So, purgatory does exist.
A rueful grin tugged at his lips. At least Simon had cleared up that eternal mystery for him.
The Untamed Shrew clutched the handle of a long umbrella in her slender hands. A blend of exasperation, criticism, and an emotion that might have actually been fondness danced in her gray-blue eyes.
“Good afternoon, Dr. MacMasters,” she said with a falsely cheerful lilt. Dressed in deep blue from the tip of her hat to the hem of her skirt, the salt-and-pepper-haired matron was tall for a woman, her build as slender as her strained smile.
“Good afternoon,” he replied.
Her pale eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer, inspecting a spot on his lapel. With her free hand, she snatched away a speck of lint he hadn’t noticed against the tweed fabric. “Ah, that’s better.”
Trying not to grit his teeth in irritation, he met her thin smile. “This is a surprise, I must say.”
“I’m sure it is. I have to admit, I did not quite know what to expect when I received Simon’s communiqué.”
“Communiqué?” Harrison parroted.
Ignoring his question, Mrs. Carmichael shifted her attention to Grace, appearing to size her up with a sweep of her pinched gaze.
“Hello, dear. You must be the thief.”
Grace blinked, then blinked again. “My, aren’t you the bold one?” Her voice was warmer than the icy flash in her eyes.
“I’ve always believed in getting the truth out there. No need to be coy.” Mrs. Carmichael toyed with the umbrella. “Please, do not misunderstand me. I have the highest admiration for a talented confidence artist. So many underestimate the skill required to lure in some rich bloke and take what you want, leaving the gullible fool none the wiser.”
“I would not describe my activities in quite that manner.”
“Of course, dear. I’ve been told your operations were far more sophisticated.” Mrs. Carmichael’s admiration sounded sincere. “In any case, I do look forward to our collaboration. It will be a pleasure to observe your technique.”
Grace’s mouth formed a perfect, delectableO. “I must admit to being thoroughly confused.”
The matron turned to Simon. “You did not tell them I was coming?”
“I’d planned to…you are a bit early, after all.”
“Well, I do enjoy the element of surprise,” she said with a wry tone.
“So it would seem,” Simon replied.
“Dear, dear, where are your manners?” she lightly scolded. “I suppose I shall simply have to introduce myself.” She extended a hand to Grace. “Mrs. Margaret Carmichael, senior agent, Highland Antiquities Guild, at your service. I will be your bodyguard.”
