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“That’s an excellent question,” Graeme said. “It’s quite possible this could be a crime of opportunity. Many Scottish lords—or ladies—would make an inviting target for both revenge and ransom. And many of them are in Edinburgh right now, all here for George’s visit.”
“So, Sabrina might not be the target,” Vicky said, looking hopeful.
Graeme wasn’t prepared to go that far. In fact, his instincts were telling him that Old Bill had the right of it. But how could he prove it?
“Possibly,” he reluctantly said.
“Probably, I hope,” Sabrina replied. “Regardless, I am deeply disturbed to hear there may be Clearances on my father’s estate. I intend to investigate that situation.”
“How? You’re going home in a few days,” Graeme said.
Her dainty chin took on a defiant tilt. “I will not be returning home until the situation is resolved to my satisfaction. His Majesty will have to do without me on the trip.”
Oh, and wasn’tthatall Graeme needed? Sabrina putting herself right into the thick of things, where she would be most vulnerable.
He carefully put down his glass and stood. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled down at Sabrina.
And noticed how remarkably unimpressed she looked.
“This is not up for debate, Sabrina,” he said. “Youwillbe returning to London.”
She stood and crossed her arms, mirroring his pose. “Your opinion notwithstanding, sir, that will not be happening. I’m remaining in Edinburgh.”
“The hell you will,” he growled. “If I have to drag your pretty arse onto that blasted boat myself, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Ignoring her outraged gasp and the resigned sighs of his relatives, Graeme stalked from the room.
Chapter Seventeen
Sabrina morosely eyed the trunks lined against the wall of her bedroom. In two days, she would depart with the king. Her life in London—her privileged and utterly boring life—beckoned once more.
Sadly, Graeme seemed especially eager for her departure, and the reasons didn’t truly matter. If he had feelings for her, he wasn’t prepared to act on them. Sabrina wasn’t prepared to chase after him like a silly miss entirely lacking in dignity.
She picked up the crystal glass she’d snuck up from the drawing room and took a cautious sip, wincing at the bracing heat of the whisky. Tonight’s disturbing events, ending with that embarrassing scene with Graeme in front of his family, continued to pluck at her nerves like a deranged harpist. The whisky, she hoped, would be medicinal and calm her down. So far it had failed to do the trick, but she was willing to soldier on to the bottom of the glass.
Graeme’s parting and highly insulting shot had certainly thrown the cat amongst the pigeons. After a stunned pause, everyone in the room had started talking, all of them offering highly opinionated observations. A lively argument had ensued, giving Sabrina her chance to slip from the room. That she’d done so undetected only confirmed how upset the family was by Graeme’s behavior.
If she had a brain in her head, she would happily depart and leave the poor Kendrick family in peace.
But the situation at Lochnagar Manor demanded some kind of action from her. A clear injustice was taking place on her father’s estate, one she could not ignore. If Graeme truly cared for her—and she’d thought he did—he would see how much it meant to her to correct that appalling situation, and he’d offer to help. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that Graeme Kendrick didn’t think much of her at all, and that was an awful notion to contemplate.
Sabrina forced another mouthful down, wondering how Scots could refer to whisky as smooth. When she stood up from her dressing table, she wobbled.
The medicine, it would appear, was working.
She tipped her head back and swallowed the rest, struggling not to cough. All good medicines were the same, nasty but effective. She hoped this one would be effective in helping her to forget blasted Graeme Kendrick.
When a quiet tap sounded on the door, she peered at the clock on the mantel. Who would be knocking at this late hour?
Certainly not blasted Graeme Kendrick.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered as she headed for the door.
For some reason, it seemed farther away than it appeared.
When she opened it, she blinked at Ainsley, dressed in a frilly wrapper and matching nightcap. Her friend glanced down at the glass in Sabrina’s hand.
“It’s entirely medicinal.” Sabrina was quite proud that she barely slurred her words.
