A woman rushed out the front door, and from the resemblance to Lizzie, Malcolm expected the woman was her mama.
“You’re back,” she exclaimed happily when Lizzie exited the carriage, pulling her into a warm embrace. “Did ye have a nice visit?”
“Mama, please,” Lizzie begged, embarrassment tinging her cheeks bright pink.
The woman gave a kind smile to Mary as she stepped from the carriage, and then her eyes widened when Malcolm exited.
“Och, who do we have here?” Her hand fluttered to the pendant she wore and she started fidgeting with the gem, her eyes darting to Lizzie.
“Mama, this is Lord Kennedy, Earl of Cassilis. Sir, this is my mama, Lydia, Baroness Barclay.”
Malcolm stepped forward and bowed. “’Tis verra nice to make your acquaintance. I have heard much about ye.”
Lydia’s brows drew together as she gave her daughter a questioning look. But Lizzie just ignored her.
“Well, I am sure ye have had a long journey. Please, come inside.” She snaked her hand into the crook of Lizzie’s elbow. “I am curious to ken what is happening.”
Inside, Malcolm was ushered to the salon and offered refreshments. He took a seat and waited for the inevitable arrival of Mr. Barclay. Any man worth his salt would want to assess the man that had shown up with his unmarried daughter, with her maid as her only chaperone.
He wasn’t sure what he would tell them yet. He thought it was only proper that Lizzie explained exactly what happened first. He wouldn’t implicate her in any way.
The last thing he wanted to do was put her in a bad light with her parents.
While he waited, he got up and paced around the room, studying the many portraits hanging on the walls.
And that was when he saw it.
The portrait of what could only be Lizzie’s grandmama. The resemblance was unmistakable. They had the same coloring, along with the same eyes.
And smile.
They both had beautiful smiles. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. Nay, what his eyes focused on was the necklace she wore.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch he’d stored the necklace in when he’d requested it back from Lizzie, and held it up, studying it against the portrait.
Well, shite.
Lizziehadbeen telling him the truth this whole time. It also proved that it wasn’t Lizzie that robbed the estate on the first night they’d stopped. That truly had been the Phantom Prowler… most likely the viscountess as Lizzie had suspected. Which he had kenned all along. The more time he’d spent with her, the more he realized she couldn’t be the prowler.
He didn’t think the lass had a deceptive bone in her body. Well, except for her wee deception of her parents, that is.
And she’d be dealing with whatever punishment they deemed fit soon enough. He hoped they wouldn’t be too hard on the lass. Her motive was genuine, and she only had her family’s best interest at heart.
“Lord Malcolm, welcome to Tolton Hall.” Richard Barclay entered the room and held out his hand for a shake.
He dropped the necklace into his pocket.
“Sir Barclay. I thank ye for the welcome.”
“I think ’tis I that should be thanking ye.”
Malcolm raised his brow in question.
“For getting my daughter home safely to us. Though, I would like to learn the details of how that came to be.”
It was a question disguised as a statement, but Malcolm didn’t take the bait. He wouldn’t give Lizzie up. She had made the decisions she had, and it was up to her to explain them to her parents, not him.
*
