Page 94 of Tempting the Highland Spy
“I do not know the particulars. But I suspect the funds in the trust are not to be distributed to an heir in the event that something happens to her. Raibert has an incentive to keep her alive—at least, until September.”
Dressed in a simple yet elegant ensemble of burgundy silk, Grace entered the dining hall on Harrison’s arm. Mrs. Carmichael followed close behind, attired in an elegant gown that brought out the color of her blue eyes.
As they proceeded to their seats at the table, Grace noticed a pair of newcomers. She immediately recognized one of the men. The striking, golden-haired Adonis conveniently seated across from Lady Edythe was the actor, Jason Thornquist. Grace had watched him perform on the New York stage on numerous occasions. This close, she realized his photographs did not do him justice.
A distinguished older man who appeared to be in his sixth decade of life sat to the left of Lady Edythe. With hair the color of a silver piece, striking dark eyes, and an elegant charcoal-gray suit with silver waistcoat, he was indeed a handsome specimen.
As dinner commenced, Raibert went about the introductions. Rodney McGinty, the silver-haired gentleman, was an actor, an acquaintance from their days on the Glasgow stage.
As Grace might have predicted, Lady Edythe fawned over Thornquist. Given her starry-eyed regard of the man, Grace would not have been surprised if the woman had not taken the time to mix up a love potion of her own.
All in all, the conversation flowed easily throughout the meal, surprisingly pleasant. Belle appeared far more at ease than she had earlier that day, while Raibert played the enthusiastic host as efficient servers offered the guests culinary delights including a rich turtle soup and roasted duck with orange sauce.
The dessert course had been served when Lady Sybil made her announcement.
“I do hate to cast a pall over this evening, but I am finding it increasingly difficult to hold my tongue. I simply cannot abide pretending civility with a thief.”
As she spoke, her eyes speared Grace. Swallowing against the sudden cotton in her throat, Grace placed her spoon beside the compote dish.
“A thief?” Belle said, the question sounding like a little gasp. “What nonsense is this?”
Lady Sybil heaved a dramatic sigh. “If only it were nonsense, dear. I’m afraid you’ve been deceived—we all have.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Raibert demanded as a hush fell over the table.
“Allow me to be direct,” Lady Sybil said. “As you know, I suffered a theft. A brooch that had been in my family for a very long time disappeared last night.”
Belle’s brow furrowed. “I understand you recovered the brooch.”
Lady Sybil nodded. “Indeed, I have. It appears that the thief concealed—or perhaps discarded—the piece within the library. I suspect the culprit was aware they’d been spotted near my room and decided to hide the jewelry and return for it later, after the attention had dimmed.”
Belle frowned. “While I am delighted that you’ve recovered your treasured brooch, I do not appreciate the way you’ve chosen to disrupt what had been a delightful evening with a baseless accusation.”
“Baseless?” Lady Sybil scoffed. “I think not. I suspect you know who the culprit is and you are protecting her.”
“Good heavens,” Belle said as Grace’s pulse sped ever so slightly. “You do not have to make a scene. This matter should be handled in private.”
“I’ve no need to be discreet,” Lady Sybil said. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot say the same for one of your guests.”
“Lady Sybil, this is uncalled for,” Raibert spoke up. “Where are your manners?”
“Perhaps they have also been pilfered.” She gave a haughty sniff. “And to think my niece and I welcomed this woman as one of our own.”
“Good God,” Raibert said. “What are you saying?”
“It’s quite simple. You have a thief among your guests.”
Lady Sybil pinned Grace with her gaze. Dear God, no—she couldn’t possibly suspect her. She’d taken nothing since she entered this place, much less the woman’s monstrosity of a brooch. But that wouldn’t matter. It was her word against Lady Sybil’s baseless accusation.
The world began to tilt beneath her. Pulling in a long breath, Grace pressed her palms to the table to brace herself for what seemed inevitable.
The color blanched from Belle’s face. “Lady Sybil, that is a horrible allegation. Please, do not cast a pall over our wedding festivities.”
“Aunt Sybil, please—this is no place for such unpleasantness.” Lady Edythe twisted her napkin in her fingers.
“I am sorry. Truly, I am. You know how I treasure my friendship with the Raiberts. But in good conscience, I cannot allow this to pass. You have unwittingly invited a known thief to these premises. And her name is Grace MacMasters.”
…
