Page 27 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Chapter Eight
“My bodyguard?”
Grace had not intended to utter the question aloud, but the words seemed to pop out on their own. My goodness, this woman looked as if she’d be blown away in a brisk wind. Why on earth would anyone appoint a reed-thin matron who was old enough to be Grace’s mother to provide security?
And why did she needanotherbodyguard? Wouldn’t Harrison’s protection suffice? Something peculiar was going on here, and she would get to the bottom of it before she went along with this scheme.
Mrs. Carmichael formed her features into a serene mask. She was likely telling the truth about being an agent. She’d quickly shifted her expression to reveal little emotion.
“I will be traveling with the two of you. While we are on this mission, I shall assume the role of your social secretary.”
“I have no idea what use one even has for a social secretary,” Grace admitted. “Won’t others notice the change? After all, I’ve never employed one in the past.”
“Pishposh,” Mrs. Carmichael said. “Do not trouble yourself over insignificant details. Focus on the job at hand, and I will provide an extra pair of eyes to watch over the both of you.”
“It’s quite a brilliant idea, actually,” Simon said. “Mrs. Carmichael deserves the credit. Jones and I were discussing the obvious dilemma posed by this plan—Miss Winters deserves to be treated as a lady even as she undertakes this assignment, but the masquerade as husband and wife demands the appearance of shared quarters—when I decided to seek out a woman’s advice. As usual, Mrs. Carmichael devised a viable solution. Her presence creates a need for a second room—a room she will share with you, Miss Winters.”
Grace considered the proposition. Perhaps, she might work this to her advantage. “While I do appreciate your concern for me, I believe my aunt would be a more logical choice to accompany us. Aunt Thelma made many a dear friendship while we traveled together.”
Dropping the reserve he wore like a mask, Simon MacMasters stared at her with a look of sheer incredulity while the others shook their heads in unison.
“That’s…that’s not going to work. Mrs. McTavish is certainly notunknownin Scotland. She leaves an indelible mark wherever she goes.” Mr. Jones tapped the vest pocket of his jacket. “As a matter of fact, I do believe the old girl helped herself to my watch. She’s quick, and she’s good—I’ll give her that.”
With what appeared to be a Herculean effort, Simon banished the astonishment from his face. “While your aunt does possess a certain charm, it’s more likely than not that someone she’s pilfered from will notice her and put two and two together. In addition, we cannot count on her to restrain her larcenous impulses. Her conduct with Count Alphonso last night is proof of that. We can’t take the chance.”
Leaning casually against the sideboard, Harrison kept his thoughts to himself. The taut set of his jaw suggested he might actually prefer Aunt Thelma’s presence to that of the wiry matron.
“You’ve no need for concern, dear. We’ll have a grand time.” Mrs. Carmichael dangled the umbrella from her hand, softly swinging it back and forth like a pendulum. “Mr. Jones, may I conduct a demonstration?”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Jones replied, his tone dry as a desert.
“You would like it a lot less if I were not merely making a point.” She slanted Grace a glance. “Dear, does your aunt know how to do this?”
With a sudden lunge, she pressed the tip of the umbrella to the underside of Mr. Jones’s jaw, directly below his earlobe. Instinctively, he grasped his hands around the improvised weapon, but she merely smiled and nudged the steel nub into his skin.
Grace bit back a gasp. Though the agent had offered a warning, her display of skill was jarring nonetheless.
“If I had reason to bethoroughlyunpleasant, I could kill a man with this umbrella,” Mrs. Carmichael said coolly.
Jones’s eyes had hardened, dark as ebony. “You can take that damned thing away from me now.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Carmichael said with a hint of cheek as she pulled back her weapon. “I won’t go into the more upsetting details of what one could do with this tool, but suffice it to say, it’s quite lethal under the right circumstances.”
Grace watched as he rubbed the reddened spot on his throat. “I can well imagine.”
“I do apologize if I was a trifle overzealous, Mr. Jones. You may have a bruise,” the woman said.
“I’ll live.” Jones continued to rub his neck. “I damn well wouldn’t want to tangle with her.”
Simon turned to his brother. “You haven’t said anything. What are your thoughts?”
Harrison kept his features unreadable. “She’ll do.”
Mrs. Carmichael flashed him a wry smile. “Isoappreciate your abundance of confidence.”
Grace mulled the situation. Thiscouldwork. Mrs. Carmichael would serve as a buffer between Harrison and herself. She’d rather share a room with Lady MacBeth than face Harrison’s cool contempt at all hours of the day and night. The matron would be a far more pleasant companion.
“Well, I for one was most impressed by your defensive prowess. I stand thoroughly convinced of your abilities, Mrs. Carmichael,” she said.
