A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,78
shop looked as it always did. The front door had been closed and the back door leading into the alley was still barred from the inside. Only a few scratches on the lock plate indicated any trespass.
“They got in easily.” He looked at his mother. “Is this lock sound?”
She flushed angrily. “Sound and stout enough these past five years, Andrew! It was repaired only a few months ago!”
He held up his hands. “Aye, aye!”
A sheriff-officer arrived then with Mr. Battie, but there was little they could tell him. He assured them a report would be filed and their losses recorded, but beyond that he could only offer his sympathy. He left with a suggestion that they call upon the procurator-fiscal and offer another reward.
Louisa picked up a broom and began attacking the mess, her face set and her eyes flashing. “Sympathy! I suppose that’s all he offered Mr. Wemyss the goldsmith, too!”
“What can he do, Mother? If they knew who the thieves were, they would make an arrest.” Hands on hips, Drew paced through the shattered salon, searching for anything that might betray the intruders.
“Unconscionable!” Louisa muttered, whisking furiously at the piles of unraveled thread.
Drew said nothing. This invasion infuriated him, too, and part of him wanted to stalk Edinburgh every night, catch the villains and throttle them before dragging their hides to the Tolbooth jail.
The other half of him . . . He had been delicately trying to persuade his mother to sell the shop and come with him to England. Was this not the perfect motivation? Leave all this behind, he could urge. Come to Carlyle, and it will be as it was at Stormont Palace . . .
Winnie burst in, Agnes hard on her heels. “What happened?” Agnes cried.
Drew explained as their mother angrily swept, offering only a curt word now and then. Winnie, wide-eyed and quiet, hurried to help their mother while Agnes paced, her arms folded.
“This has gone too far,” she announced. “This thieving!”
“Aye,” replied Drew with forced patience. “Do you know who’s behind it? The sheriff-clerk would be well pleased to hear a name.”
She glared at him.
“Put it up for sale,” said Drew abruptly. “Don’t bother cleaning, walk away and be done with it all.”
Louisa stopped what she was doing to stare, Winnie made a startled sound, and Agnes exhaled in obvious fury. “That’s your response? Just sell Papa’s shop and run off to England?”
“It’s not been Papa’s shop for a dozen years. It’s Mother’s shop.”
“Don’t,” cried Agnes. “This is our shop!”
Louisa’s face was red. “I cannot decide that now, Andrew!”
“Why not now?” he exclaimed. “What better time to be rid of it and all the worry it entails?”
“It’s ours,” said Agnes with a furious wail. “Not yours! Nothing will ever again be ours if we all leave and go with you!”
He stared in amazement. “What are you going on about?”
“Everything!”
With a slam, the front door flew open and struck the wall, and Felix Duncan surged into the room, his face set in battle lines. “What the bloody blazes happened?” His gaze flew to Agnes. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.
With a cry she ran to him. Felix caught her as if he’d come explicitly to do just that, gathering her close and lifting her off her feet. And Agnes’s arms were around him, her face buried in his neck.
Drew’s jaw almost hit the floor. Louisa’s broom clattered as it fell. Winnie broke into an astonished but beaming smile.
After a long moment Duncan set Agnes back on her feet. He tipped up her face to his and murmured something, and she nodded, keeping her back to her family. Flushed, Duncan turned to Drew. “What the hell happened here?”
“We were robbed. What just happened here?” Drew jerked his head toward Agnes, who whirled and glared at him.
Duncan cleared his throat. “Was anything taken?”
“If nothing was taken, I wouldn’t call it a robbery, aye?”
“Stop,” exclaimed Louisa sternly. “Take your arguing into the street. Agnes, run upstairs and find the master inventory book. Bella’s been up there searching for an age. Winifred, find another broom and help me. This won’t clear itself. Andrew.” She pinned him with a fierce look. “I’ll not walk away from this shop. Turn the sign in the window. We’re not open today.”
He and Duncan stepped into the street, still quiet at this hour, and closed the door behind them. “A simple robbery?” asked Duncan, his eyes flitting up and down the short expanse of Shakespeare Square. “Same as all the others?”