Scandal in Scotland Read Online Free PDF

the distinct impression that Miss Challoner’s hatred for the blackmailer quite equaled her own, but the woman refused to engage in conversation beyond the necessary, merely accepting with a bland expression whatever bundle Marcail handed over for delivery. I wonder what the blackmailer holds over Miss Challoner’s head? It must be something quite weighty. The next time I’m alone with her, I shall ask. It can’t hurt matters .
    “I do hope you’re being careful. I worry about your having commerce with these people. I also hate that you have to carry such large amounts of money to such horrid locations.”
    “I didn’t have to go to a horrid part of town this time. Of course, he didn’t ask for money, either.” A flicker of regret flared and she resolutely tamped it down. It wasn’t as if William had harbored tender thoughts of her before she’d stolen the artifact. If anything, she’d confirmed his already low opinion of her.
    “What did the blackmailer want, if not money?” Grandmamma asked.
    “He wanted me to fetch an ancient artifact.”
    “Fetch?” Grandmamma’s eyes sharpened. “What do you mean by that?”
    “I was told I must obtain an Egyptian artifact and—”
    Grandmamma grasped Marcail’s hand. “Please tell me that you haven’t done something you’ll be sorry for.”
    “Of course I haven’t.” Which was a complete and utter lie.
    Grandmamma’s thin brows rose.
    Marcail sighed. “The artifact didn’t belong to the person who held it, so it wasn’t precisely stealing. I hoped the artifact might be a clue to my blackmailer’s identity so I took it to someone who works with the British Museum. They examined it and said that, while ancient, it’s not that rare.”
    “Perhaps the materials make it valuable?”
    “No. It’s made mainly of onyx, with very little gold, so … I just don’t know.”
    “Stranger and stranger.” Grandmamma shook her head and poured more tea into both cups.
    Marcail noted how badly the older woman’s hands now shook. She’s getting so fragile. I shouldn’t be bothering her with my problems. I should—
    “Yes, you should bring your problems to me.” Grandmamma sent Marcail a hard look before returning the teapot to the tray. “We are family, we two. Closer than most mothers and daughters.”
    Marcail smiled. “You read my mind.”
    “Hardly. Every time I wrest a problem from you, you tell me that it’s really none of my concern and not to bother myself with it.” Grandmamma’s green eyes were grave. “We are strong, and we will overcome all adversity—including Miss Challoner and the blackmailer.”
    Marcail fidgeted with the edge of her cuff. “There is another thing about this situation that made it worse.”
    “What could possibly make it worse? I can’t imagine—” Grandmamma’s gaze narrowed. “ Whom did they ask you to steal this artifact from?”
    Marcail’s cheeks heated.
    “Allow me to guess. Captain Hurst, perhaps?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then that’s why you’re so upset.”
    “No, I’m upset because I’m being blackmailed. It has nothing to do with William Hurst.”
    Grandmamma took a sip of her tea, her shrewd gaze never wavering.
    “Honestly, it’s been years since I saw him!”
    Grandmamma listened politely.
    “In fact, I wasn’t even certain I’d remember what he looked like.” He’d looked exactly as he had the last time she’d seen him—tall and powerful, his black hair framing his incredible dark blue eyes, and—
    Grandmamma cleared her throat.
    Marcail threw up her hands. “Oh, very well! He looked exactly the same, only older.”
    Grandmamma nodded. “I’m not surprised it was difficult to see him. You were most taken with him.”
    More than taken. She’d been wildly, passionately in love.
    And when she’d seen him again, she’d felt like that mad, impulsive innocent all over again.
    If she closed her eyes now, she could see his blue eyes and dark hair, the cleft of his chin and the sparkle of