High Rhymes and Misdemeanors Page 15

Grace could not help the squeak of alarm that escaped her. All three gentlemen turned her way and waited politely. When she did not continue, there was a sort of pause.

  “Be my guest,” Peter drawled with a languid wave of his hand. One of Georgette Heyer’s Regency bucks couldn’t have done it better.

  Heron glanced at his trusty constable. “We have your permission to search the premises?”

  “If it will amuse you.”

  “Amuse us? No, sir. We’re simply doing our duty.”

  Peter’s expression grew mocking, and Heron reddened.

  “I’ll just finish packing,” Grace suggested, edging off toward the guest room.

  “Packing, miss?”

  “Miss Hollister hopes to meet up with friends in Scotland.”

  “I see.”

  “Is there a problem?” Grace asked nervously.

  “I’m not sure, Miss Hollister.” Heron turned to Peter. “Will you accompany us downstairs, Mr. Fox?”

  “Certainly.” Peter headed for the door, impatience vibrating in his step.

  Grace watched them out of the room. The official march of feet on the stairs sounded ominous.