Page 37 of The Bachelor Spy
And one woman among the lot who definitely was.
Oh, where was Grace?
His assignments usually didn’t involve keeping track of a whimsical American countess turned amateur detective who didn’t even know she was pregnant.
Thank heaven! His life was careening into territory he wasn’t quite certain how to navigate.
A faint scent of mint and rosemary reached him before a soft voice did.
“Blake?”
He turned just in time to see Grace standing in the corridor, cheeks flushed from the wind, leaves clinging to her skirt, and Zeus’ head visible behind her. Zahra peeked around Grace’s other side, dark eyes bright.
Relief washed through him.
“There you are.” He schooled his features to be calm and moved toward her, the limp returning to his gait. “I’ve been in search of you, dear Lady Astley.”
Without ceremony or warning, she took him by the arm and drew him down the hallway toward the morning room, Zahra trailing just behind them with Zeus lumbering along.
“I found something not half an hour ago,” she whispered as soon as she’d closed the door. “In the chapel.”
Of course she did.
And then her words registered fully. “You’ve been to the chapel? Alone?”
The emotion in his voice slipped past his control. The utter lunacy of this entire situation was clearly putting him off his guard.
“Not alone.” She shook her head, waving toward Zahra … and Zeus. “I was with them.”
A girl and a dog. He felt infinitely better.
Wonderful. Perfectly safe, then.
“Lady Astley, I know as the sleuth you are, you understand the seriousness of our situation, surely.” Perhaps teasing her would not only curb his frustration but encourage her awareness. “There are potentially dangerous people about.”
“Of course, which is why I took Zeus.” She nodded with a bright smile that suggested she thought this logic was utterly sound.
And Blake understood with fuller awareness how his cousin Freddie had become ensnared in all these adventures in the first place.
Grace’s enthusiasm for mystery was absolutely contagious. And completely maddening.
Eyes gleaming, she stepped nearer, reaching into her pocket to produce a small brass button. “I found this.”
Blake took the item from her, turning it over in his palm. Standard British Army issue, the Royal Crown and Arms still bright. Recent, not antique. And the thread still clinging to the shank was khaki wool—uniform fabric.
His gaze shot to hers. “Where exactly did you find this?”
“At the base of the baptismal font in the chapel.” Grace leaned closer, lowering her voice further. “And, Blake, there was a scent—cologne, quite fresh. Cloves and cedar. Someone had been there recently.Veryrecently.”
Blake’s mind immediately began cataloguing the male servants and patients at Havensbrooke, running through mental files. He’d met everyone at least once, but he certainly hadn’t filed away each man’s cologne.
He’d never needed to before.
Now, Evie’s perfume? That he remembered. Lavender and something darker. Intoxicating.
He ruthlessly pushed the thought aside.
“And you think the thief may want something with the chapel?”
