Page 30 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Chapter Nine
Oh, dear Lord. Not him.Grace’s jaw clenched as she spotted the man who held the reins of the sleek brougham carriage set to transport them to Stirling. Of all the drivers in Scotland, why did it have to behim? Instinctively, she put a hand to her chin, prepared to steady her jaw and prevent her teeth from chattering during the ride ahead.
Fergus Royce greeted Grace with a sweep of his hat and an exaggerated bow. “Good morning, my fair lass.” He turned to Mrs. Carmichael. “I hadn’t expected to be drivin’ ye today. Did some sly rascal make off with yer broom?”
The matron scowled at him. “Somewhere, a field is missing its scarecrow.”
“Ah, why don’t you eat a full meal now and then? You could stand to put some meat on that bag of bones.” Fergus grinned, obviously impressed with his own caustic wit.
Mrs. Carmichael turned to Harrison. “I will not ride with this maniac at the reins.”
Harrison’s eyes brightened, seeming to relish the idea of being rid of the agent. With what seemed an effort, he sobered his features. “I assure you, you will survive the experience. I have on more than one occasion.”
“Surely you can arrange for another driver,” she protested.
“That won’t be possible.” Harrison nodded to the driver. “Fergus, it won’t be necessary to attain a high rate of speed. Time is not of the essence in this case.”
“Aye, I hear ye,” the older man said. “Ye know ye can count on me.”
Evidently, Mr. Royce’s interpretation oftime is not of the essencediffered drastically from Harrison’s meaning. For hours, they jostled along at what seemed a breakneck pace. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have suspected the old man had deliberately aimed for every rut he could find.
At her side, Mrs. Carmichael bounced about on the seat as her heels knocked against the floor, each rap seemingly louder than the last as they hit another jarring bump in the road. “Good heavens,” she murmured. “I’m starting to wonder if the old devil went ahead of us and planted rocks in the road.”
“It does rather seem that way, doesn’t it?” Grace agreed.
Harrison sat on the bench across from them, his long legs stretched out at an angle, carefully avoiding their voluminous skirts.
“It won’t be long now,” he said. “We will spend the evening at an inn near Falkirk. I expect you’ll find the accommodations to your liking.”
“Is the inn in the United States?” Grace kept her tone as bland as cold porridge.
“You’ll be back in America soon enough,” he said, his voice as flavorless as her own. “What draws you back to the States? I’d think there’d be just as many jewels to steal on this side of the ocean.”
She pictured her sister’s sweet, rounded face. She’d done everything in her power to ensure Claire never learned of her activities. The girl was an innocent, such a rare thing in Grace’s life. “There are more treasures than you might imagine.”
Mrs. Carmichael’s gaze softened. Had she detected the sadness in Grace’s words? Or had her expression given her away? Grace let out a little sigh. She would have to work on controlling her emotions, especially now. The stakes were too high to give anyone another weapon to use against her.
“After we’re settled at the inn, we’ll clean that horrid dye from your hair. That dull shade is definitely not your best color.” Mrs. Carmichael’s expression was all-business, though Grace suspected she’d intended to change the subject.
“Is the false hue so very obvious?” Grace asked.
Mrs. Carmichael’s thin lips twitched. “Surely you did not think a trained eye would not see through such a weak disguise.”
“I wasn’t concerned withtrained eyes.”
“You never know who is watching,” the matron said, slanting Harrison a glance he did not acknowledge. “In the future, I would suggest you approach a disguise with a bit more restraint. A veil might’ve been more subtle than the dark mop on your head, dear.”
Grace’s jaw dropped, ever so slightly. Across from her, Harrison’s brows quirked. My, the woman was direct, wasn’t she?
“I will keep that in mind.” Grace smoothed out her skirts, as if the small movement might release the nervous tension flowing through her.
Mrs. Carmichael offered a thin smile. “At least on this mission, you’ll have me to guide you.”
Oh, dear. This job was going to be even harder than she’d anticipated.
“Miss Winters is quite good at what she does,” Harrison said without emotion. “If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be here.”
Grace turned to him. “In that case, I do not know whether my competence is a blessing or a curse.”
