“I understand some of the dangers you’ve faced—you and your brother put your lives at risk to save dear Evie and the bride-to-be at Houghton Manor.”
“The official line on that incident was that Lady Evelyn had been targeted after she witnessed an attempt at murder. As far as local authorities are concerned, the Guild had no involvement in that case.”
“Of course,” she said. Harrison had been quite dashing and courageous in the face of danger. “But we know different, don’t we?”
His expression grew somber. “Officially, no.”
“But unofficially?” She flashed a little smile.
“Unofficially, you need to keep all of this to yourself. I’ve already said too much.”
Drat, he’d resumed his oh-so-solemn, very serious demeanor. “Point taken,” she said softly. Lacing her fingers together, she held his gaze. “So, tell me, Dr. MacMasters, what is the Guild’s interest in this case? I don’t imagine such an organization is concerned with the death of a man across the Atlantic. Do you have reason to believe Miss Fairchild has taken possession of goods stolen from the Highlands?”
He shook his head. Quickly. Too quickly. What was he hiding?
What does it matter?She knew darned well he hadn’t come here to play bodyguard to a thief like her. He had his own reasons for being here.
And so did she. Staying focused on her purpose was for the best.
“Mr. Raibert’s activities are of far more interest to the Guild than Miss Fairchild’s…at least, at this point.”
As he spoke, a flash of honey-blond hair caught her eye. She straightened in her seat and looked past him, confirming her suspicion.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Not at all. It seems I was right after all.”
“She’s here?”
“Yes.”
Harrison made no move to turn. “You’re certain?”
Grace fixed her attention on the willowy woman who’d entered the Devinshire flanked by a pair of women. One of the ladies, even taller and slimmer than the New York heiress, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a sleek coiffure, appeared to survey the dining room with a sharp-eyed gaze. Dressed in a striking ensemble in deep green with black velvet trim that emphasized the darkness of her hair and drew an onlooker’s eye, the woman appeared to be considerably older than Belle. The intensity in her expression seemed out of place in the vibrant eatery where people came to see and be seen as much as they sought out the chef’s cuisine.
On the other side of the heiress, a younger woman, petite and a bit plump, strolled along in a pale blue ensemble that complemented her porcelain complexion. Her hair was as dark as Belle’s was fair, pulled into a tight bun topped with a black velvet hat decked out with a variety of vivid plumes. Somewhere, a peacock was bemoaning the loss of its feathers. A pair of corkscrew curls framed her pretty, rounded face.
Unlike her companions, Belle Fairchild had chosen a modest ensemble that seemed designed to ensure she did not stand out in a crowd. Her dove-gray walking suit trimmed with black lace about the collar and cuffs was lovely, but lacked a look of extravagance. She’d worn her yellow-gold curls in a softly upswept style, with a hat perched on her head that was simple in its beauty, a velvety shade of dark charcoal with a bit of netting for effect. As she entered, she nibbled her lower lip. She seemed apprehensive. But why?
“Absolutely,” Grace said. “That’s her.”
As she spoke, the heiress’s attention flickered to her direction. Her eyes widened in recognition as her mouth went round with surprise. Happiness lit her expression, and she paused. Turning to her companions, she said a few words, then bustled over to Grace as the women continued on their way to a table.
“Good heavens, it’s you—Grace Winterborne,” Belle said with a broad smile.
Winterborne.Once again, she’d have to adopt the alias. At least it wasn’t too far removed from her real name.
“My, Belle, this is an unexpected pleasure.” Grace rose, clasping the heiress’s hands in her own. “I’d no idea you were in Scotland.”
Amazing, how easily the lie flowed from her lips. She was a far better actress than Aunt Thelma had credited her. She surprised even herself.
“I had to get away from New York, if only for a while. I presume you heard about Father’s death.” Belle wrung her hands together. “I still…I still cannot speak of it.”
“Oh, dear, Belle, I did see the news in the papers. I’m so very sorry,” she said with sincerity.
“Thank you, my dear friend.” A light sheen glimmered in the heiress’s eyes. “One never knows what lies around the corner.”
“It’s good that you’ve come to the Highlands. I trust you’ll immerse yourself in the beauty of the land. I can think of no better tonic.”
