Frustration bubbled within her, but there was no time to waste. She had to check something first.
As the picnic began to wind down and the party prepared to head back home, Grace made a calculated move. She arranged to sit in the same carriage as Lord Harry, knowing it would provide her with a moment to observe him more closely.
Heather, feeling particularly fatigued, chose to join her sister in the same carriage, leaving Mrs Merriweather to travel with Lady Elizabeth.
Still mesmerised by the swordstick, Heather could not help but exclaim, ‘Gracy, do you think I could get one of these?’
Lord Harry laughed.
‘La, child, what wouldyouneed one for? I only have this because of my limp. Otherwise, I would not bother.’
‘Ah, true,’ Heather replied without much tact. ‘But I saw one hidden in a parasol once! Perhaps that would be more appropriate?’ She glanced at Grace for approval, but Grace’s focus remained firmly on Lord Harry.
Feeling a spark of curiosity and tension, Grace asked, ‘Do you go anywhere at all without it, my lord? Surely you do not use it all the time?’
‘Indeed, I do, Miss Skye. It never leaves my side.’
His eyes held a subtle challenge, one that made Grace uneasy.
‘You must have other such canes,’ she continued, her voice steady despite a cold, suffocating dread coiled around her ribs. ‘Carrying the same one around all the time must get boring.’
Lord Harry leaned back in his seat, never breaking eye contact.
‘I am a creature of habit, Miss Skye. I do not have any other canes to my name.’
Grace suddenly felt the weight of her words.
She had pressed too much.
‘Such a poor dear, you must suffer a great deal because of your leg,’ cried Heather, her tone soft with sympathy. ‘I cannot imagine.’
Grace quickly seized the opportunity to change the subject.
‘I know a very good doctor, a family friend. I insist you let me make an appointment with him for you. He practises in London,and I am sure he could help you. When I broke my leg as a child, he fixed it without a problem. I will not take no for an answer—I shall make the appointment tomorrow.’
‘What are you—ouch!’ Heather’s attempt to interject was swiftly cut off by a painful pinch from Grace on her arm, a clear signal to keep quiet.
Heather, surprised, fell silent as the entire carriage grew still.
Then—Lord Harry tilted his head back and let out a loud laugh, breaking the tension.
‘My goodness, Miss Skye, you’ve got me. I suppose the blade gave me away?’
He unsheathed the sword, his grin wide.
‘She saw the blade, did she? Ishouldhave silenced her permanently while I had the chance.’
His tone darkened, his eyes hardened, and the smile on his lips turned utterly cold.
Heather, still unaware of the full extent of the situation, let out a startled yelp as Lord Harry pointed the sword in her direction. His gaze had turned cold and calculating.
Terrified, Grace reached for the carriage door, desperately trying to get the coachman’s attention. But Lord Harry’s previously weak leg seemed to regain full strength and flexibility in an instant. With a swift motion, he extended it, blocking her escape.
‘No, no, no, Miss Skye,’ he taunted. ‘I thought you loved your sister. In my humble opinion, drawing attention to ourselves would only encourage me to thrust this into her.’
His voice was soft—too soft. The kind of softness that made the hairs on one’s neck rise in warning.
Grace stilled, her breath caught in her throat.
