Page 44

“Why didn’t you tell me you was Elspeth Blair’s daughter?” Mrs. MacIntosh announced the moment Grace and her party stepped into the inn. They had just returned from a walk on the outskirts of the village so Blake could, as he’d put it, “gather information about the lay of the land.”

Grace wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but since Blake said everything with such confidence, she had decided it must be a very smart choice.

“I didn’t think it would be important,” Grace replied with a polite smile. She sent a glance around the dining area, now bustling with villagers. The place had been empty when they’d first arrived, but it seemed Mrs. MacIntosh’s proclamation was drawing quite the crowd.

“You’re a Blair! That’s always important in Angloss. Has been for centuries. We thought the Blair line ended with Laird Alastair, but here ye are.” She gestured toward Grace as though presenting a long-lost heirloom.

“And her sister’s here too,” came a voice from among the patrons.

Grace spun toward the crowd, locating the author of the voice. As soon as her eyes met his, she knew. She was staring into the face of Fake Officer Clark, otherwise known as Mr. Malcolm Kane.

Following his subtle gesture, her gaze landed on Lillias, seated beside him at the table.

Frederick stepped to Grace’s side, Blake a step behind him. Zahra had been sent up to their room, and thankfully, Tony had remained behind from their walk, likely to avoid the temptation of confronting Lillias if he’d seen her.

Praise God for small favors.

The crowd returned to their conversations as Grace reached the table and got a clearer view of Mr. Malcolm Kane. Why did dastardly men have to be handsome? She knew meanness didn’t change ones looks, but it ought to give fair warning to the unsuspecting public at large.

“Grace.” Lillias gestured toward the others. “Lord Astley.”

Her attention hinged on Blake, clearly trying to recall his name. “Mr.—Mr. Blake, is it?”

“Mrs. Dixon.” He gave a subtle dip to his head, his eyes remaining as sharp as her husband’s. Of course, that was the only giveaway to their otherwise affable appearance, but Grace assumed that’s because she knew both of them so well.

“It’s good to see you’re safe and sound, Mrs. Dixon.” Frederick gave Lillias a meaningful look that Grace hoped Lillias actually felt. Her choice to jaunt off from Harrington had made everything more difficult for the rest of them and possibly more dangerous for herself.

“Please, join us,” Lillias said, motioning toward Mr. Kane, who rose with infuriating grace. “May I introduce Mr. Malcolm Kane, an associate of my dear Tony’s.”

Grace froze, her composure slipping entirely.

“It’s no wonder you’re surprised, my lady,” Kane said smoothly. “What would a Scot be doing for business in Virginia?”

“It is … a curiosity,” Grace managed to say, pinching the napkin in her lap to keep herself grounded. The Scottish accent shouldn’t be paired with such a sneaky man. It just seemed wrong. A disgrace to all the sweet Scottish men like Mr. Barclay and Mr. Locke.

“Mrs. Dixon may have exaggerated a touch, referring to me as an associate,” Kane continued, sending Lillias a warm look that made her blush furiously. Oh goodness! Her sister was a much easier victim than Grace had thought possible. Charmed by a murderer!

And then Grace realized that, for the first time in this entire case, she and Frederick were seeing Mr. Kane up close. This was the man who had stabbed Tony, wounded Mr. Barclay, and cavorted with Mrs. James to wound poor Mrs. Lindsay.

Scoundrel.

Grace raised the napkin to cover her sneer even though she’d not been served anything to drink or eat just yet.

Gratefully, Mr. Kane continued without any apparent notice of her dislike of him.

“I have a house here in Angloss, though I travel frequently for business.” His grin creased at the corners of his eyes in a very un-scoundrel-like way.

“My business tends to take me all over the world, but I usually work out of Edinburgh. However, Mrs. Dixon’s late husband was an acquaintance of mine through the bank as I interacted with him on several international transactions.

I’m currently assessing property in this part of Scotland for a few clients, and when I unexpectedly met Mrs. Dixon aboard ship and heard of her tragic loss, how could I not offer to escort her to the very place I call home.

” He glanced at Lillias, his expression softening. “It was the least I could do.”

“How generous of you.” Frederick’s calm behavior spilled added calm through her.

Grace unclenched her fingers from the napkin she’d been wringing to shreds and took a deep breath.

“And fortuitous!” Blake chimed in, signaling to the server with a flick of his wrist, as though they were all merely discussing the weather. “Travel in Scotland is notoriously treacherous. Imagine a bereaved American widow navigating alone. Heroic of you, Kane. Positively heroic.”

The ease with which Blake disarmed the table was nothing short of miraculous. Even Kane seemed charmed, raising his glass in a toast. “To chivalry, aye?”

Truly, how Frederick and Blake managed to ooze such charm while navigating lies, half-truths, and thinly veiled threats mesmerized her. Perhaps she ought to study their technique. Charm could be a useful weapon for a detective, after all.

She summoned a polite smile. “How fortunate we are to have such gallant company. Still, you must have business to attend to, Mr. Kane.”

“Actually, I plan to stay a few more days,” Kane said lightly. “The country air agrees with me. Besides, I’ve offered my assistance in sorting out the matter of the missing will.”

All her life, Grace had always thought she was the snitch of the family! But offer her sister a charming man with a mesmerizing accent, and she was ready to forget all about the danger surrounding Tony’s death—er … almost death—and Mr. Barclay’s attack.

But Grace couldn’t show her concern. Lillias’ safety relied on Grace’s composure, so she decided to win at the man’s game. Or at least try.

And keep drumming up her own charm … hopefully.

Blake and Frederick proved excellent models.

“You must be the perfect person for such an assignment,” she said sweetly, glancing at Frederick for reinforcement.

The flicker of shock in his eyes might have distracted her if Blake’s amused grin hadn’t fueled her further.

“Especially as someone with ties to the community. We’re strangers here and quite at a loss as to where to look. ”

As if by magic, Kane’s smile widened. Grace straightened in her chair, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. What had Blake said about Kane’s weakness? Arrogance? And what hero didn’t appreciate a damsel in distress?

Her grin stretched farther. Yes, she could play that role—keep Kane distracted and hopefully ignorant of the fact she didn’t like the man.

“I’m more than happy to help,” Kane said smoothly. “In fact, my sister was married to the previous laird, so I’m well acquainted with the castle.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Frederick offered, his tone impeccably sincere. “This must all be very difficult for you.”

“Which makes him all the more understanding of my position,” Lillias interjected, her gaze softening as it settled on Kane. “He knows what it’s like to lose someone and is determined to help me secure my future.”

Grace’s stomach twisted. Her sister actually believed this man was a hero. Romantically, even.

It was either a testament to Lillias’ desperation or Kane’s acting skills—or perhaps the incredible power of a Scottish brogue. Grace wasn’t certain which one, but she didn’t feel any draw toward Mr. Kane romantically at all, so his Scottish persona couldn’t be the complete reason.

“It’s rather late for a search today,” Kane continued, “but I’d be happy to escort you to the castle tomorrow. I have business in the morning but could meet you here around four.”

Blake exchanged a quick glance with Frederick and Grace before answering for the group. “Indeed. Four it is.”

Kane stood. “Well, I must be off, but I look forward to seeing you then.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kane.” Lillias said, her smile too bright. “For everything.”

Mr. Kane doffed an invisible hat and excused himself.

As soon as Kane was out of earshot, Grace turned to her sister, trying to desperately keep up her charm offensive, even with Lillias. “It seems you’ve gained a friend in Mr. Kane quite quickly.”

“You can’t understand how perfect he’s been,” Lillias replied, lifting her glass. “When I met him aboard the ship, I was utterly lost. He arranged everything—travel, lodging, everything. It was as if he’d been sent just for me.”

Sending himself, rather. Grace quelled a frown. “Of course, but to confide in him about the will?”

Lillias stiffened, her chin lifting. “Trust doesn’t take years, Grace. Sometimes you just know when someone has good intentions.”

“And incredibly convenient timing,” Blake interjected smoothly, his words laced with irony. “An acquaintance of your late husband on a transatlantic voyage, of all things, ready to swoop in at just the right moment. Remarkable coincidence.”

“It’s no coincidence,” Lillias snapped, her eyes flashing. “It’s fate. Heaven knows I needed help, and Mr. Kane stepped in when no one else would.”

Frederick cleared his throat, leaning forward with a calm that offset Lillias’ rising defensiveness. “Fate often wears a convincing mask.”

Her eyes flashed as she looked between them. “You think I’m being naive. That I can’t tell when someone’s genuinely trying to help.”

“Not at all.” Grace took her sister’s hand. “It’s just that there are clearly some dangerous people invested in learning about this inheritance, and it’s wise to be careful.”

“I think I’ll retire for the evening.” Lillias stood abruptly, her movements stiff. “I need to get back to Thomas, and I’m certain Miss Cox would like some reprieve. Thank you all for your … concern.”