Page 27

After watching Frederick take off on such an adventurous run, Grace had hoped they’d have a moment to discuss their respective discoveries—his from the gambling house and hers from Mr. Barclay.

But Mrs. James’ declaration had flung everyone into a whirlwind of action, leaving no room for such luxuries as conversation.

Detective Johnson charged in the direction Mrs. James pointed, Frederick close on his heels, with Officer Todd trailing behind.

Grace tightened her grip on Zahra’s hand and cast a glance at Lillias as her sister descended the stairs.

Poor Lillias looked as if she might very well be the next to collapse.

“What—what is happening to my family?” Lillias’ voice trembled, her usual composure shattered.

For the first time since Grace’s arrival, the real vulnerability of the situation showed on her sister’s face. The lostness. And in that single moment, Grace knew. Lillias had nothing to do with any of it—not Tony’s death, not the inheritance chaos, none of it.

But then why Tony and Lillias? Why now? And what on earth did this attack on poor Mrs. Lindsay—the cook, for heaven’s sake—have to do with anything?

The same maddening thought kept circling in her mind. The inheritance?

But how did Tony factor into something that was Lillias’ by right?

“I don’t know, Lillias, but we’re going to sort it out together.”

To her surprise, Lillias didn’t summon her usual derisive look. Instead, her expression softened, almost as if relief had found its way through the cracks of her fear.

“You stay here in the parlor and rest. I’ll be back soon.” Grace squeezed her sister’s hand before hurrying after the others, Zahra’s small hand still firmly in her own.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she needed to keep hold of Zahra, but the whirlwind of Frederick’s chase after the false Clark and the sudden attack on the cook left her uneasy.

And though Zahra had an excellent start at sleuthing, the little girl was still only about ten, and an introduction into any family shouldn’t be this chaotic.

Should it? Her thoughts spun back to her very unexpected introduction to Frederick’s family upon marriage and she reevaluated her earlier idea.

Perhaps dangers and mysteries were just a part of family introductions.

The kitchen greeted her with chaos: Detective Johnson and Frederick knelt beside Mrs. Lindsay, who lay sprawled on the tiled floor, bonnet askew, her face a ghostly white. Todd hovered by the open back door.

The breeze sent the curtains fluttering like restless ghosts.

A thrill traveled up Grace’s arms at the very thought.

Ghosts seemed to be a part of family introductions too. At least where she was concerned.

Frederick knelt beside the cook, pressing two fingers to her neck. “She’s alive,” he said, relief evident in his voice.

“Alive?” The words burst from Mrs. James. Her eyes blinked wide and her shoulders slumped with a sigh. “Oh, thank heavens!”

“There’s blood on the back of her head though,” Johnson noted grimly, his sharp eyes turning to Mrs. James. “What happened? Did you see anyone?”

Mrs. James shook her head, her hands twisting in her apron.

“No, sir. I was just coming back from the parlor after setting out the tea things when I heard the crash. Mrs. Lindsay has been known to take issue with the stove from time to time, so I thought nothing of it—until I came in and saw …” Her voice faltered, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “It was awful.”

Grace looked down at the scene, trying to think despite Mrs. James’ distractingly dramatic sobs.

Grace was beginning to realize all the more how very few women are prepared for such scenes as unconscious cooks after a break-in and mysterious possible-murderers in one’s back garden.

However, Mrs. Lindsay could cook, which was much more than Grace could do.

And Mrs. James could carry a tea tray without shaking it so much it threatened the teacups.

So why wouldn’t it make sense that some women took dangerous situations with much more clarity than others. God did like variety.

And life was dangerous.

And people desperately needed good cooks and excellent tea.

So it made perfect sense.

“The intruder must have escaped out that way.” Frederick gestured toward the open back door, his usual calm expression a shade grimmer. He turned to Mrs. James. “Is there a place we can lay Mrs. Lindsay where she’ll be more comfortable?”

Mrs. James blinked and nodded. “Yes, of course. Her room.” She stepped toward a small narrow hall next to the kitchen. “This way.”

Lillias entered the room, her gaze flicking nervously to Mrs. Lindsay’s unconscious form. “Lonnie, our kitchen boy, is up front at the door talking to one of his friends. Should I have him fetch the doctor?”

“Yes. Right away.” Johnson motioned for Officer Todd to help. Together, Frederick and Todd carefully lifted Mrs. Lindsay and carried her out of the kitchen, their hushed murmurs of conversation fading as they moved down the hall.

Grace’s eyes roamed over the disarray: a spilled stew pot, an overturned stool, faint scuff marks near the back door.

And then her gaze caught the garden wall outside, positioned perfectly to offer a view of Mr. Clark and the stranger’s earlier rendezvous.

Her breath shuddered out of her, as a new theory began to crystallize in her mind.

What if … what if Mr. Clark wasn’t meeting a man? But a woman?

Grace’s attention shot to the narrow hallway where Mrs. James led the men into another room with Mrs. Lindsay in tow. How ridiculous of her to overlook a very important possibility.

A fresh, unsettling thought bloomed in her mind, and for a moment, she stood frozen.

How ridiculous not to have thought of it.

Grace had read enough mysteries to know that the most unexpected culprits were often the most dangerous—especially if they were of the female persuasion.

After all, hadn’t the mastermind behind the Venice mystery been a woman?

And the murderer of Frederick’s father and brother had been a woman too.

A slow frown creased her brow. Women were terribly dangerous.

Grace began righting the room, Zahra moving to help.

Meanwhile, the men murmured in conversation from the room next door, their voices rising and falling in such a way that Grace could almost make out their words.

She longed to listen in, but her thoughts were quickly redirected when Lillias returned, scanning the room.

Her face was still pale, and her eyes looked as though they’d borne the weight of a thousand sleepless nights.

“Lonnie’s gone for the doctor.”

“That was excellent thinking.” Grace offered an encouraging smile.

Lillias pulled a shawl tighter around her shoulders, leaning her head against the doorframe. “This can’t keep happening, Grace. My whole world is falling to pieces and I don’t know what to do.”

The weakness in her voice hinted that Lillias’ strength may give out any moment.

“Well, sitting would probably be a good idea. Come, we’ll sit while the others handle things.” Grace motioned her toward the parlor, glancing back toward the kitchen hallway. Oh how she wanted to know what they were saying and observe Mrs. James’ responses, but Lillias needed someone.

Grace straightened. She may very well be the only someone Lillias had. And what did typical women do when they were distressed? “We could have some tea.”

But Lillias didn’t move. Instead, her gaze trailed back toward the stairs. “I need to see to Thomas.”

Grace’s instincts told her that Lillias, in her current state, would likely do more harm than good attempting to navigate the stairs.

“I’m sure he’s fine for the moment,” Grace said gently. She turned to Zahra, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “Would you go check on Miss Cox with little Thomas, please?”

Zahra hesitated only a second, before disappearing down the hallway toward the stairway to the second level.

Lillias slid into the chair at the parlor table and pressed her fingers into her forehead.

“You can’t know what it’s like. This life.

” The previous bitterness had quieted, replaced by a tone of resignation that Grace wasn’t sure was any better.

“It hasn’t been all bad. Not at first.” A weak smile flickered.

“Tony wanted everything to be easy for me. Bought anything I asked for—or anything he thought would make my life more like what I’d been used to.

” She trailed off, her chin trembling. “He was happy too. We lived in this little world of ours and played house like we had money to spare.”

Grace sat down next to her, questions ricocheting in her mind, but something paused her usual impulsivity toward answers.

Grace had learned more about the value of listening during her last two mysteries.

And in truth, sometimes people just needed to be heard.

Perhaps, the carousel of emotions her sister had been through over the last two days, not to mention the previous few months, had started to settle into something gentler and more introspective than resentment.

“But it couldn’t last.” Her sister’s weak laugh dissolved into a frown. “And I didn’t want to let go of the beautiful things in my life. The status. The fashion.”

“So Tony tried to work harder?”

Lillias nodded, but her eyes clouded over.

“Especially with the knowledge of our baby coming soon, but … it wasn’t enough to satisfy me.

” She wiped at her cheek, a tear slipping down.

“Tony may have struggled with gambling, but I struggled with such a vile discontent that it led him to the gambling.” A sob slipped from her.

“No wonder I’m reaping the consequences now. ”

Grace reached for her sister’s hand. “It’s not all your fault, Lillias.”

Lillias looked up, a frown crossing her features. “What do you mean?”