Page 85 of Tempting the Highland Spy
“Only a wee bit of information,” Grace replied truthfully. “What happened?”
“I am heartsick,” Lady Sybil said. “That brooch has been in my family for centuries. The jewels are priceless, but the sentiment that piece embodies is what I treasure most. It’s irreplaceable.”
“Is it possible you’ve hidden it in a secret compartment or something of the sort?” Grace asked.
“I’ve looked…everywhere.” Lady Sybil tipped the cup to her lips. “If it was in my chamber, I would have located it.”
“Perhaps it was lost in the journey,” Grace said.
Lady Sybil considered her words. “That is indeed possible. Though unlikely. I’m convinced I had it yesterday. And now, it’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said, her heart sinking. If they discovered her background, they would assume she was the culprit. She’d sensed the accusation in Mrs. Carmichael’s tone this morning.
“We have other guests arriving tonight,” Belle spoke up, seeming eager to shift to a more pleasant topic. “An old friend of Donnal’s has just arrived. Mr. Thornquist recently performed on the New York stage.”
At the mention of New York,Lady Sybil appeared mildly repulsed. “Tell me, dear—how many arrivals from Americaareyou expecting?”
“Just this one. Mr. Thornquist is a Shakespearean thespian of the highest caliber. He’s very witty. You will enjoy his company.”
With that, Lady Sybil’s mouth thinned to a razor’s edge. “Of course.”
“I understand he’s quite the handsome one,” Lady Edythe said. “I do hope he’s not married.”
Belle smiled. “I don’t believe he is.”
“I shall definitely have to dress for dinner.” Lady Edythe’s eyes gleamed at the prospect.
“Definitely,” Lady Sybil agreed. Turning her attention to Grace, her eyes narrowed. “What is it with our men? They seem to be drawn to Americans like a bee to a hive. At this rate, all of our fine Scots will be wed to American lasses before long.”
Belle gave a nervous little laugh. “I can’t say I’ve given it any thought.”
“I cannot imagine there is a shortage of rugged Highlanders,” Grace said with a little shrug. “I’ve certainly seen an abundance of good-looking men since I arrived in Scotland.”
“I do wish one would wander my way,” Lady Edythe said with a little sigh for effect.
“So, tell me, Mrs. MacMasters,” Lady Sybil’s lips thinned. “When did you and Dr. MacMasters wed? I’m shocked that word of your nuptials did not reach me. The MacMasters are a prominent family in the Highlands. The family made its fortune in whisky, or so I’m told.”
“Our wedding was a simple affair. We plan to have a second ceremony upon our arrival at my husband’s home.”
The lie flowed easily, utterly plausible and not too overdone. Still, Lady Sybil eyed her as if she’d detected the falseness of her words.
“I don’t recall ever hearing of you, aside from your attendance at some rather unimportant weddings.”
Grace hiked a brow. “The weddings were hardly unimportant to those who said their vows.”
“Quite so,” Lady Sybil agreed quickly. “I misspoke.”
Belle set her cup on the tray and moved to the window, sweeping the curtains aside. Turning back to them, she looked as if she wished for nothing more than to change the subject. “It is a lovely day, ladies. Shall we tour the garden?”
“That would be wonderful,” Grace said, thankful for an opportunity to focus on something—anything, really—other than Lady Sybil’s dour expression.
“You should bring your pencils,” Belle suggested. “You’ll find an abundance of flora and fauna to sketch.”
“A wonderful idea!”
Grace hurried back to her room, nearly bumping into Mrs. Carmichael in the process. The older woman regarded her with good humor, even as concern filled her eyes. “You really do need to be careful, dear.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, gathering her pad and pencils. “I’m afraid I’m not well named. Grace is not my strong suit.”
