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Grace had a tremendous imagination.

This was no news.

But to bring someone back from the dead seemed a little extreme, even for her.

So Frederick stared a full five seconds, trying to understand what she’d just declared.

Of course, the two of them had been through a great many unexpected things in the span of their short marriage, and he’d hoped a simple visit to see her family would prove a respite among their many adventures.

But he should have known. Whether trouble followed him or her, it always seemed to find them.

Besides, Mr. Ferguson’s last letter in relation to the funds associated with the marriage contract to Grace, had induced an unexpected wariness.

The man’s responses had remained vague regarding the third installment, inspiring a hint of concern.

Paired with some of his own recollections surrounding Mr. Ferguson’s behavior upon first meeting him, the current situation made sense.

While painful for his dear bride and Frederick’s pocketbook, in hindsight, these memories provided clarity.

In all honesty and much more by heavenly hand than his own, however, Frederick’s greatest prize from the contract had been wholly unexpected.

Grace. In more ways than one.

So he’d dismissed the concern at Mr. Ferguson’s ambiguity.

But the moment Grace mentioned unexpected improvements to Rutledge’s grounds, his suspicion had spiked.

The temptation to fume for the injustice done to his wife stung through his chest, but now was not the time for fury. Grace didn’t need that reaction from him. Not with the upheaval this news caused her.

Yet the fact that Mr. Ferguson had lied about the full dowry, whether intentionally or by conveniently leaving out the information, lured Frederick back toward two age-old weaknesses.

Mistrust.

And fear of bringing shame upon his family name.

Fortunately, he had grown enough during the last seven months of marriage to recognize the ghosts before they haunted him for too long.

Grace’s presence in his life, her love, had brought him to an awareness of better priorities and the power of faith, no matter the unexpected or difficult.

And she’d proven her love, strength, and devotion to him and their marriage, taking on all the demands—and at times, life threatening moments—with a passion and assurance that baffled him.

And built up his own confidence.

And to be honest, increased his prayer life.

Despite the many adventures and misadventures they’d already experienced, he couldn’t recall a time when Grace looked helpless.

She’d faced death on several occasions, from his own estate of Havensbrooke, to the desert of Egypt, and then an island off the coast of Venice.

Though he’d seen fear, confusion, or frustration on her face, none of those moments had inspired such a look of lostness as he’d witnessed when she confronted the face of her father’s subterfuge.

And now a letter from Grace’s dead mother? Surely he’d heard incorrectly.

“Your—your mother is alive?”

She frowned. “What?”

“You said the letter was from your mother.” Frederick cleared his throat trying to sort out how to come to terms with a resurrected parent. “Recently?”

“Recently?” Grace’s brow creased as she looked from him back to the paper.

“Oh, no, no …” She shook her head and raised that lovely gaze back to him, tears still resident in those eyes.

“It was written the year she died.” Grace turned the page toward him, noting the date at the top.

“She—she must have composed it when expecting my baby brother. How very strange.” She turned her attention back to him, searching his face. “Do you think she knew?”

It was his turn to frown. “Knew?”

“That she was going to die.” Her frown deepened as she resumed her study of the letter. “I’ve read of people having a sense of foreboding about their impending deaths which led them to making certain decisions. Final letters are at the top of the list.”

Frederick wasn’t keen on continuing a discussion on such a subject—with his wife’s veracious love for reading, she’d read a great many sensible and nonsensical things, all of which had somehow come back to either help them or increase the tension when solving various mysteries.

Instead, he attempted to skim the letter over her shoulder, noting bits and pieces as they stood near the car.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Zahra leaning toward the window, her sober gaze watching him with the slightest pucker of concern on her brow.

He offered her a smile to help douse any anxiety their hesitance may cause the little one, a light squeeze constricting his chest. What sort of past wounds inspired untold fears in that brave little heart of hers?

“She’s—she’s left us some sort of family property in Scotland,” Grace whispered, still reading, and Frederick attempted to follow along. Property in Scotland?

“She knew about Father and was trying to help us.” A sad little laugh purred from his wife, and he placed a palm to her back, leaning closer to read the lines she gestured toward:

Knowing your dear father’s disposition toward rash business decisions, it had been my hope to leave both of you something of substance on which to build a future in the instance finances became uncertain, but since most of my funds went to your father upon marriage, this inheritance along with a small allowance is all I have to give.

It is a lovely estate of my great-grandfather’s, and at the current owner’s death, I am the next lone blood relative left to receive it.

Should something happen to me, as this letter would suggest, the two of you represent me as my coheiresses, so I have left it to both of you.

The difficulty with this arrangement is that you must both be present to sign for the inheritance in Scotland, or else the estate will be available for purchase.

As a long-adored place from my family, I hope you will see the value in it.

If after you have accepted the inheritance, you should find yourselves in financial need, however, you may also sell the estate.

“Isn’t that odd? To claim an inheritance together?” She looked up at Frederick.

“It’s not common, no, but not unheard of.”

She nodded and went back to the letter, reading it aloud:

Barclay, my solicitor and friend, will explain more about the situation.

However, my darling girls, due to the nature of the longstanding agreement with the family, the inheritance must be claimed within three months of the previous owner’s death or it will be forfeit and the property sold.

I hope this small token of my love for you will carry over even if I am unable to be with you and you will know my love through this gift. ’

Grace sighed and ran a finger over the signature at the bottom of the paper. “How beautiful to have something from Mother after all this time. Even the letter feels special.”

Frederick increased the pressure on Grace’s back as an acknowledgement of her words. “Is the other letter from this Mr. Barclay?”

“Yes.”

Grace drew it forward, and Frederick’s attention fell on the date it was sent. “Grace, the letter was posted at the beginning of May.”

“Yes?” She looked up at him, her complacency a clear indicator that she’d not made the same connection as him.

“If you and Lillias must claim the inheritance within three months, from this date it appears the previous owner must have died almost two months ago. Whether by rerouting or difficulty locating you or Lillias, the paper has only now made it into your hands.”

The familiar hue of determination eclipsed the previous hurt in his wife’s eyes. Ah, giving her a problem to solve proved a worthy distraction.

“Then—then we only have a bit more than a month to claim it?” She took the letter back and put it with the other paper, slipping them back into the envelope.

“I don’t fully understand this, Frederick, but I’m grateful for the gift and the heart behind it.

We must do everything in our power to make that date. ”

“I agree, and it shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish if we leave as soon as your sister and her husband are informed.

” He offered her a firm nod. “I suggest we send a message to Mr. Barclay at the Clarion as soon as we reach your sister’s house.

We can notify him of our arrival and then make the subsequent travel plans. ”

“Of course. The sooner the better.” She looked up from the paper. “And perhaps Lillias or Father will shed more light on all this?”

“The only way to know for sure is to ask them.” He opened the car door for her, but she paused, looking up at him.

“The estate is called Mosslea,” she said, as she took her seat beside Zahra. “What sort of estate do you think it could be? And what is Mosslea?”

He’d just returned to the front seat next to the driver, when Grace pushed forward. “Do you think it could be a castle? I’ve read that Scotland is filled with castles.”

He’d never been so happy to see the curious and, at times, terrifying glint return to her sapphire eyes. “I’ve stopped guessing about our future adventures since I’ve been quite literally thrust into one after another since meeting you.” He wiggled his brows to broaden her grin.

He gave the driver Mr. and Mrs. Dixon’s address and turned in time to hear Miss Cox’s quiet voice emerge. “Pardon me, but … what sorts of adventures do you mean?”

“It’s one of the reasons we hired you on, Miss Cox.” Grace answered, bestowing a bright smile. “Your references listed that you were not only excellent at fixing hair, but you were also very good with sutures, bandages, and medicines.”

Grace didn’t clarify, leaving Miss Cox, no doubt, to ponder the possibilities behind such an answer.