Chapter Twenty-Four
Behind the closed door of their room, Grace lowered her voice to a whisper. Given that someone had boldly searched her traveling trunk, uncovering the brooch she’d carefully tucked away in a velvet pouch at the bottom of the case, she was taking no chances.
“At least three women in this house believe in witchcraft. Belle has turned away from the practice, but she remains wary of its power.”
Harrison sat in the wing chair, his elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. She was growing accustomed to seeing him in that position. It seemed familiar. And comfortable.
As she was with him.
The thought touched her heart. Despite her fear, she did not regret this time they’d had together. Their relationship could not endure after the mission’s end. She couldn’t fool herself into believing in a happy-ever-after.
But for now, she’d savor these moments. She’d cherish the small joys and brace herself for the heartache to come.
Mrs. Carmichael joined them, standing by the connecting door, alert for any sign they’d gained an unexpected audience. She’d briefed Harrison on the circumstances leading to her discovery of the silver charms.
Harrison’s brow furrowed. “At this point, there’s no telling who left those things behind. Or their true intent. I put no stock in that hogwash, but evidently, someone in this castle does.”
“If I had to wager, I’d put my money on Miss Fairchild,” Mrs. Carmichael said. “Whoever placed those in our rooms did not have malice in their heart. Those tiny bits of silver are talismans meant to shield one from the forces of black magic.”
“She told me she’s turned away from the occult, but if she’s frightened, she may feel that white witchcraft is a way of protecting us,” Grace added.
“Is she afraid of Raibert?” Mrs. Carmichael asked.
“She did not say that, but I suspect it is the case.”
“Do you believe she wants to leave him?” Harrison asked.
“I would not go that far, but she’s evidently having doubts. When we talked, she was open about her unhappiness with her marriage—surprisingly so.”
“She could be deliberately throwing you off the trail,” he said. “If she suspects something, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“What cause would she have to think I’m here on false pretenses?”
He kneaded his neck, another familiar gesture. “Perhaps because we are.” Rising, he joined her by the window. “I don’t like this…any of it. It seems too convenient. If she’s already spoken her vows, why are guests arriving for a wedding as we speak?”
“I believe the wedding is intended to cement their status as husband and wife in the eyes of society,” Mrs. Carmichael said.
“Given what she told me, I suspect she longed for a wedding, for the romance of the event. It’s a dream many young girls harbor.”
Unlike herself. Grace had never entertained fantasies of elaborate nuptials or handsome grooms. Truth be told, she’d never envisioned a wedding at all.
Mrs. Carmichael frowned. “That does not tell us if she was involved in her father’s death.”
“After spending time with the woman over the last few days and being taken into her confidence, I’m convinced Belle Fairchild played no part in her father’s death,” Grace said.
“But how can you be sure?” Mrs. Carmichael asked.
“Instinct, I suppose. I feel it in my bones.”
Harrison studied her, questions clear in his gaze. “At this point, there’s no evidence to confirm guilt or innocence. The only thing we have to go on is the feeling in our guts.”
“We must remain vigilant.” Mrs. Carmichael toyed with the ribbons trimming the cuffs of her blouse. “That young woman may be in grave danger.”
“The fact that she is legally wed to Raibert does not protect her. If anything, it compounds the danger,” Harrison said. “If Raibert was behind her father’s death, he’s already killed to get to that fortune. If she does not cooperate with his schemes, he has no incentive to keep her alive.”
“Her father established a trust,” Grace said. “She will not inherit his entire fortune. And the portion Belle is slated to receive is off-limits until she reaches her twenty-fifth birthday.”
“And if she dies before that?” Mrs. Carmichael was direct.
