Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“This better not be a waste of our time, Rowan,” Simon warned his friend. The pair was riding down a dirt-filled path in a part of town that Simon had not been in before.
“You seem to have a lot of faith in me.” Simon could feel Rowan rolling his eyes as he spoke. “But a little patience will do you good. You need to trust me here.”
“I trust logic,” Simon corrected without hesitation. “And logic tells me that an abandoned estate is an unlikely place to find the culprit whom we have been tracking for a long time now.”
“You say that,” Rowan shook his head as he dismounted his horse. Overgrown shrubbery surrounded the lawn, and it looked like no one had set foot in there for years. “But you do not seem to have an alternate lead either.”
“I am just pointing out the obvious,” Simon said, dismounting as well. The horse neighed as he pulled it to the side. “I cannot see why someone would hide in a place like this. It would be far too much of an obvious choice.”
“I was told that we should find them here. My source told me, and I trust them,” Rowan maintained, though his voice sounded tired.
“You’ve yet to explain why this source of yours is trustworthy enough for us to chase shadows in the night,” Simon quipped.
“Because this source hasn’t failed me before,” Rowan answered simply. “And because I am not in the habit of leading you on wild chases for my own amusement. If you had a better lead, we wouldn’t be here,” Rowan pointed out.
Simon could not argue with that. He realized that he was being too harsh with Rowan, for he was only trying to help out.
“Tell me, where else should we go? Follow another dead-end trail? Wait for them to slip through our fingers?” Rowan continued.
“Fine,” Simon exhaled. “You have made your point, but I still am not interested in wasting my time. If this lead is false, I will eliminate it now and move on.”
Rowan muttered something under his breath.
Simon shot him a look. “Speak plainly.”
“You’ve been impossible to deal with lately,” Rowan said. “Even more so than usual. Irritable, impatient, scowling at the wind—”
“Get to the point.”
“All this time away from your lovely wife is making you unbearable.” Rowan’s mouth twisted upwards into a grin. “If anything, this should make you reconsider your decision to leave.”
“Do not bring Rachel into this.”
“Why not? It’s obvious to everyone that she’s on your mind.” Rowan chuckled. “And before you deny it, you should know that I’ve known you long enough to tell when a woman has gotten under your skin.”
“You are distracting me with this chatter.”
“Or perhaps you’ve been distracted all this time. Your jaw twitched when I said her name,” Rowan observed, far too pleased with himself.
“I am not here to discuss my marriage,” Simon retorted. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up when there was no need for us to discuss it.”
Rowan studied him for a moment, then exhaled loudly in defeat. “Fine. I’ll stop. Now, how do you suppose we make our way inside?”
Simon felt grateful for the shift in conversation. The last thing he wanted to discuss at this moment was Rachel. He looked around. The estate was larger than he had anticipated.
That was when Simon noticed a flicker of movement in one of the upstairs windows. It almost looked like someone was peeking through the glass to check up on them.
“There is someone else here.” Simon’s voice came out more serious than before.
“Told you.”
“Let’s get moving.” Simon drew his pistol. He was not about to take any chances.
Rowan followed as Simon led the way.
As they entered the estate, Simon noticed how everything seemed as though it had not been touched in many years. Thick mounds of dust covered nearly every surface, and there was a suffocating feeling inside the house.
“Are you sure that it was a person that we spotted in the windows?” Simon asked as they ventured further out into the house. “Maybe it could have been an animal.”
Rowan—who was already coughing in the cloud of dust—glared at Simon.
“We have come all this way, Simon,” he said. “If you make us turn back now—”
“Fine, relax,” Simon raised his hand to calm his friend down. “I was merely making a suggestion. Let’s head upstairs now.”
The steps creaked loudly as they made their way up—so loud in fact that Simon wondered whether the structure would collapse under their weight.
“The things I do for you.” Rowan shook his head as they finally made their way to the top. “This is the perfect setting for a murderer. If we manage to get out of here alive, then you owe me a drink.”
Simon ignored his friend’s theatrics. They surveyed a few rooms before finally arriving at the one on the corner of the hallway.
“You took your time,” a smooth voice said to them the moment they set foot into the room. Simon and Rowan exchanged glances, eyes widening in surprise.
The voice did not belong to a man. It was a woman who was speaking.
“Have you been expecting us?” Simon demanded, mustering his courage. His heart was beating loudly in his chest now. He had thought about this moment for so many years.
“I know you’ve been looking for me,” the woman spoke again. She had her back turned towards them, so Simon could not yet place a face to the voice.
“Reveal yourself,” he warned, cocking his gun.
“All in due time,” the woman muttered, still not turning. Simon noticed the gray in her hair—not only was she a woman, but she was older than Simon had expected.
“I think she is bluffing us,” he muttered to Rowan. “She is not the person we are looking for. Let’s not waste our time.”
Simon’s words were half-earnest, but they were also bait. He wanted to see how she would react.
“Oh, I am exactly the person you are looking for,” the reply was immediate, and Simon sensed a hint of desperation there. That was all the confirmation he needed that she wanted them to find her as much as they did. “I am just surprised it took you so long.”
Simon didn’t lower his weapon, his eyes fixed on the woman’s back. Slowly, she began to turn.
“Grace Langston,” Rowan exclaimed. Simon had not heard the name before, but the face seemed far too familiar.
“You seem surprised,” she mused before glancing over at Simon. “After all these years of searching, were you expecting someone else?”
“I was expecting you to run the moment you saw me,” Simon replied. His mind was running in all directions now. Where had he seen her before? “Which, if you were wise, you should be doing now as well.”
“Oh, my bones ache now. I would not dare to do such a thing,” she smirked. “Besides, I was hoping that we might get a chance to speak.”
“You already know why I am here, then,” Simon said in a sharp voice.
“Naturally,” Grace replied, taking a step toward him.
Rowan shifted beside Simon, his own hand hovering near his holster. “That’s close enough.”
“Careful, gentlemen. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look nervous,” Grace continued. Whatever mind games she was trying to play with him would not work.
She smiled as she waited for him to reply. It felt familiar, and suddenly, Simon remembered where he had seen her before.
The ball.
He had discarded the memory before, seeing it as unimportant, but now, it was clear to him that she was somebody who had closer links to him than he thought.
He had first seen her when he had gone looking for Rachel at the ball. She had been speaking to Christopher Montrose. She had been watching him then the same way she was watching him now.
“How do you know Christopher Montrose?” Simon demanded at once.
“Ah, finally,” she mused, tapping a finger against her lips. “At least you remember something.”
“Answer me.”
“Now, now, Your Grace,” she chided. “You’ve spent all this time looking for me, and the first thing you ask about is another man? I must say, I’m disappointed.”
Simon had no patience for her games. “You met with him. What did you want from him?”
“Oh, Simon.” She said his name so frankly, as if they had known each other for years. “What makes you so certain it was me who wanted something from him? Do you really underestimate me so?”
Simon’s mind shifted to Rachel immediately, and alarm bells began to sound.
“Why is the Montrose family involved in this?” he asked.
“Oh, stop this,” Grace dismissed him. “Christopher does not have a role in this. I speak to many men at many balls.”
“You have no credibility,” Simon replied. “And I have no real reason to believe you, either. I would suggest that you keep that in mind.”
“Please,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I have better things to do than lie to you.”
Simon didn’t believe that for a second. His instincts were screaming at him that Montrose was connected to this. That this went deeper than he had initially thought. But before he could press further, Grace started to speak again.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, watching him carefully, “you are chasing all the wrong leads. Do you truly not remember? We have met before.”
“When?” Simon snapped.
“Come now,” Grace said, smoothing the fabric of her dark gown. “I would have thought you’d remember something so personal.”
“Speak plainly, or I walk out that door.” Simon was not one to be intimidated.
Grace smirked. “Think long and hard. Your father certainly would have remembered me if he were here.”
“Careful what you say. Bringing my father into this is not going to absolve you of anything,” Simon warned, though her tone had sent a chill down his spine.
“Oh, I am,” she murmured. “More careful than your father was when he had an affair with me.”
The confession hung in the air, and neither Simon nor Rowan had a response to it at first.
“You are lying,” Simon shook his head finally. His father was not exactly a great man, but it was far too easy to blame him when he was not here to defend himself.
“How many times do I need to tell you that I do not need to lie to you?” Grace countered. “I suggest you think back a bit more. Don’t you remember Gracie?”