“Great start, Simon,” he mumbled while she stalked out of the room. Why had she given him so much attitude? Mr. Gray had been desperate to find help for her, but she didn’t want Simon anywhere near this golden treasure. Too bad. He had a job to do. No matter how difficult she planned to be, he intended to follow through.
Maybe another approach would work. He jogged out of the room to catch up with her. “Miss, wait.”
At the foot of the stairs, she turned back to him, her gaze cold steel. Beautiful dark hair drifted over her shoulders. The pretty, frilly, flower-patterned dress hugged her upper body, flowing around her thighs. Yet she still looked ready to spit fire.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry you didn’t know I was coming, but don’t you think you should be angry with your uncle?”
As each second ticked by, her shoulders relaxed. “You’re right. I’m sorry I snapped. I’ve had a difficult couple of days, which have left me short-tempered.”
“Would the troubling times be the cause of the bruise?” He pointed to her eye.
She touched the skin near her temple. “I had a run in with a tree limb.”
“Who won?” A grin tugged the corner of his mouth.
Her chin shot up. “I did, of course.”
Right. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t be so much trouble. “You need some time to adjust to the idea of having a partner. I need a nap after those flights. Why don’t we share our information in the bar before dinner?”
For several more seconds, she studied him as though trying to decipher a hidden agenda.
With his limbs growing even wearier, he held his hands out to his sides. “I promise my objective is to help, nothing more.”
One of her feet tapped against the step. Planting her free hand on the railing, she drummed her fingers against it. “All right. I suppose two heads are better than one. Let’s meet in the bar about six, and we can go to dinner when we’re done.”
She strutted up the stairs, her ass swaying side to side in the dress. By no means was he too exhausted to recognize a beautiful woman. Maybe she’d warm up to him when he was rested enough and turned on the charm. His brothers might have the outgoing, sometimes obnoxious personalities, but he had always been the one able to coax most people into his line of thinking.
At six-thirty, he glanced at his watch then finished his beer. She hadn’t met him as they’d agreed. Grinding his teeth, he admitted he’d had too much hope in her quick turnaround. Any time his brothers behaved in the same way, it always ended badly for him. He should’ve known.
After setting the bottle on the bar, he opened his file with Mr. Gray’s notes. His eyes still threatened to close on him even after his four-hour nap. The trip across the Atlantic had taken more out of him than he’d expected. A yawn fought through his mouth.
A blur of a woman flashed in the corner of his eye. “I’m here.”
Grace had replaced the very feminine dress from the afternoon with a pair of hip-hugging jeans along with a green T-shirt with some kind of logo on it.
As she slid onto the stool next to him, some flowery scent joined her. He inched closer. What was that scent? She plopped a few folders and a laptop onto the bar. “I’m sorry for being late.” She fingered her shirtsleeve. “I fell asleep, too.”
“Not a problem.”
With a wave of her hand, she gained the attention of the bartender. “Glenfiddich, please.”
“A lass who knows her scotch.” The middle-aged Scotsman broke into a smile. “You’ll have it straightaway.”
“I’ll have one of those, too, please.” Hell, he was in Scotland. Why not?
The bartender tapped the edge of the bar twice. “Two, it is.”
A wave of tension rolled off her while she sifted through the information in one folder. With her gaze glued to the papers, she tugged a strand of her hair away from her mouth. “I might not like working with another person, but I figured it could be helpful. If my uncle insists you be here, then I have no choice. Besides, fighting with you won’t get me to the treasure any faster.” She pulled out a single sheet of paper then lifted her gaze to him. “So, let’s share.”
He stared at her for several seconds. Something fit too comfortably up her sleeve. He’d stake his dinner on it. But he didn’t know her well enough to figure out what she had planned.
“Since you’ve been hunting for the treasure longer, why don’t you tell me where you are?”
The bartender set their glasses in front of them. Grace grabbed her toxic drink then took a sip. Her unwanted partner looked much better after he’d had a few hours of sleep. The dark rims of his glasses accentuated his sea-blue eyes—not the deep waters of the loch, but the light blue of a tropical beach. From his fresh, clean scent, he’d taken a shower. He’d changed shirts, too.
Forget it. His appearance didn’t affect her investigation. Uncle Thomas had forced him upon her. The man could never be a candidate for a night on the town. “How much did Uncle tell you?”
“He told me how the Douglas clan took the box, then the Grays searched for it for years. They thought it might be up north of here. He also said you’d been having a hell of a time pinpointing the exact location of the treasure.”
Had Uncle Thomas told him she was incompetent? “I’ve got it narrowed down to a handful of possible locations, but they’re scattered from Loch Ness to Aviemore, from Inverness to Ullapool. I don’t want to head out from here without at least an idea of my next step.” When he shifted toward her with his notes, his elbow bumped hers.
He focused on the details on the one page of information expected to solve the mystery of the clan’s missing treasure. She had files filled with notes, even more than the three manila folders she’d brought downstairs with her. Yet Uncle expected this guy to save the day. The thought tightened her stomach muscles…until his knee brushed hers. He didn’t move away. Neither did she.
Clearing her throat, she reminded her brain of the bigger picture here. The prize. “The box of Gray treasure was hidden to keep it from the English.”
“Oh, right. At that point in history, the English and the Scots were in a battle. They were quite often.”
Grace took another sip of her scotch. “The Scots believed they should be an independent country, not ruled by England. The English didn’t agree.”
“So the English were more of a threat than any other clan.”
“Yes.” Again, she shifted her notes around until she found the one she wanted to share. “Based on research, the Douglas clan did the original stealing, but they didn’t hold onto the treasure. One of the clansmen used it to buy his sister’s freedom from a warring clan, the Lindsays. Then, in 1735, another clan attacked the Lindsays. The box disappeared along with every other valuable item in the stronghold. The Frasers were the last ones believed to have possession of it before it disappeared.”
When he picked up the edge of one paper, she slapped her hand on it. “This won’t help you.”
“If I’m going to work with you, it would make sense for me to see your notes.” He tugged the page.
“You won’t be able to read them. I have terrible handwriting.” She inched her fingers toward his.
“Grace.” He gave her a pointed stare.
After a few seconds, she lifted her palm. Allowing him to read the pages in front of her wouldn’t harm her investigation. The notes with the best details still sat on her bed. “Sorry. Old habits.”
For the next hour, they worked through the details of the theft in 1735 and narrowed the possible sites down to three. Still in the midst of reviewing notes, they moved to the dining room for a sample of the local food.
When they finished their meal, Simon closed one of the folders. “I’d say we made some good progress, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah. This is a great plan.” She gathered her materials and stood. “Why don’t we hit the road early? We’ll take the train up to Aviemore, scope out the surroundings, then make a plan for our excursion.”
“What time does the train leave?” After dropping his napkin on the table, he joined her on the walk out of the room.
“Let’s take the nine o’clock. Otherwise, we’ll be waiting until afternoon, which is too late.”
“What about breakfast?”
“We can meet at seven, when the kitchen begins serving.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He started for the stairs then swung around to her. “You coming?”
“In a few minutes. I want to talk to Jennie about…my bill.”
He nodded. “Good night, then.”
Once he’d disappeared onto the second floor, she made her way to the office. Mrs. Maxwell sat at the paperwork-laden desk.
The older woman smiled at her. “Is there something I can do for you, lass?”
“Is it possible to get an early breakfast tomorrow? I’m hoping to catch the first train out.” If all went well, she’d be on her way to Aviemore when Simon arrived downstairs for his morning meal.
“Aye, but it canna be a cooked breakfast. Our cook won’t be ready before six o’clock.”
“It’s not a problem. A scone and a piece of fruit will be enough.”
The woman shifted through the paperwork then pulled a notepad from under the rubble on her desk. “I’ll make a note so we’ll remember to drop it off for you.”
If she doesn’t lose the reminder.
“Will the lad be wanting breakfast, too?”
“No. He won’t be going with me.” When the house manager frowned, Grace nipped her upper lip.
“But I thought he’d come to see you.”
“He did.” She ran her finger over the edge of the desk. “We had a great time catching up during dinner. He’ll be heading out later tomorrow, I’m sure.” Back to Edinburgh, hopefully. Then she would be alone to finish her quest for her uncle and the Gray clan prize.
***
Scrubbing his hand over his face, Simon blew out a slow breath. Darkness surrounded him except for a tiny patch of light in the distance out the window. With a long reach, he grabbed his cell phone off the bedside table. Six a.m. He’d been awake for over an hour, unable to get back to sleep. He tossed his legs over the side of the bed, yawning. While waiting on breakfast, he could review the notes from last night. “But first, coffee.”
After dressing in his jeans and a T-shirt, he grabbed his glasses off the dresser and made his way downstairs for the tea tray in the lobby. Just as he hit the last step, a flash of colorful tartan billowed around a body walking out the front door. Wait a minute. Was that Grace? But where could she be going? Was she having trouble sleeping, too?
He studied her through the window. Two carry-on bags plus a blanket over her shoulders. Aggravation built inside his chest then crawled up his throat. The obnoxious woman intended to bail on him.
Grace stood in front of the bed and breakfast, wrestling with her decision to leave. Her uncle would want her to wait for her temporary partner. Simon expected her cooperation, but he didn’t have as much invested in this adventure.
She glanced at her watch. If she wanted to make the train, she needed to get her feet moving. The clouds in the distance uncovered shimmering shades of sunlight. She took one step. A shiver rattled along her shoulders, although she couldn’t be sure if it was from the cool morning temperature or the guilt ransacking her conscience. “Bugger.”
Her uncle had raised her too well.
The thick, heavy door opened. He settled beside her. “Aren’t you a little early?”
“What are you doing up?” she barked as if stirring out of bed at this time was illegal.
“My system’s still screwed up with the travel. What about you?”
“I guess saying I planned to take a walk wouldn’t work?”
“Nope.” Silence settled between them. He shifted pebbles under his feet. “Want to try another excuse?”
I’m not weak. “I don’t need you.”
“I know. But if we can help each other, why not work together? You might be surprised with the results.”
She turned to face him. This morning he stood a few inches taller and a bit more solid, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He kept his gaze focused across the front lawn toward the loch.
“How much is my uncle paying you to babysit me?”
“First, I’m here for a job. He told me you’d be my partner, not my charge.” He turned to face her. “Second, how much money he’s giving me is none of your business.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get you. I just tried to bail on you. Why aren’t you angry?”
“Who says I’m not?” He shrugged.
“But you’re not yelling at me, you don’t have your arms crossed, and you’re not staring me down.”
“Truth is, when I saw you out here, I wanted to yell at you, but then I saw you stop. I hoped you might be having second thoughts. Besides, getting mad wouldn’t solve the issue.”
This nerd wasn’t like anyone she came in contact with on a regular basis. He made sense, believed in his own words. She’d just tried to cheat him out of the small fortune her uncle had no doubt dangled in front of him, yet here he stood, talking to her.
“So. Do we work together, or are you going to run away with the other details you didn’t share with me last night?”
“How did you know—?”
One side of his mouth curled up as he grinned.
Whoops. Open mouth, insert foot. She had kept vital information from him, hoping to complete the last leg of this journey on her own. Great job admitting it to him. She let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll tell you the rest of the information I have.”
He leaned a little closer. “And?”
Rolling her eyes, she added, “From now on, we’ll work together.”