Page 87 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“Finn will accompany ye?”
“I don’t believe so,” Macie said. “Nell often acts as my assistant.”
“I would very much like to join ye.”
“You truly do not need to trouble yourself on my behalf,” Macie said gently.
“It would be no trouble. I’m quite intrigued by this medium. The artistic possibilities are without limit.”
“Indeed,” Macie agreed. “In that case, I’d be delighted if you would accompany us.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Rising, Mrs. Johnstone retrieved her lemon-yellow brolly, pointing out the tiny weights fastened to its ribs. “Just so ye know, I will be prepared.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Mrs. Johnstone, youreally must see the interior of the house,” Macie said as she adjusted her tripod, setting it level on the uneven pavers near the house’s massive front steps. “You’re welcome to explore as much as you’d like.”
“Especially the library.” Nell’s eyes lit with interest. “The scene of the crime.”
“How very dramatic.” Macie frowned for effect. “I don’t find that at all humorous.”
“But unfortunately, it is indeed accurate,” Mrs. Johnstone said.
A hint of a smile tugged at Nell’s mouth. “Once you’ve looked about, you may develop some insight into what occurred.”
“I have some experience in these matters,” Mrs. Johnstone said with a serious air. “I am particularly interested in the volumes Professor Smythson had been searching.”
“I do hope you can find some clue as to what he was seeking.” Macie fiddled with the angle of her camera. With any luck, she’d have precious minutes without interruption once Nell and Mrs. Johnstone immersed themselves in their investigation.
“Give me time, my dear.” Mrs. Johnstone’s flicker of a smile told her she’d read her expression. “Give me time.”
“Come with me.” Nell flashed a little grin. “And do watch for the spirits who roam this place.”
“Ah, a spectral encounter. One can only hope.” Brimming with excitement, Mrs. Johnstone followed Nell inside.
Macie positioned her camera to capture the large stone lions who stood silent guard over the place. Gazing into the lens, a ripple of awareness crept over her nape. She turned to face the unpleasant man who’d claimed an acquaintance with her grandfather.
“Mr. Neville,” she uttered as a terse greeting. “What brings you here today?”
He regarded her for a long moment without speaking. Appearing on edge, he tugged the brim of his hat lower. Odd, given the clouds and lack of glare. “Might we speak privately, Miss Mason?”
She squared her shoulders. “I see no need. My position on your interest in my grandfather’s books and papers has not changed.”
Mr. Neville shook his head. “Miss Mason, this is a matter of dire consequence. It requires... discretion.”
“Discretion, is it?” She cocked a brow. “I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. I have no intention of selling so much as a scrap of old newspaper from my grandfather’s collection.”
“You must hear me out.” He lowered his voice to scarcely more than a whisper. “You must listen. Your grandfather—”
“Please, do not tarnish my grandfather’s memory by bringing him into this conversation.”
“I had to come.” His breath came in sputters. “Andrew would’ve trusted me to help you.”
To help me.Goodness, was the man ill? Or suffering delusions? She detected a faint odor of spirits on his breath. But the drawn expression on Mr. Neville’s face was not the result of too much liquor. The lines of concern seemed all too genuine. As was the fear in his eyes.
She moved closer. “Mr. Neville, you don’t look well.”
“No. Not unwell. But not... not much time.” He bit the words between his teeth. “Your grandfather trusted me... with his research. I must have his papers.”
