A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,80

more invitations to dine or take tea with the St. Jameses; they were occupied restoring their shop. She saw nothing of Drew and had only brief greetings from Bella and Winnie. Agnes spent most of her time with her family now, with Felix Duncan escorting her back and forth from the shop or her home most days.

“My mother is in a fine fury,” she told Ilsa. “The thieves took the finest bolts of silk, some already promised and paid for. Now Mother is out the cost of the silk and must refund the customers’ payments. It’s mortifying to her, having to tell her customers that she cannot deliver their orders because we were robbed.”

“But that’s not her fault,” Ilsa protested.

“Of course not. But one lady suggested, rather tartly, that Mother ought to have replaced the lock and door when this trouble began.” Agnes rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “It doesn’t make sense, but everyone is on edge! I cannot believe no one has caught these villains. It’s been months.”

“Perhaps the reward offer will turn up something.” Ilsa didn’t have much confidence, though. The rewards hadn’t accomplished anything so far.

“Drew says he spoke to the procurator-fiscal and proposed a new reward.” Here Agnes grew grim again. “Of course, he also suggested Mama sell the shop and go with him to England. And perhaps now he’s right, curse it, but I—I—” She stopped, biting her lip.

Ilsa didn’t want to talk about that, either. A few days ago Drew had said the duke might live another thirty years and he would remain just a Scot, with no pressing need to leave Edinburgh. It was a hard jolt to hear that now he was urging his mother to sell so they could leave town immediately.

“I am certain that if you don’t wish to go, you could find a way to remain here,” she murmured.

Agnes pretended she didn’t hear. Ilsa had been openly fishing for information for several days, since Mr. Duncan seemed to have nothing else to do but squire Agnes about town, and Agnes—for a change—seemed quite happy for him to do it, but her friend had grown more close-lipped than ever about him. Weeks ago she would have spent hours musing or ranting about the man, and now she said not a word. Ilsa felt . . . shut out.

“I think I should be at home now.” Agnes flushed, not meeting Ilsa’s gaze. “My mother is beset by worries and indignation over the shop, and I ought to be there to help her.”

“Oh,” faltered Ilsa. She had not foreseen that. “Bella—and Winnie—”

“They are no real help, and both imagine thieves around every corner. I believe Winnie would be ecstatic if our own home were broken into—the excitement! The drama! The danger! She asked Drew to leave his sword with her, which thankfully he refused to do.” Agnes’s eyes flashed. “Besides, I’m the eldest, and Mama relies on me more.”

Ilsa did not point out that Agnes was the eldest daughter, not the eldest child. “Of course you must do as you think best,” she said, making herself smile.

Agnes sighed with gratitude. “I knew you would understand! Drew said—” She stopped, coloring. “I hate to leave you alone, but of course you’re not. Your aunt is here, and you have Robert and all the servants.”

Only Robert provided real companionship, and he was a pony. Ilsa’s smile grew wistful. “Of course. Your family needs you, and I shall be fine.”

Agnes embraced her and went to pack her things. Ilsa sat in lonely silence for a moment, contemplating the new order.

She had sent a note to Mrs. St. James the day after the robbery, expressing her shock and outrage and offering any assistance she might make. The reply had been gracious and kind, thanking her for the generous offer but nothing more.

Ilsa hadn’t expected much else, but since then it felt as if she had been slowly but inexorably edged out of the circle again, as before the visit to Stormont. Too late she realized she had latched on to that warmth and welcome far too quickly, seizing on their kindness and obviously making more of it than they intended.

More than any of them intended, perhaps. Despite what he said on the hill, she hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Drew since the robbery. She burned to ask Agnes about him—to know about him, even if he were too busy to see her—but did not dare. Surely if he wished to