Chapter 30 #2
How strange it was now to watch an even vaster dream come true. Grace was now the wealthiest young woman in the room.
Grace got what she wanted. Time and time again. Grace used, and she hurt, and she tiptoed away from the trouble she caused.
With each deceit, she soared higher and higher.
“I am at a loss for words,” Grace said breathlessly once her applause quieted. “Lizzie was more than a cousin to me. She was
the first true friend I ever made.”
A bitter laugh fell from Emmy’s lips. Their friendship had never been real to Grace. Not once, in the decade they’d spent
inseparable, had she mattered to Grace.
“Ready?” Jack stared at Grace, his jaw set.
Emmy was more than ready. She glanced at Tobias, but Agnes took her elbow.
“Nothing happens to him.” Agnes uttered it like a threat, but her voice warbled.
“Nothing happens to him.” Emmy squeezed Tobias’s small hand and, with her heart in her throat, followed Jack toward the front of the crowd.
Keeper Windsor clapped his hands. “Now that all that’s out of the way, let’s celebrate—”
“Actually, Keeper Windsor,” Jack interrupted, stepping forward, “might I have the floor for a moment?”
Keeper Windsor blinked in surprise. “I don’t see why not. We’re all rather curious about your entourage this evening.”
Emmy’s gaze found Jimmy, who made his way through the crowd to join her.
“The Windsors’ announcement is well-timed, because I have a gift for their new heiress.” Jack flashed a smirk at the guests,
who leaned closer, delighted. “Miss Montgomery, do you have any burning questions for anyone present? Perhaps a handsome young
man?”
Grace blinked innocently at him. “Are you gifting me a suitable husband?”
Everyone laughed, and Emmy had to hand it to Grace; she was adept at charming a crowd. Jack motioned for Tobias, and with
impressive bravery, the little boy let go of Emmy and walked into the half circle of strangers.
“Ask a question of anyone here,” Jack said, “and this handsome little court jester will give them no choice but to answer
truthfully.”
Emmy did not miss the brief surprise that crossed Grace’s face. As familiar as she was with Tobias’s gift, she hadn’t recognized
him in disguise.
As Grace’s eyes flitted about the crowd, Emmy could nearly picture their plan working. Grace would have no choice but to confess
her role in Mistfield’s fire, and she and Jack could reveal their true identities. The Society would be horrified by their
duplicitousness all summer long—but they’d also know that they’d been wrongfully imprisoned.
And Emmy would see the look on Grace’s face when she realized the dead friend she’d backstabbed had been Winnie all along.
Grace cleared her throat. “I’d like to know why the young Mr. Whitmore has never asked me to dance.”
More laughter. Grace’s smile grew. They were eating out of her hands, and she knew it.
Paul Whitmore stepped forward, his cheeks a bit pink. Tobias took his hand, and Paul gave him a strange look before replying,
“Because I feared Stratton would pound me if I danced with you.” His hand flew to his mouth, the laughter of the crowd nearly
drowning out his raspy voice. “Why did I say that?”
“This boy’s conjury brings the truth.” Jack grinned. “It’s unavoidable.”
“What a delightful gift!” Grace pasted a smile to her pink cheeks as she clapped, the other guests following suit. “Perhaps
we can set up a station for him by the refreshments.”
Clever, to try to move their game along, but fortunately, Jack was cleverer. “Ah, but we have a question for you.”
This was it. Emmy could not breathe as Tobias wrapped his fingers around Grace’s bicep, just above the edge of her golden
glove.
All the color drained from Grace’s rosy cheeks.
“Miss Montgomery.” Nathaniel’s perennially amused smile was still firmly in place. “Do you have secrets of your own?”
Grace’s eyes went wide. “Yes.”
“That’s enough.” Keeper Windsor shot Jack a scathing look.
But Jack raised his voice. “And do your secrets pertain to your cousin’s death?”
Emmy could not suck in a single breath.
“Yes,” Grace rasped. She tried to break free of Tobias’s fingers, but his hold remained firm.
“How dare you.” Keeper Windsor stalked toward Jack, grabbing him by his golden collar. “Grace has already told us everything about
that awful night.”
But Jack shook him off, his gaze locked on Grace’s. “Does your uncle know the truth? Or have you kept secrets from him, too?”
“I haven’t told him everything.” Grace’s eyes were wild as she shook off Tobias, nearly tripping over her train as she backed
away from the little boy. “Uncle, I—”
But Keeper Windsor had gone ashen. “Take the boy’s hand.”
“But I—”
“Now.”
Grace glanced at her aunt for help, but Mrs. Windsor looked as if she was about to collapse. Still, Grace kept her distance
as she searched the crowd as if some solution would present itself, but the audience stared back at her, their attention rapt.
Emmy leaned forward as Tobias’s fingers circled Grace’s arm once again.
Jack’s gray eyes were unrelenting as he stared at Grace. “How did Lizzie die?”
Grace tried to fight the words, covering her mouth with her free hand. If the ballroom hadn’t been utterly silent, Emmy might
not have heard her whisper, “She was murdered.”
This was it. Emmy did not even trust herself to blink, lest she jinx it.
“By who?” Keeper Windsor shouted, his voice anguished.
The ballroom was as quiet as church. No one moved. No one breathed.
With her sky-blue eyes wide, Grace lifted her free hand and pointed.
To Jack.
“By him.” Grace’s finger trembled. “That’s Jack Fontaine. He killed our Lizzie, and he’s come for me, too!”