Page 14 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Chapter Four
“Have you lost your damned mind?” Harrison marched up to his brother and stood nose to nose with him.Partner.God above, had Simon suffered a blow to the head that rendered him incapable of rational thought?
Whatever his brother had in mind, Harrison would have no part in it. He’d done what he’d set out to do. Gracie Mae Winters was sitting before their very eyes. How they chose to ensure she faced justice was their decision, not his.
“I realize this is a bit sudden, but it cannot be helped,” Simon replied blandly. “In recent days, a situation has arisen—circumstances I had not anticipated that may work in our favor.”
“Blast it, Simon, this is unacceptable. You should have told me about this before I left Inverness. I will return home at first light.”
“It’s not like you to act so rashly. I’d expected you to at least hear us out.”
“I understand now why you did not brief me on your strategy before you summoned me to Edinburgh—you knew you’d be wasting my time.”
“The options in this situation are quite limited. The plan will work.”
“A plan that employs an untrained woman as an agent?”
“Whatever your strategy is, I assure you it willnotwork,” Grace spoke up. She glared at Jones. “I have no intention of agreeing to any furthertasksyou might devise. We had an agreement. I have a document—signed by the attorney general, no less—that promises a pardon in exchange for my recovery of whatever it is that O’Hanlon hid in that book.”
A pardon.So that was what had brought her back to Scotland. She’d gotten in over her head in America, and now, they were using her crimes as leverage. Brilliant, in a sense. And yet, utterly reprehensible.
Jones frowned. “Unfortunately, you seem to have missed one key detail in the agreement. Legal documents can be confusing to the layman. The terms of your service related to the New York incident were open-ended. As it stands now, your services are still required.”
“No,” she murmured, looking as though she’d been struck by a meteor fallen from the sky. “You lied to me.”
“‘Lied’ is a rather harsh word, wouldn’t you say?” Jones replied coolly. “Of course, you would know all about lies now, wouldn’t you,Miss Winterborne.”
Emotion flashed in her dark eyes. Was that anger? Or shame?
Hiking her chin, she faced him defiantly. “I’ve had enough. Nothing you say will convince me to put my neck on the line again. Please tell me where I might find Mrs. McTavish.” She dug her fingers into the folds of her skirt, hiking the fabric to her ankles as she whirled toward the door. “We have a ship to board, and we willnotmiss its departure. The sooner we are away from this place—from this continent—the better.”
Simon folded his arms across his chest, a sure sign he was about to do something he found personally distasteful. He cleared his throat for dramatic effect. What the devil was he up to?
“Miss Winters, before you go—there is another matter that must be addressed.”
She stilled. Slowly, she turned to face him. The grim set of her mouth betrayed her apprehension. “Another matter? What are you—”
“There has been an incident…involving your aunt.”
Grace’s complexion blanched, pale as a freshly bleached handkerchief. “Dear Lord…has she been injured?”
Simon shook his head. “Nothing of that nature. But an issue has arisen, a rather significant complication.”
Grace’s plump lips thinned to a razor’s edge. She appeared to pull in a breath as Simon’s statement plowed into her.
“I was told she would be transported here. Please tell me where she is, and we will be on our way. You may rest assured that we will never again present any complications to you.”
“If only it were that simple, Miss Winters,” Jones said.
Angry disbelief flared in her eyes. “You cannot force me to stay.”
“If you return to America now, you will face the consequences.” Like a gloating poker player, Jones paused for effect, then revealed his winning hand. “And your aunt will not be free to return with you. The Scottish authorities will not release her if she is charged with a crime.”
Grace’s complexion paled. “What nonsense is this? I insist you take me to her. She’s honored our agreement.”
“That is not how I would describe her behavior.” Simon opened the office door and signaled to his assistant. Benjamin Bradshaw was young, an accomplished scholar only a year out of university, but fiercely intelligent and dedicated to the mission of the Antiquities Guild. “I will allow your aunt to explain. Bradshaw, please show Mrs. McTavish in.”
The young man escorted the elegantly attired matron into the office and led her to a comfortable wing chair. With her henna-tinted hair swept into an elegant coiffure, large blue eyes, and a finely lined porcelain complexion, Thelma McTavish had retained her beauty in her maturity. Though taller and more willowy than Grace, her resemblance to her niece was unmistakable. Were all the women in their family as beautiful as these two?
