Page 46 of Much Ado About a Scot

She stopped at the bottom and met his gaze. “You can come with me on one stipulation.”

He arched a brow.

“You will allow me to lead the questioning.”

“Isobel, I can help.”

She straightened. “You’ll do it my way or you will remain here.”

He frowned. “Why do you want to take all of this on yourself? You could be putting yourself at great risk. We still have no idea who might have set the fire in the fields.”

“We also still have no idea if my previous husbands were murdered or died of natural causes. I would rather not risk your health and welfare by having you pose a threat to David Graham.”

Xander narrowed his gaze. “What happens if he sees you as a new problem to rid himself of with all due haste?”

“Then I shall have you to protect me.” Her gaze remained unwavering as she waited for his answer.

His heart constricted and his chest felt tight. He would protect her with his last breath if it ever came to that. He’d thought her fragile when they’d first met. She might be physically slight, but there was nothing fragile about the determined set of her jaw or the spark of vitality in her brown eyes. “I will leave the conversation to you, and only contribute if you ask me to.” He offered her his arm.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they headed outside. In her other hand she held her copy of the land agreement. Outside, the air was still heavy with the acrid scent of smoke as they made their way along the grassy side of the trench he and the men from the village had created. The channel had stopped the flames from spreading to the house.

At the Graham doorway, he rapped on the knocker. Pringle immediately opened the portal. His face lit in a most unbutlerish way. He recovered, bowed, and ushered them inside. “Milady, m’laird, I am so grateful to see you are unharmed.”

“Thank you, Pringle.” Sincerity rang in her tone. “Is Laird Graham at home? We need to speak with him.”

“Indeed, milady. If you will follow me, I’ll inform him of your arrival.”

Pringle showed them into a sitting room on the lower floor with tall windows looking out over Graham’s south fields.

Beside him Isobel stared out the window. “It does seem odd that Graham’s fields are relatively untouched while mine are devastated. If lightning were the cause, then the burn would not have been so specific.”

“We both know lightning wasn’t the cause.”

She frowned, then turned to the doorway as footsteps approached.

Graham appeared, dressed more formally than he had previously, in a midnight-blue surcoat, black breeches, shiny black boots and a lacy white muslin shirt. Xander took it as a sign he was preparing to meet with Atholl, Gowrie, and Montrose very soon.

Graham crossed to them with a ready smile and took Isobel’s hand. “My dear, I am so pleased to see you. How are you after this morning’s tragedy?”

“Jamie and I are both well, thank you.”

He nodded to Xander, then waved to four armchairs that were arranged before the hearth. “Please, sit.”

Isobel sat nearest the fire and Xander sat in the chair beside her while Graham sat facing them and regarded them with gentle interest. “How may I be of service? Is this about James and the puppy I am to give him?”

Isobel shot a glance at Xander before proceeding—a gentle reminder for him to remain silent. “Nay,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s about a far more serious matter.” She unfolded the land agreement and turned it toward Graham. “Do you recognize this document?”

Graham’s features went blank as he sat back and folded his hands in his lap. “Aye, it delineated the reallocation of land after your grandfather saved mine.”

“It is more than that, I learned today. It is also a financial agreement between the two estates.”

Graham didn’t immediately reply. He nodded slowly as if collecting his thoughts. When he met Isobel’s gaze there was something close to desperation lurking in his pale eyes. “I knew you would find out eventually.” He swallowed roughly. “I am so very sorry to have deceived you and your father all these years. I made both of your lives so much harder than they ever should have been.”

“I deserve to know why. Explain to me why you kept the money that was supposed to go to the Seaton estate for yourself?”

“Now that you’ve found out my secret, you deserve to know the truth. All of it,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion. “It started long before you were born in 1544 when my grandfather died the same year yours did. It was also a year of a terrible harvest and the year I was born. There was much confusion with the turnover of the estates and with very little money coming in, my father made the decision to stop all payments to the Seaton estate so that his estate could at least sustain itself.”

His expression was bland as he met her gaze. “It was my father who created the tunnel system between our two houses so he could spy on your family and make certain his secrets were safe. He entered your house long ago, found your land agreement, and made the section about the Graham estate’s financial obligations to the Seaton estate unreadable.”