A Study in Death (Lady Darby Mystery, A Book 4)

by Anna Lee Huber

  I understood what I risked. I remembered the menace I had seen in Bonnie Brock’s eyes when he lounged in the seat of Philip’s carriage across from me the evening he abducted me. Even when I had pointed a gun at him, I had recognized he was still the one in control. And the night he had intercepted me as I walked home and trapped me against the fence surrounding the garden, I recalled his words to me. “If ye wander into my territory, ye willna leave again.” I would be a fool to be swayed in any way by the gentleness I’d witnessed him exhibit toward his sister when we returned her to him six weeks ago, after her ordeal. Or the obvious affection between the siblings when Maggie had clung to him and cried. So the man wasn’t completely heartless. That didn’t mean he would hesitate to harm me or someone I loved if I crossed him.

  However, even knowing all the risks, even knowing what I was considering would infuriate Gage, I couldn’t dismiss the idea. My mouth quirked wryly. Or perhaps Gage’s anger wasn’t a deterrent. Every time I thought of his defiant glare, my muscles tensed, ready to march across the square. But I didn’t want my only reason for doing this to be to spite Gage. It couldn’t be about flouting his orders. It had to be about Lady Drummond.

  The image of her lying on the floor, her eyes desperately pleading with me as she writhed in pain, haunted me. I knew she hadn’t died of an apoplexy. It simply didn’t make sense. But if I didn’t do something, the world would never accept that. Her killer would never face the consequences. And quite simply, I didn’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to uncover the truth, wherever that might take me.

  My decision made, I walked quickly from the room, snatching up my shawl where it was draped over the back of a chair. My feet pattered down the steps and out the front door. I glanced about as I hurried across the street to the green space. I could feel Bonnie Brock’s henchman’s eyes on me, but I did not look at him. Not until I was almost upon him.

  He startled when I fixed my gaze on him, halting a few feet away. I couldn’t resist arching a single brow haughtily. Had he honestly thought he’d gone unnoticed?

  “I need you to deliver a message to Bonnie Brock.”

  He didn’t speak, but I could tell from the panicked look in his eyes he understood what I was saying.

  “Tell him I need to meet the chemist working near Grassmarket. And remind him he owes me a favor. He’ll know what I mean.”

  The man swallowed, but still did not respond.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes before walking away. I trusted he would do as I asked.

  One of the spinsters who lived two town houses east of Philip’s stood at her window staring down at me. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and for once I was in no mood to ignore it. I glared back at her in challenge and she shrank away from the glass.

  The ever-unflappable Figgins appeared to open the door. “My lady,” he intoned, revealing not even an ounce of surprise, though he must have been curious why I was out in the square with just a shawl to keep me warm.

  “Figgins,” I replied.

  I felt his eyes on me, but when I looked back, they were carefully averted.

  • • •

  A letter was waiting for me on the table the next morning as I sat down to breakfast. I glanced about for the butler, but he wasn’t there. Normally Figgins handed us our correspondence or left it sitting on the silver salver in the hall. I flipped the missive over to see the seal. It was stamped with the crest of a castle with an arm rising out of it brandishing a sword, and the words This I’ll Defend. I arched my brows, recognizing it as the Kincaid clan crest. I wondered just whose finger Bonnie Brock had stolen the signet ring from that bore this mark.

  I looked around me again, pondering just how this had been delivered. The footman stood at attention by the sideboard, avoiding my gaze, but then he always did that.

  Breaking open the seal with my knife, I unfolded the letter to find a short message written in a far neater hand than I’d anticipated. But for the arrogant slant of the letters I would have thought it was written by a female.

  Wednesday. Nightfall. Castlehill. Don’t be late. The Chemist waits for no one. And neither do I. Even bloodthirsty wenches.

  P.S. Do not bring Mean Maclean.

  I refolded the letter and turned toward the window. A bloodthirsty wench. That was what Bonnie Brock had called me when I threatened to do what I was rumored to be capable of should he or his men harm Gage. I didn’t know why he was harking back to that, but knowing Bonnie Brock, I was sure it had been done with intention.

  A trickle of uneasiness ran down my spine.

  Whatever the reason, there was no turning back now. If I didn’t show, Bonnie Brock would demand to know the reason why, and I, or Gage, would suffer the consequences of trifling with him. For better or worse, I would be descending into the dark wynds and closes of Old Town tomorrow night. I only hoped I would emerge again.

  CHAPTER 14

  “I know Alana wishes she could have come tonight,” I said.

  Philip looked up from his silent contemplation of the dark streets of Edinburgh. He’d been staring out the window ever since we’d pulled away from Charlotte Square. It was obvious he wasn’t ignoring me. I knew him well enough to realize he was organizing his thoughts, preparing to debate with some of the other members of Parliament who would be at the dinner tonight. After all, that was why we were going.

  But I couldn’t help but feel tense, wanting to broach the subject of his and Alana’s relationship, but knowing now was not the time. I would need to bite my tongue until after the event, when a disruption to my brother-in-law’s concentration would not matter so much. However, I couldn’t continue to sit in silence, feeling the nerves that had tightened my stomach ever since I received Bonnie Brock’s note grow tauter with each passing hour. Tomorrow night could not come quickly enough, and yet part of me wished it never came at all.

  Philip smiled. “Yes. She does enjoy these sorts of gatherings, more than me or you.” His eyes strayed back toward the window. “I shall miss her this evening.” His eyes darted back toward me. “Not that you are not also a lovely companion.”

  I grinned at his concern that he had hurt my feelings. “Oh, hush, Philip. It’s only right that you should miss your wife. Besides, I know I’m probably the least advantageous woman in all of Edinburgh to attend a political dinner with. In fact, I would say I’m more of a liability.” It was my turn to look away as I muttered under my breath, “I hope Gage realizes that.”

  “He does.”

  I looked up in surprise at Philip’s response. His eyes matched the warmth in his voice.

  “Are you sure about that?” I couldn’t help asking, feeling the familiar anxiety stir in me.

  “Yes.” He shifted to face me more fully. “I won’t say that won’t be a frustration at times. But he knows exactly what your limitations are in that regard and accepts them. Just as you accept that the fellow can be dashed secretive at times. Like pulling teeth to get information out of that one. Used to frustrate the lot of us at Cambridge. Especially when it was something we truly needed to know.”

  Except I’d pressured him yet again to tell me what had happened in Greece. I felt like I’d swallowed a helping of guilt chased by a serving of frustration. Because Philip was right about one thing. His secretiveness was exasperating. I didn’t know when to push and when to be patient. Where was the line between being nosy and interfering, and being a fool for not demanding the truth sooner? For I knew one thing—Gage would never reveal a thing if he was not forced to.

  Philip’s gaze turned shrewd. “Though I daresay, if anyone can understand his guardedness, it’s you. A more uncommunicative pair I’ve never seen, at least about yourselves.”

  I didn’t argue. I’d always been a bit quiet and reserved, preferring to observe rather than be observed. It wasn’t so much the lack of a desire to socialize, but the fact that
I didn’t understand the point of small talk. So much time at gatherings and soirees seemed to be wasted on discussion about the weather and compliments on one’s clothing, and the other half was spent in gossiping. My marriage to Sir Anthony and the resulting scandal from his death had only made matters worse.

  Gage, on the other hand, was different. He was charming and self-assured. A true master at the art of trivial conversation. His presence was always sought after at any event. Or at least it had been. I didn’t know whether our recent engagement had changed that. I suspected not, the novelty of such a shocking match being as much a draw as Gage’s good looks and charisma.

  The carriage slowed and Philip leaned forward to see farther out. “No comment?”

  “It’s true,” I finally replied. “I can’t refute that.”

  He lifted his eyebrows in gentle chastisement. “Then stop questioning Gage’s powers of perception. He knows what you are and what you aren’t capable of.”

  The carriage finally rolled to a stop. Philip helped me out and then escorted me up the steps and into the town house. Mrs. Pimms was coolly polite as she welcomed us to her home, and then I was left to my own devices as Philip separated from me at the door to the drawing room. I edged around the room in the opposite direction as he approached a small cluster of men gathered near the sideboard. I stiffened at the sight of Lord Gage standing on the fringes of the group, chatting with a viscount. If he was here, then I wondered . . .

  “Fancy meeting you here,” a deep voice drawled in my ear.

  I turned to find Gage looking down at me, a hesitant smile quirking the corners of his mouth. I was beginning to doubt I would ever cease being dazzled by his attractiveness. He was flawlessly turned out in his dark evening kit with a roguish blond curl draped over his forehead, artfully arranged by Anderley, no doubt.

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “I didn’t know you would be here,” I said softly. I hadn’t forgotten that our last meeting had ended in an argument with me fleeing his carriage. And I was nervous that tonight would end the same way.

  “I didn’t either.” He flicked a glance across the room. “My father believed I needed to socialize with a certain set of people.”

  I followed his gaze to the men gathered with Philip and lifted a hand to finger the gold trim of my Prussian blue gown. “I suppose one day you will be taking his seat in Parliament.”

  “Yes. I suppose I will,” he replied, though he didn’t sound particularly enthused about it.

  “Philip has become remarkably absorbed with it all,” I said, making awkward conversation.

  “Yes. The reform bill. Among other things.” He leaned closer to me, waiting for me to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he murmured remorsefully. “I shouldn’t have allowed things to end the way they did.”

  I flushed, still unsettled by the anger that had overcome us both, and keenly aware I was only going to make matters worse when I told him what I’d done. “I’m sorry, too.”

  His hand brushed against mine. “Perhaps we . . .”

  “Mr. Gage,” a smooth feminine voice crooned. “How lovely to see you.”

  He swiftly masked the annoyance I saw flare in the depths of his eyes with one of his carefully cultivated smiles, and swiveled to bow over Lady Jane Humphries’s proffered hand. “A pleasure, as always.”

  She tittered and I rolled my eyes.

  Gage’s pale blue eyes twinkled at me, letting me know he’d seen my reaction. “You’ve met my fiancée, Lady Darby.”

  Lady Jane’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Of course. Though I’m surprised you showed your face here.” Her large eyes blinked innocently. “I wouldn’t have the nerve.” When I stared at her in confusion, she leaned closer to mock whisper, “You know Mr. Pimms is great friends with Lord Drummond, and Mrs. Pimms used to be his paramour.”

  Only among the upper classes could two such contradictory things be uttered in the same sentence.

  “And now you’re accusing him of murdering his wife.” Lady Jane’s eyes were lit with spiteful glee. “It’s positively shocking.”

  “I’ve done no such thing,” I retorted. At least not publicly.

  “Where did you hear something so absurd?” Gage bantered, but I could hear the tension in his voice.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Lady Jane brushed his question off as if it were inconsequential. “But it’s all anyone can talk about.”

  I noticed now the cluster of women seated by the windows at the front of the house. They were all leaning together gossiping, and every once in a while one of them would throw a disapproving glance my way.

  I couldn’t stop my gaze from sliding toward Lord Gage. Our eyes locked, letting me know he was aware of my presence. Was he the one stirring up trouble for me? If so, why do it in such a way? Did he honestly think his son would fail to leap to my defense when he was just as involved in our inquiry into Lady Drummond’s death?

  He crossed the room to join us, showering Lady Jane with flowery compliments while he offered me only the tersest of greetings. Gage’s eyes drilled into his father, but Lord Gage paid him no heed.

  Instead he added fuel to the fire of Lady Jane’s avid curiosity by raking his gaze over me and remarking, “I didn’t know you were permitted in such circles. But I suppose having an earl for a brother-in-law covers any number of deficiencies.”

  “Sir,” Gage snapped.

  “Lord Cromarty has been very good to me,” I replied calmly, unwilling to let him intimidate me or goad me into behaving poorly, especially with Lady Jane looking on.

  “Yes, he has.” Lord Gage’s face screwed up as if he smelled something foul, and I silently wished it would freeze that way. “I suppose that’s why he’s pushing for a separate anatomy act, to make changes to the current laws. I imagine it would . . . relieve his conscience.”

  My eyes strayed toward where Philip was deep in conversation, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I didn’t know he was pursuing such a thing. I thought he was focused on the reform bill.”

  “Oh, he is. But little good he does being all the way up here in Edinburgh while they’re debating and voting on it in London.” His tone was harsh.

  I hadn’t realized how torn Philip must feel at the moment. I knew he would never even think of leaving Alana in her condition to travel to London, no matter the existing tensions in their marriage. But he still must feel some anxiety to fill his seat in Parliament at such a crucial time. I knew how strongly he believed in the need for election reform. He discussed it often enough.

  “You know very well why he’s in Edinburgh, sir,” Gage interjected before I could respond. “Let’s not make an issue of it.”

  Lady Jane turned to Lord Gage, her bright eyes expecting him to do just that.

  “Yes, he’s pandering to his wife.” Lord Gage sniffed in disapproval. “There’s a reason men are not involved in such things. He can hear of his child’s arrival just as easily by letter. It’s not as if he’s expecting his heir.”

  Rage spiked through me, but before I could defend my sister and brother-in-law, Gage stepped between us.

  “I happen to find Lord Cromarty’s devotion to his family quite commendable.” His eyes turned hard. “It’s too bad there aren’t more men like him. Willing to sacrifice as much for their hearth and home as they would their country and their own petty pursuits.”

  If I had not been looking at him, I might have missed it, for Lord Gage had the same ability to disguise his thoughts with a mask of indifference as his son, but I saw the lines tighten around his eyes as he internally flinched from the blow of Gage’s words. So the man did have a heart after all, for if he could be wounded, he could bleed. His gaze twitched to mine and then narrowed, displeased to discover I had witnessed his moment of weakness.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse us. There’s a portrait I know Lady Darby would like t
o see,” Gage intoned blandly, making it clear that he wasn’t so much eager to show me the painting as escape our present company.

  Nevertheless, he guided me down a flight of stairs to the hall beyond the dining room. The portrait was of little consequence and only mediocre quality, so I knew immediately that the true appeal was its location, far enough from the others to be private, but still in view of enough guests not to be improper. He stared up at it with his arms clasped behind his back and I joined him in his feigned inspection, waiting as he marshaled his emotions.

  I shook my head at the painter’s poor shading and sloppy arrangement of folds in the clothing. Rather than falling about her naturally, the skirt of the woman in the portrait looked as if it had been wadded up like a dirty handkerchief.

  “I must apologize for my father yet again,” Gage said. “That was abominably rude of him.”

  “You don’t need to do that, you know.”

  He glanced sideways at me.

  “Apologize for him,” I clarified, rocking back on my heels. “I know you don’t share his opinions.”

  He turned to face me more fully. “Yes, but I feel responsible for him.” His tone turned sardonic. “Or at least for inflicting him on you.”

  I tilted my head, anxiety fluttering in my abdomen. “Well, consider that when you hear what I’m about to tell you.”

  His expression lost what little humor it had. “What is that?”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m going to the Royal College of Surgeons tomorrow morning should you wish to join me, and then tomorrow night . . .” I braced for his reaction “. . . Bonnie Brock has agreed to take me to see the Chemist.”

  Red suffused his features and his jaw clenched. When he was able to speak, his voice was low with fury. “You contacted him even when I asked you not to.”

  I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest. “You didn’t ask. You commanded. I might have responded better to a request.”

  He turned back toward the painting. His expression was so black that had the woman depicted been alive, she would have surely cowered.