Tempting the Highland Spy

by Tara Kingston

  Belle stilled. “I do love him. More than anything.”

  “That isn’t what I asked.” Grace steadied her voice. “Tell me the truth. Do you trust him?”

  “I would not have married him if I did not.” Belle turned away. “It’s those women. It’s their fault. I feel it.”

  “Belle, I believe you may be in danger.”

  She whipped around, her lower lip quivering as she shook her head in adamant denial. “Donnal would not allow that. He loves me. And in my heart, I know he’ll protect me.”

  Grace could not back down. The fear in Belle’s eyes was very real, even if she wouldn’t admit to it.

  “How well do you know your husband? Do you know what he is capable of?”

  “Capable of? What do you mean?”

  “You may be in danger—it’s possible he isn’t the man you think he is.”

  Belle folded her arms like a shield. “Donnal would never hurt me.”

  “Please, think about this—you said it’s followed you. What did you mean?”

  Belle’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know my husband. But I do. He’s the only man I’ve truly loved—the only man who saw me as a woman and not an heiress. Donnal would never hurt me. But I’ve said too much. Like a fool, I thought you’d understand. I thought I could trust you.”

  With that, Belle turned on her heel and marched to the door. Grace hurried after her.

  “One more thing—” Belle regarded Grace as though she’d transformed into an enemy before her eyes. “As I am cancelling the ceremony, I’ve no need for a bridesmaid, now do I? I would like you to leave—at first light.”

  Lacing her fingers together to stop their trembling, Grace made her way down the corridor. Belle had rushed off to her room, making it clear she did not wish to continue the discussion. Well, she’d gone and done it now, hadn’t she?

  She’d accomplished precisely nothing since she’d arrived at the castle. She’d found no evidence to prove Raibert guilty of any crime, much less murder. She’d come upon no proof that Belle had not been involved in her father’s death. She believed Belle innocent. But her impressions of the heiress and suspicions of the others in the woman’s life meant nothing to the law. They’d mean nothing to Mr. Jones.

  And now, she’d managed to alienate the one woman whose trust she needed.

  She’d failed miserably.

  She’d destroyed the investigation in fine fashion.

  And to top it all off, she’d allowed her heart to be dragged into this rather hopeless muddle. How would Harrison react when he learned that her concern for Belle’s safety had led the heiress to call off her for-show-only ceremony and send them packing?

  She sighed, a miserable sound wrung from the depths of her being. There was nothing to be done about it now. When she made a mistake, it was a humdinger.

  A shadow crossed her path. Jason Thornquist came into view. He stared at her, his eyes hard and questioning.

  “I saw Belle rushing back to her room. What did you say to her?”

  The hairs at her nape prickled in an instinctive warning. Something was wrong. The man had no cause to look at her that way. Instinctively, she took a step back.

  “We had a bit of a disagreement. A minor spat.” She inched away in retreat. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Why are you ill at ease? Were you expecting to roam around this place without anyone noticing?”

  “I beg your pardon.” She took another step back, out of his reach.

  No trace of the charming man she’d met at dinner remained. “Thieving again, are you?”

  He lunged, easily closing the small distance between them. One hand clamped over her mouth as he dragged her against him. What madness had come over him?

  A cloth she hadn’t noticed in his hand grazed her cheek. He pressed the felt to her face. Covering her nose. Her mouth.

  No! Alarm careened through her. Jerking her head away from the cloth, she gasped for air. Desperate, she kicked her heel hard into his shin.

  “Goddamned bitch,” he muttered. As the cloth fluttered to the ground, she rammed her heel into him again and the tension in his arms eased—just enough for her to pull free.

  Screaming for help, she bolted away.

  He chased her. Long-limbed and swift, he caught her easily and pressed a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

  He hauled her into the unoccupied wing of the castle. He carried her kicking and flailing into an empty room. Utter darkness surrounded them. His hands fell away, and he shoved her toward a dark corner, closed the door behind them, and lit a small oil lamp.

  The dingy light cast shadows against the wall. Keeping her gaze on him, she scrambled across the floor. If she could get to the door—

  Her foot caught on an obstacle. She stumbled. Catching herself, she turned to look behind her.

  Dear God! A body—was that a woman?—sprawled on the floor.

  Her stomach lurched. Sickened, she pressed a hand to her mouth.

  She drew back. The lamp cast a glow over the unmoving form crumpled near her feet.

  Lady Sybil.

  Dear God, what was happening?

  Behind her, the door opened.

  A woman strolled in. Slowly. Almost leisurely.

  Lady Edythe.

  Light gleamed off the long stiletto in her right hand.

  “I see you’ve discovered my aunt. Such a shame the two of you quarreled. No one ever imagined you’d be capable of murder.”

  “What…what are you talking about?”

  Lady Edythe stared down at the body. “I don’t know if you had a chance to notice, but she’s been stabbed. The dagger strike pierced her heart, poor dear.” She laughed softly. “Of course, as you can imagine, I am utterly bereft. I assure you, my grief knows no bounds.”

  “My God—you killed her.”

  “Yes.” The word dripped like poison from Lady Edythe’s tongue. “The crone was far more trouble than she was worth. But she did serve her purpose tonight. Her accusation was a brilliant touch, if I do say so myself.”

  “You engineered that—you made her believe I was guilty.”

  “Ah, you are the clever one.”

  “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “It wasn’t planned,” Lady Edythe said coolly. “Not at first, at least. When we arrived here, neither of us imagined I’d be forced to plunge my dagger into her chest.”

  “Forced? Have you gone mad?”

  “Oh, such a stickler for details. All right. I’ll admit it. That was a bit of an exaggeration. I wasn’t forced, not in the conventional sense. Actually, I rather enjoyed it. A bit of suggestion, and Sybil performed precisely as I’d expected.”

  “But why…why would you kill her?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Lady Edythe heaved a theatrical sigh. “Someone needed to die. She seemed the most reasonable choice. After all, who else would you have motive to kill?”

  “You have gone mad. I had no reason to kill her.”

  Lady Edythe’s rouged lips pursed. “That’s where you’re wrong, dear. You can be sure the staff heard her accusations. I can only imagine they had a grand time with that juicy bit of gossip—a well-to-do lady, pilfering jewels at every turn. In a fit of pique, you killed her—the woman who’d ruined you.”

  “No one would believe such a thing.”

  Lady Edythe shrugged. “You’d be surprised what the authorities will believe. The servants’ quarters are filled with witnesses to the scene at supper. They won’t dare counter the master of the house’s explanation of events.”

  Swallowing hard against her fear, Grace struggled to stay calm. This shrew intended to kill her, just as she’d murdered Sybil. Her blood running cold as ice water, Grace discreetly slid her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt. She’d made a point to carry the fan Mrs. Carmichael had provided her throughout this assignment. Thank God.

  But where was Harrison? Surely he’d noticed she had not returned.

  And Mrs. Carmicha
el—the woman didn’t miss a thing. By now, she would’ve realized something had gone awry.

  Unless something was wrong.

  Devastatingly wrong.

  Terror welled within her, threatening to overtake her. To overwhelm her.

  She fought it. She had to remain strong.

  She had to keep her wits about her.

  It was the only way to survive this.

  The only way to ensure Harrison and Mrs. Carmichael made it out of this place alive.

  In her mind’s eye, she pictured her sister. Claire needed her. And Aunt Thelma would crumble if something happened to her.

  She had to endure this.

  Whatever it took, she had to live.

  Heavy footsteps thudded toward the door. She turned to face the leering features of the massive brute who’d attacked her in Edinburgh.

  O’Hanlon.

  Recognition slammed into Grace like the most vicious of blows. She choked back a cry. It all made sense now. O’Hanlon was here. He knew who she was. He knew enough to shred the disguises she and Harrison had crafted.

  “Ye look surprised to see me,” he said with an ugly sneer. “That soddin’ jail couldn’t hold me. Not when I had something as temptin’ as you to hunt down.”

  “If you want to keep all your parts, you’ll stay away from her.” Lady Edythe spoke in a cool, controlled tone—a monarch addressing a servant. “Do something with Sybil, will you?”

  With a curt nod, he dragged Sybil’s body closer to the corner. “I’ll be back for ye, later,” he said to Grace with a tip of his flat-brimmed hat as bile rose to the back of her throat.

  Lady Edythe kept her eyes on him as he left the room, seeming not to trust him to follow orders. As his footfalls plodded down the corridor, she closed the door behind him.

  “I actually regret you have to be a part of this. I rather liked you. If only you hadn’t interfered.” Lady Edythe spoke so very coolly, so logically, it was clear her soul had gone dark. “Everything was going according to plan with that dull little cow. But then, you had to start putting ideas in her head.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grace said, drawing her out. The longer Lady Edythe talked, the more chance Grace had to position herself for escape.

  “Of course you do. Don’t pretend to be dense. You know quite well I’m referring to his heiress.”

  “Raibert is a part of this—why? What could he possibly have to gain?”

  “And I thought you were clever.” Lady Edythe frowned. “The answer to your question is—everything. Soon, it will all flow to us. Every penny of her father’s fortune will be ours.”

  “Dear God—she was right. The two of you…”

  A low, ugly laugh escaped Lady Edythe’s lips. “It’s always been the two of us. Long before he ever laid eyes on her. Of course, she didn’t know that, not until he returned to Scotland. While she was in America, she could delude herself that he loved her. But she’s only a pawn.”

  “Why did Raibert pursue her if he wants you?”

  “And settle for a life of poverty? His family squandered his estate. That’s no way to live now, is it? A life in the gutter is not for me.”

  “So he found an heiress.”

  “He certainly did. It wasn’t as if he could be satisfied with me. I’m not even a lady. I’m just plain old Edythe. Sybil and I made up those titles. Foolish Americans, so eager to believe.”

  Grace pulled in a breath, shifting her tactics a bit. If she could sow doubt, she might set Edythe off kilter. That would work to her advantage.

  “What do you see in the man? It’s clear he doesn’t love you.”

  She shrugged. “What is love? Some bloomin’ fantasy. His choice was perfect. She even fancied herself to be a blasted witch. Just like Sybil did.”

  “But the spells…the potions you referred to?”

  Edythe laughed, a low, ugly sound. “I was playacting for that meek little bird’s benefit. She believed I had powers, that I could put hexes on people. Dear Sybil even tried to protect you. She’s the one who put those trinkets in your bed.”

  “She accused me of being a thief…she caused that scene. Why would she want to protect me?”

  “That was earlier, before I convinced her you’d stolen her brooch. I’m surprised she didn’t creep back in the room and retrieve those foul little toys, if only for spite.”

  “You didn’t have to kill her.”

  Edythe shrugged. “She was a cloying plague of a woman. It would’ve happened sooner or later.”

  Throwing Edythe a glance over his shoulder, Thornquist scowled. “If you don’t stop talking, I may just toss you out of the window.”

  “If you expect your share of the money, I suggest you treat me with the proper respect.” Edythe stared daggers at him. “If you do as I say, you’ll soon be a very rich man. But if you make me angry, I’ll ruin you. I’ll see to it you’re nothing more than a stagehand.”

  “God above, what does he see in you?” Thornquist bit off the words.

  A sly smile curved her mouth. “As if you didn’t know the answer to that.”

  My God, did the woman possess an ounce of decency?

  “We need to finish this,” Thornquist said, low and surly. “Every minute we delay exposes us to more risk.”

  Finish this. The implication unfurled a current of fear through Grace. If they believed she would be passively led to slaughter, they were truly mad. She’d be damned if she’d make it easy for them.

  The door opened. Raibert walked casually through the portal.

  “Where the hell is O’Hanlon?” Thornquist demanded.

  “He went after MacMasters.” Raibert shot her a speaking glance. “I understand you’d made O’Hanlon’s acquaintance before you came under this roof. You took something that belonged to him. Now why would you do such a foolish thing?”

  Thornquist scowled. “Damn it, why did you leave MacMasters to him? You know he’s unreliable.”

  “MacMasters seems to have vanished,” Raibert said coolly. “O’Hanlon will find him. He’s got a score to settle.”

  “MacMasters knows she’s here.” Ghoulish excitement colored Edythe’s voice. “He’s going to charge to the rescue.”

  Raibert turned his venomous gaze to Grace. “I wouldn’t count on a rescue if I were you. O’Hanlon will gut him.”

  Thornquist’s nerves showed on his face. “And what about McGinty? And that insufferable old woman?”

  “We put enough sedative in their drinks to knock out a horse,” Edythe said.

  “I thought O’Hanlon would do the job,” Thornquist went on. “I don’t intend to take care of the dirty work here while he chases after some bastard he should’ve killed in Edinburgh. When I agreed to steal that damned dagger, getting blood on my hands wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Raibert slanted Edythe a glance. “He’s mighty full of himself tonight, isn’t he?”

  “Bugger off,” Thornquist said. “You do realize that if your dear wife happens upon us, this will all be for nothing.”

  “What that bird-witted ninny thinks doesn’t matter. If need be, we’ll lock her in here until she collects her inheritance. And then I won’t need to look at her mewling face ever again.” Edythe smiled wickedly. “Her money will be mine.”

  Raibert observed the scene with a look of mocking disgust. “Don’t be so sure of that. I may rid myself of all complications, including you.”

  “Oh, darling, you don’t mean that,” she said. Strolling over to Thornquist, Edythe eyed him from head to toe. “You really are a handsome man. You know that, don’t you? I can see why the women moon over you when you’re on the stage.”

  He glared at her. “I want to get out of here. Let’s get this over with.”

  Light glinted off Edythe’s steel blade. “As you wish, my dear.”

  With that, she plunged the blade hilt deep into his gut. Crying out in agony, Thornquist clutched wildly at the knife.

  “Why?” he gasped.<
br />
  “Isn’t it obvious?” Edythe grinned. “We’ve no intention of sharing that fortune. Not with you. Not with anyone. As for your sudden absence, I’ll simply say you stormed off in a huff after I denied your advances. No one will question your disappearance.”

  He collapsed to the floor, writhing in misery. Sparing him a glance, Raibert stalked after Grace.

  Step by step, she retreated.

  But he kept advancing.

  “Aren’t you going to plead with me? I’d think you would come up with something.”

  “Pleas for mercy do not matter to a man like you.” Desperation pumped through her veins. She had to act. She had to defend herself. There was no choice.

  Her fingers curved around the fan. She’d break his nose. And then, she’d go for the throat.

  He slowly shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s a damned shame you had to show up here and put ideas in my darling wife’s head. I can’t let her leave me.”

  “Belle won’t go. She loves you.”

  “I believe you,” he said quietly, seeming to ponder her words. “A few sweet nothings were all it took. She’s so trusting. She didn’t even suspect a thing when I solved the problem of her father.”

  “Solved the problem?” Grace heard the words spring from her mouth in shock.

  “As you can imagine, he did not approve of an actor running off with his daughter. He threatened to disinherit her if she married me. So, I had our friend Thornquist take care of the matter.”

  “If we’d known her father had divided up his money, leaving her a claim to only a mere fraction of his fortune, we would not have invested so much time and energy in the cow. We would have moved on to someone more promising.” Edythe gritted out the words as she pulled the blood-stained blade from Thornquist’s still quivering body. “But it was too late. The deed was done. Fairchild was in his grave, and she still could not touch that money.”

  “That will change in the autumn, when she’ll receive her share. Then, I can be finished with her as well.”

  “It has been a long wait, darling. In the end, it will be worth it,” Edythe murmured. She turned to Grace. “For now, we need to deal with the immediate problem—what to do with you. If you scream—if anyone comes running to your rescue, we’ll kill them as well. I’m sure you don’t want that on your conscience.”