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

by Anna Lee Huber

She tilted her head. “Yes. He did ascend to his father’s title, didn’t he?”

  I scowled. I didn’t know why I was so surprised. If Lord Kirkcowan was capable of paupering himself and his family by gambling away his property, he was certainly capable of making ludicrous bets. What I found most curious was that Lady Kirkcowan could be friends with Lady Drummond even knowing her husband had once courted her. But maybe she didn’t know. Or maybe she wished now that the other woman had said yes and saved her the heartache.

  Regardless, it was worth questioning both Lord and Lady Kirkcowan. We had no better suspects, and people had committed murder for stranger reasons.

  CHAPTER 23

  Gage’s carriage slowed to a stop, and I lifted the curtain aside to see outside. We were still several blocks from the Assembly Rooms, and I could only assume we were waiting in the line of coaches queued up to deliver their passengers at the doors. Closing my eyes, I relaxed back into the cushions, grateful for the momentary reprieve.

  Gage and I had spent all afternoon calling on those who had visited Drummond House in the weeks leading up to Lady Drummond’s murder. It had been an exercise in futility, as no one we had seen thus far had anything of value to tell us. And perhaps worse, none of them struck either of us as a viable suspect. Though there had been a few I wouldn’t have minded accusing of such a horrible act simply because of their rudeness.

  I had returned to Charlotte Square with barely enough time to bathe and dress before Gage came back for me. Originally we had not planned to attend tonight’s assembly, but when we realized how long each of these individual interviews was taking, we decided we could proceed faster if we went to a place where a large portion of the Drummond House visitors, as well as Lord and Lady Kirkcowan, were known to gather.

  But now, feeling a headache building behind my eyes, I wished we’d elected to enjoy a quiet dinner at Cromarty House instead. Although, with Alana confined to her bed and Philip sure to be absent, such an intimate meal would not have been strictly proper. I frowned, remembering my and Philip’s conversation, or rather, lack of conversation, the prior evening. I had not seen him since then, but I had heard him moving about in the guest room the night before when he returned from his dinner.

  “Kiera.”

  I blinked open my eyes to find Gage looking at me in concern.

  “Is something wrong? You were scowling.”

  “Was I? Just a headache.” I let my head sink back again.

  “Are you sure? You’ve seemed a bit distracted all day.” His mouth flattened. “Even before Mrs. Coon snubbed you.”

  I studied his handsome face, debating whether to say anything. At first, I had elected to remain quiet, out of respect for Philip, but after last night’s dismissal, I was no longer certain that was the best course. I didn’t want to betray my brother-in-law or his privacy, but I was troubled, and apprehensive that if I didn’t find a way to intercede, things would get worse.

  “You’ve known Philip a long time?” I began tentatively.

  “Since university. Why?”

  I ran a hand over the folds of my claret red gown with black braid. “Did he often get deep into his cups?”

  “Occasionally. But all young men do. It’s almost a rite.”

  “And later?”

  “Well, he was something of a rakehell when we first went up to London. But you know that. Your sister teases him about it often enough.”

  I nodded. “How she reformed him.”

  Gage shifted in his seat, adjusting the tails of his coat. “I don’t think there was really much she needed to reform. Cromarty always had the makings of a devoted husband and father; he simply needed to meet the right woman. But yes.” He studied my face more closely. “Why are you asking this? What is going on?”

  “What about in the last year?” I asked, ignoring his query. “Have you known him to get foxed?”

  “No.” His response was drawn out.

  I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I thought not.”

  “Kiera, has Philip been drinking heavily?”

  I pressed my lips together, still hesitant to say, and then plunged in. “Just the once. The other night. I . . .” my voice lowered to a whisper “. . . I’ve never seen him that way before. He . . .” I pressed my lips together again.

  Gage’s brow furrowed. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Oh, no,” I assured him. “No. He . . . he seemed so despondent. I didn’t know what to do. He scarcely spends any time with Alana now. He’s always busy with political matters or attending meetings and dinners. He moved into the guest room because he said he’s afraid of jostling or disturbing her and the baby.” Once I began to speak, it all seemed to come pouring out. “I can see how much it hurts Alana, but I don’t know what to say or do to fix it.”

  Gage had taken hold of my hand sometime in the middle of my speech, and he squeezed it now. “There may be nothing you can do.”

  “But why is he doing this? Why is he turning away from her?” I pleaded.

  His eyes dropped to where our hands were linked, and he ran his thumb gently over the back of my fingers. “I think Cromarty may be frightened.”

  “We all are,” I protested.

  “Yes, but as painful as it would be for you to lose your sister, think of how much worse it would be for him to lose his wife. His wife whom he adores, who’s given him three, and now four children.” His eyes stared into mine earnestly. “If I were in his place, watching you struggle to birth our child, I would be terrified, too. Especially in Cromarty’s situation. He was warned his wife shouldn’t have any more children. He must wonder if he could have taken better precautions.”

  This silenced me. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Philip always seemed so strong, so sure, but of course he would be frightened. However, it didn’t excuse his actions. “But he was so calm and steady when Alana struggled to give birth to Greer. He’s faced this before,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, but that was a shock. He didn’t have time to contemplate what it would mean if your sister died. This time he’s had months to do so.”

  I frowned. “Then why isn’t he spending every available moment with her? Why is he avoiding her?”

  Gage’s lips curled in a tight, humorless smile. “I suppose he thinks it will make it easier should the worst happen.”

  I considered what he said. “That’s stupid. He’s going to feel worse when he realizes he squandered his last few weeks with her. That he essentially abandoned the woman he loves when she needed him most.”

  He did not scold me for my display of temper. “I agree. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  I heaved a sigh. “No. I should.” I scowled. “And give him a swift slap on the head to go with it.”

  The carriage inched forward another few feet, and I lifted the curtain to see we were just a half a block away. I turned to see Gage staring out the opposite window. His hand still clasped mine. “Thank you.”

  He looked at me in question.

  “For listening. For explaining.” My eyes dropped. “I don’t always understand when it comes to matters of the heart. I guess at some point I stopped wanting to. It was easier that way. So I’m a bit behind in my education.”

  Gage squeezed my fingers. “I’m happy to educate you anytime.” His voice lowered as his gaze dipped to my lips. “About anything.”

  “We’re almost to the door,” I gasped softly. “The footmen will see.”

  “Let them.”

  And so I emerged from Gage’s carriage for the second time that year with a flushed countenance and bright eyes, the first having happened during our investigation in January. The footmen employed at the Assembly Rooms were going to begin to think I was suffering from some sort of illness. One I was happy to have contracted.

  Gage and I climbed the wide sweeping stairs inside as if marching into battle. We’d elected
to divide and conquer, agreeing to separate and approach the witnesses on our own. Those who would not talk to us here, or in my case, at all, we would pay visits to at a later date if necessary. The one exception was Lord Kirkcowan, whom Gage had agreed to corner and bring to me so we might both question him.

  I circulated through the rooms on the left while Gage moved right. I did my best to ignore the titters and poorly disguised gossiping that followed in my wake, but it was impossible not to see them. Whoever had renewed the rumors about me had clearly done their best, and I was starting to doubt it had been Lord Gage. Not that he wasn’t capable, or even motivated. This just seemed much more of a woman’s game. Thus far all of Lord Gage’s other attacks had been direct, and this was far more cunning.

  I circled the rooms, gathering very little useful information until I stumbled upon Lady Kirkcowan. She smiled politely when we crossed paths with one each other in the hall outside the room where couples were dancing, a contrast to her begrudging reception at Inverleith House. Her skin was paler than the last time I’d seen her, her eyes sadder. Her gown was a beautiful shade of gold just slightly deeper than her eyes, but rather than enhance her handsome looks, it outshone her, as well as the strand of pearls around her neck.

  I wanted to ask her about her jewelry, whether she’d found a way to make it miraculously reappear, but I could tell from the wary look in her eyes that was the last thing she wanted to talk about. So instead I turned to the topic for which I’d sought her out. I knew it might be just as painful, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “You’ve heard?” I murmured. Our steps turned toward the window at the end of the hall, away from the crowd.

  “That Lady Drummond was poisoned? Yes.”

  I had known that once Gage and I began questioning potential witnesses and suspects that afternoon, word of the baroness’s murder would spread like wildfire. The entire assemblage here tonight probably already knew. This should have brought me vindication, but I had learned not to count on society’s conscience.

  “Then you realize Mr. Gage and I are investigating.”

  She nodded. “Though I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

  “I’m afraid we have few suspects,” I began carefully. “I know you believed Lord Drummond capable of it, but from everything we’ve uncovered, it appears unlikely. So we’re forced to turn elsewhere, to pursue every possible motive.”

  We had reached the end of the hall and she turned to face me. “You’re speaking of how my husband courted Lady Drummond before me, aren’t you?”

  I searched her flat golden eyes for any sign of nervousness or distress. “Partially.”

  “We were friends, so of course I knew about it,” she readily admitted. “And to be honest, I don’t know that I would have been at all interested in him if it hadn’t been for the fact that Lady Drummond had considered him for a potential husband. Yes, yes, I knew about his silly wager.” She frowned. “Or, at least, that’s how he categorized it to me then. Just a folly of youth.” She sighed. “I wish I’d known better.”

  “I was told he treated Lady Drummond rather poorly when she refused him.”

  “He did. But later he offered her a very pretty apology. And when he first began to pursue me, she gave me her blessing, saying she trusted he’d learned from his mistakes.” Her brow furrowed, obviously thinking of how false this statement had proved to be.

  I wasn’t surprised by how forgiving Lady Drummond had been. It seemed just like her.

  “Did you resent her for any of this?”

  Lady Kirkcowan looked up at me in surprise. “Not in the least. It’s not her fault Lord Kirkcowan married me for my dowry.” A little pleat formed between her brows. “I’m the one who should have known better when he confided in me that the only reason he’d courted Lady Drummond was for that exact reason. He meant to flatter and appease me, and I was easily blinded by praise.” She turned to stare down the hall at the milling crowd not so far away, their voices providing a humming accompaniment to our conversation. “As far as I know, the only things my husband has ever truly cared for are cards and horses, and anything else he can bet on,” she muttered.

  “Speaking of which,” I interjected, glad for the opening she’d provided, “were you aware that your husband recently placed another bet regarding Lady Drummond?”

  Her eyes widened in genuine surprise. “About?”

  “Whether she would take a lover before midsummer’s eve. Apparently he wagered she would not.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor and she pressed her fingertips over her mouth as if she might be ill.

  “Lady Kirkcowan?” I said in concern.

  “I . . .” she swallowed “. . . I may have let slip that she was considering doing so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We were arguing. I made some threats about taking a lover so that I could have some nice things again. He . . .” her voice shook “. . . he said some rather nasty things back to me. And I said that even paragons like Lady Drummond considered such things.”

  So once again Lord Kirkcowan had been in danger of losing a wager he had placed on Lady Drummond.

  “Did your husband react?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was so angry, I don’t think I really paid attention.” She paused to consider. “He did leave the house soon after. But I don’t know where he went.”

  I reached out to still her pleating hands. “Do you think your husband would have been capable of murdering Lady Drummond just to win a bet?”

  Her eyes were troubled. “I want to say no. It’s so completely ridiculous. But . . . we don’t have much left.” Her voice dropped to a hushed murmur. “He lost our house in Ayrshire just last week. There’s going to be nothing left for my son to inherit but an empty title.” I could hear the panic in her voice she was struggling to contain.

  I clenched my fists in anger. “Has he sold your jewels?”

  “Not yet.”

  But it was only a matter of time. He would need something to wager next.

  An acquaintance of Lady Kirkcowan’s saw us and called out her name. We both pasted on fake smiles. The other woman chatted away, seeming oblivious to the strain behind Lady Kirkcowan’s eyes that seemed so obvious to me. Or perhaps her friend simply didn’t wish to see it.

  I excused myself, promising to call on Lady Kirkcowan. More than ever, I was determined to do something to help her, though what that was, I still didn’t know.

  • • •

  Lord Kirkcowan proved not as easy to converse with as his wife. Gage had to almost forcefully drag him away from a game of vingt-et-un, even though he’d waited for nearly an hour for Lord Kirkcowan to come back from a deficit and break even.

  “Now, see here,” I heard him snarl as Gage pulled him into the alcove where I sat waiting for them. “I was about to be plump in the pockets. You just cost me an untold amount of blunt.”

  “I just saved you from losing what brass you have again,” Gage snapped, releasing his arm with a shove. “The little good that will do. You’re determined to have pockets to let.”

  Lord Kirkcowan reached up to swipe at his sleeve, straightening it. “What do you want?”

  “For you to develop some common sense,” Gage drawled, looking him up and down like he was an insect. “But as that’s not likely to happen, we’ll be satisfied with your answers to our questions.”

  He scowled and then glanced about, seeing me for the first time. “Is this about my wife’s jewelry? I already told your father she found it. Apparently she’d forgotten she hid it in her dresser the night our butler was ill and she didn’t want to disturb him to open the safe.”

  A plausible excuse, though it appeared her husband didn’t believe it.

  “No,” Gage replied in a hard voice. “It’s about Lady Drummond’s murder.”

  “Oh, yes. I he
ard someone nattering on about that. What’s it to do with me?”

  “It seems you made a wager many years ago when you were courting Lady Drummond that she would agree to marry you, and when she declined, you lost a significant amount of money.”

  Lord Kirkcowan’s jaw tightened. “I remember.”

  “Well, it’s come to our attention that you recently made another wager. This one also concerning Lady Drummond. That she wouldn’t take a lover before midsummer’s eve. And we’ve discovered you knew you were about to lose that bet. Except she was poisoned before that could happen. Convenient, yes?”

  Lord Kirkcowan’s lips twisted into a nasty sneer. “Ah, but you’re missing one crucial piece of information. I made a second bet. This one for double the amount I wagered before. But this time I bet that she would take a lover.” He nodded toward the gaming room. “Ask Mr. Pimms. He’s still trying to collect, even though the lady is dead. If anything, I’ve lost money from her being murdered, not gained.”

  I bit back a curse. I despised Lord Kirkcowan. He was a mean, selfish oaf. But that didn’t make him guilty of murder, no matter how much I would have liked to see him detained. Lady Kirkcowan and her children would face scandal, but at least they would be able to keep the remaining property they had.

  “Now, if there’s nothing else you’d like to accuse me of . . .” He squared his shoulders and marched out of the alcove.

  Gage didn’t try to stop him, though I could tell he wished to do the other man some kind of bodily harm. “We’re back to where we started,” he muttered in frustration.

  I sighed.

  CHAPTER 24

  I decided to call on Lady Rachel again the next day in hopes she might be able to point me in another direction. There seemed no better option, except to continue our interviews of the visitors to Drummond House, something I was not the least enthused about.

  At first Lady Rachel was resistant to consider anyone else but Lord Drummond. “You’re certain it wasn’t him?” she demanded, lounging on the ivory fainting couch in her upstairs parlor. Her eyes were sharp with persistence.