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Frederick’s lips quirked. He folded his arms across his rather impressive chest and leaned against the door with a casual grace. “Well then, it appears we are safe at the moment.”

If they weren’t in such a confined situation, Grace would be tempted to rush into Frederick’s impressive chest and kiss him senseless until he whisked her away to their room.

Her face grew warm at the very thought. He seemed to follow her thoughts because one of his brows tipped in response.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t so much his clairvoyance as her inability to maintain a neutral expression when it came to her admiration for him.

“You find the most unexpected times to divert my thoughts, Lady Astley,” he said, his voice low and amused.

“You started it,” she replied, a much needed smile playing on her lips.

One eyebrow arched in perfect synchronicity with the other. “Me?”

Her smile widened as her cheeks flushed. “You look rather dashing guarding the doorway in your linen suit.”

His eyes darkened in that deliciously dangerous way of his, though his posture remained as calm as ever. “Perhaps we can discuss how dashing you think of me later, in our room?”

“I think that’s an excellent proposal, my lord, worthy of extended conversation.” She cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap like the demure wife she knew she wasn’t. “Now what did you discover from your visit to the Lucky Coin?”

He sent her a pointed look tagged on with a crooked smile that promised all sorts of things he didn’t speak.

It really was quite remarkable to blend so many exciting things together into what was becoming her life.

Mystery, intrigue, tenderness, danger, motherhood, travel, romance.

Marriage kept proving better than any work of fiction she’d ever read.

Well, she didn’t like the very dangerous parts, except if it meant rescuing someone—or being rescued by her own personal hero.

And she didn’t like the death parts for any reason.

Or the near-death parts, except when it involved the opportunity to cane-fight or watch Frederick wield a pistol.

But so many of the other parts proved positively delightful.

“Tony had an altercation with a man two nights ago. A foreigner,” Frederick said.

“Scottish?”

He nodded. “Went by the name of Clark.”

“Oh! Frederick.” She leaned forward, her hands twisting in her lap.

“And if Clark proves to be this Roberts fellow, then Johnson and Todd will hopefully find out when they question him at his hotel.”

Grace sighed back into her chair, trying to suppress a groan. “Then maybe we can end this entire situation before too many more horrible things happen.” Her eyes flicked to Mrs. Lindsay and then back to Frederick. “I don’t believe Lillias can manage much more.”

“What are your thoughts about Mrs. James?” Frederick glanced back down the hallway before turning his attention back to Grace.

Before she could answer, her mind sparked, a memory flashing to mind.

“Well, before I divulge that particular information, I just realized something. When we entered the kitchen, I noticed the windows into the back garden provide an excellent view of the area where Mr. Clark was meeting with our mysterious someone.”

Frederick looked back toward the kitchen, then locked his gaze with hers. “And you think whoever Clark met with recognized that Mrs. Lindsay may have seen them?”

“I don’t know for certain.” Grace shrugged a shoulder. “But the information about Mrs. James does make me wonder all the more about her involvement in everything.”

He tipped his head in anticipation of her elaboration, and she sent a quick look to poor Mrs. Lindsay. It felt a little strange to have such a vital conversation with someone unconscious in the room, but this was hardly the first time they’d done so.

“Lillias hired Mrs. James out of desperation after her former housekeeper left abruptly. Apparently, Mrs. James was referred by the previous housekeeper, according to her. Lillias needed someone to help with the baby and the house, and Mrs. James’ inexperience was a bargain.

She started working here two weeks ago.”

Frederick’s attention sharpened. “Not long after the inheritance became yours and your sister’s.”

“Exactly.” Grace stood and began to pace, her mind whirring through what they knew so far.

“Mrs. James’ service hadn’t been long, but enough to learn the workings of the house.

She could easily allow people inside without garnering suspicion or anyone noticing.

The murderer entered the house while everyone was out of it. ”

“Information an insider would know.”

“Exactly.” She rewarded her husband with a smile, then continued her pacing. “And she would have known when Lillias would return from her outing, allowing her to frame Lillias as a suspect.”

Frederick’s jaw tightened as realization set in.

“Mr. Clark was there to cast doubt on your sister’s innocence and to ensure the police were called quickly, leading to Lillias being placed under house arrest or, worse, convicted.

Her potential guilt would strip her of the ability to travel at all.

” Frederick’s gaze sharpened on her, as he came to the same realization flashing through her mind.

“What happens to your inheritance if you and Lillias do not claim it?”

Grace swallowed. The weight of it all was beginning to settle on her chest. “It goes to auction.”

Frederick’s face darkened. “And who might want that land, Grace? Bad enough to kill for it?”

Her pulse quickened as the pieces began to fall into place.

“There are resources on it. Coal, for one. But Mr. Barclay mentioned others.” Her breath caught in her throat.

“Frederick, Mr. Barclay brought the papers with him to his hotel for us to sign, in case we can’t travel right away, so we can still claim the inheritance before the time is up. ”

The look Frederick sent her deepened the new chill running through her chest. “Mr. Barclay told you this just a few hours ago?”

She nodded. “And is it possible that Mrs. James overheard the conversation?”

Frederick’s gaze hardened as he stepped back toward the hallway. “Grace, we need to find Detective Johnson. If Mrs. James is part of Mr. Clark’s plot and she overheard your conversation …”

“Then there is a good chance the next victim in this growing list of victims will be dear Mr. Barclay.”