrid magic.”

  “You cannot blame yourself.”

  Belle caught her hands in hers. “I cannot go through with it—I cannot go through with this ceremony. What does it matter? We’ve already spoken our vows. We’ve already wed. More guests are set to arrive tomorrow. I must send them away. I don’t want anyone else here. Donnal will understand. I know he will.”

  “Do you trust him?”

 

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