Page 49

Lillias arrived before Mr. Kane, and Grace knew immediately something was wrong. Her usually poised and polished sister looked pale, her eyes sunken with fatigue and haunted by something she wasn’t ready to name. A stark contrast to the Lillias of the previous evening, who had dazzled over dinner.

“I’ll take Zahra to keep an eye out for Mr. Kane,” Frederick said, a quick glance at Grace confirming he’d also noticed Lillias’ state. He ushered their daughter toward the window seat, leaving the sisters in a semi-private corner of the drawing room.

Once they’d settled, Grace leaned forward. “What’s wrong? Is it Thomas?”

Lillias blinked rapidly, shaking her head as her breath hitched. “No, Thomas is fine. Miss Cox has proven surprisingly capable once we worked through her difficulties with diapers.”

Grace was pretty certain everyone had an initial discomfort with diapers. “She seems to be a much better fit for you than me.”

Lillias’ gaze flickered to Grace, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I couldn’t have managed without her.” Her shoulders drooped. “But I shouldn’t have taken her from you.”

Something was certainly wrong with her sister! Grace opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, when Lillias leaned closer. “Do I seem like I’m going mad?”

Not the question Grace had been expecting. However, as someone who had occasionally wondered the same about herself, she felt uniquely qualified to respond. She tilted her head, studying her sister. “No. Why would you ask that?”

Lillias pressed a fist to her chest and leaned back, her eyes darting to the floor. “It’s all this talk about the ghost in the castle. It’s gotten into my head.”

There was talk about that.

“And the stress of finding the will.”

“Understandable.” Grace nodded.

“And then, Tony.”

Grace froze, her sister’s hand grabbing hers before she could form a response.

“That’s the problem, Grace. It’s Tony.”

“What do you mean?”

Lillias swallowed again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Yesterday, I thought I saw him. I was walking down the street, and there he was, staring at me from a window. I was sure of it. But when I looked again, he was gone.”

“That could have been anyone,” Grace said, attempting a smile that felt as fake as the assurances coming out of her mouth.

“I thought the same.” She lowered her voice even more and glanced around as if someone was listening.

“But then last night I woke up feeling like I was being watched. When I opened my eyes, Grace, I swear I saw him standing over Thomas’ cradle near the window.

” Her voice cracked. “When I turned on the lantern, he was gone.”

Grace tried her best to keep a steady expression, even as her heart plummeted to her toes. They had to find that will before Tony unraveled everything—or worse, before Kane or his sister grew desperate.

“You’ve been grieving.” Grace covered her sister’s hand. “Perhaps rushing into a connection with another man isn’t the best for your heart right now.”

“I miss him, Grace,” she admitted, her voice quivering. “I don’t want to, but I do. We were both selfish creatures—me more than him—but I can’t hate him for it. I want to. It would be easier. But I can’t. He was a good man.”

The moral dilemma ricocheting through Grace at the moment required Herculean strength to control. And then, as if to prove his idiocy, from behind a nearby curtain peeked the very man of whom they spoke. His gaze held Grace’s, pleading.

She gave her head a sharp shake, which Lillias interpreted as disapproval. “What? You don’t think he was a good man?”

“Of course, I do. He loved you.” Grace struggled to keep her voice even, glaring pointedly at Tony until he finally ducked back behind the curtain. “I wonder, if you could see him right now, what would you say to him?”

Lillias stared, her fingers working nervously in her lap.

“I’d tell him I’m sorry. That I was wrong.

And I’d ask if we could start over.” She pinched her eyes closed, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I’d promise to be better.” She looked back to Grace.

“Frederick was right. I took it all for granted.”

Grace didn’t have time to further the discussion because Frederick and Zahra reentered with Mr. Kane beside them. Mr. Kane’s suit was so fine it practically screamed his wealth, a jarring mismatch for the modest surroundings.

“Are we ready?” he asked, offering his hand to Lillias.

With an idea of where the will might really be, Grace tried to sort out how to sneak upstairs in the castle, locate the right carving with a secret compartment, and keep Tony from putting them all in danger.

Secret compartment?

That’s what they were looking for? Hidden caches in the wooden sculptures scattered throughout Mosslea. Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked between his wife and Zahra, trailing behind Mr. Kane and Lillias on their way to the gatehouse.

To his quiet exasperation, Grace had even enlisted Zahra in the search.

And Zahra brightened at the very idea of such a scavenger hunt. They may not be related by blood, but Grace and Zahra certainly shared a love and stamina for adventure.

And the entire choice to include Zahra could prove a good one, as Kane seemed to completely ignore Zahra’s existence. Oh no, he only had eyes for Lillias, which proved rather unnerving. Lillias seemed markedly less starry-eyed today.

Had the conversation between her and Grace led to such a transformation?

When they reached the gatehouse, Mr. Locke didn’t respond to their knock, but he had left the gate unlocked and open, as if to confirm Grace’s suspicions that he wanted them to have free rein to search the castle.

“I suppose the old man’s hoping we’ll find the will too, dear Mrs. Dixon,” Kane remarked, offering his arm to Lillias with a practiced charm. “He’s not even going to censure our search anymore.”

He swept forward with the confidence of a man accustomed to getting his way. But Frederick felt a prickle of unease.

Something about this was too easy. Too simple.

Perhaps he’d become overly suspicious since being dragged—enticed—into Grace’s sleuthing escapades, but Locke didn’t seem the sort to abandon his post so conveniently.

Frederick touched the spot where his revolver was concealed beneath his coat. Where was Blake? He leaned close to Grace, threading her arm through his. “Keep your guard up,” he murmured near her ear. “Something about this doesn’t sit right.”

He gestured for Zahra to keep to his side.

The search began uneventfully enough, with cobwebs disturbed and long-forgotten sculptures unearthed from rooms that seemed untouched by human hands—or cleaning rags—for decades.

The first hidden compartment of note was discovered in a selkie sculpture in the dining room. Zahra, with admirable discretion, brought an emerald ring to Frederick while Kane and Lillias busied themselves on the far side of the room.

“Where did you find this?” Frederick sent a glance to Kane, keeping his voice low.

Zahra nodded toward the sculpture. “Hidden compartment, as Sayyida said.”

The next prize came from a large kelpie sculpture, where Frederick unearthed a pearl necklace neatly concealed in its stand.

He slipped it into his pocket, his expression neutral.

There was no knowing how many treasures Grace had uncovered, but the glow on her face as they entered each new room was evidence enough that she was thoroughly enjoying the hunt.

Of course, they “looked” in other places, to keep Kane from suspecting anything, but between him and Zahra, they’d already found a ruby with the Blair crest on it, a set of diamond earrings, two jeweled pins, and a ring.

The Blair family treasures.

When they entered the library, Kane froze in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the scene before him. The bookshelves lay toppled, books strewn across the floor like the aftermath of a literary tempest.

To Grace’s credit, she kept her expression from giving anything away. She even managed a pleasant half-smile, though the way Malcolm Kane’s eyes lingered on them suggested he knew they knew.

Frederick didn’t like that look. It had the flavor of a fox watching hens from the shadow of the coop. Had Kane finally reached his limit of patience? Was this the moment he planned to eliminate anyone who could claim the inheritance? And where was Kane’s elusive sister?

“Do you think things like this happen often in old castles?” Lillias ventured, stepping gingerly around the sea of books. She nudged a heavy tome with her toe as if it might bite. “Didn’t we see a fallen portrait in one of the other rooms?”

“Indeed,” Malcolm replied smoothly, though his gaze flicked toward Frederick, a glint of something sharper than politeness in his eye. “Old houses are certainly … unpredictable.”

Suppressing the urge to check his revolver, Frederick gave a curt nod and turned to right one of the suits of armor near the fireplace.

There were four of them, one stationed in each corner of the room.

The one he adjusted, holding a broad sword, wobbled slightly before settling, its empty visor staring out at the mess. At least someone was keeping watch.

“Frederick, look.”

Grace’s voice drew his attention. She stood near the fireplace, her focus on something jutting out from beneath the mantel.

A lever—and one cleverly disguised in the woodwork.

It was almost hidden— would have been hidden —had the bookshelf still stood upright like last night.

She met his gaze with a knowing look, her lips twitching in the barest suggestion of triumph. “Alistair Blair’s favorite room?” she murmured before shrugging and pulling the lever.

A grinding, creaking sound filled the air as the floor near the mantel shifted, splitting open to reveal a narrow doorway. The movement sent a cascade of dust into the air. Frederick coughed. Kane, on the other hand, seemed to lose his composure entirely.

“What?” Kane exclaimed, stepping forward, his voice tight. “How did you—?”