I knew it was a gentlewoman’s duty to note such things when considering a future spouse, but it rang hollow to hear Lady Stratford speak so. For despite all of their husbands’ supposed assets, she and Lady Drummond had both suffered horribly in their choice of mates.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked guardedly, trying to understand why she wouldn’t have shared such an important piece of information.
She pleated her hands in her lap. “I considered it. But then it seemed so clear that Lord Drummond was guilty. And I knew you were having difficulties with Lord Gage, and with your engagement to his son. I didn’t want to cause you further trouble.”
“But what about after I confided that Lord Drummond was no longer a suspect? Why didn’t you tell me then? Don’t you think this is something I should have known?” I inhaled, trying to settle myself. My voice had risen with my frustration, and my sense of betrayal.
“You’re right. I . . . I should have said something. I just . . .” She shook her head. “I only wanted to prevent further strain between you and Gage, but I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
I nodded, accepting her apology, though I still felt discontented. I could appreciate that she had been trying to save me from a confrontation that might have proved unnecessary, but in doing so she had also hindered our investigation and made me question whether she was keeping other pertinent information from me. Perhaps I was being too hard on her, but I’d had few friends in my life, and most of those had eventually proven themselves disloyal and untrustworthy. I was wary of such a thing happening again.
We ended our conversation cordially, but I began to wonder how long our newfound rapport would last.
• • •
“Do you see him?” I leaned over to murmur.
Gage continued to survey the elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen seated in the private boxes across from ours. “Not yet.” I hoped Lady Bearsden’s information had been correct. Otherwise our trip to the Theatre Royal would have been a waste of time. Not that I minded spending the evening with Gage. To the contrary, I would have loved to enjoy a quiet evening curled up beside him before the hearth in Philip and Alana’s drawing room. But I was also anxious to see this inquiry finished, especially now that I knew I was being followed.
Gage’s brow creased in frustration. “Are you sure Lady Bearsden is reliable?”
“Lady Stratford’s great-aunt is a notorious gossip, and apparently friends with the Dowager Duchess of Bowmont.” I nodded toward the Duke of Bowmont’s large box. “From the crowd in their box, it at least appears Lady Bearsden was right about the dowager wishing to celebrate her eighty-first birthday at the theater.” I frowned. “But I suppose it’s possible Lady Bearsden only assumed the dowager’s grandson would put in an appearance.”
I glanced about at the number of eyes that were fastened on our box instead of the play on the stage. Our presence in Philip’s box had not gone unnoticed, and neither would our conversation with Lord Henry Kerr, if he decided to attend. We would have to proceed carefully.
“There he is,” Gage announced.
“Where?”
“The level above his family’s box and two to the left.”
I followed his directions to the private box with two ladies seated at the front and a trio of gentlemen standing behind them at the back near the curtains. “Which one is he?”
“The man on the left with auburn hair.”
I narrowed my eyes. “The one in the striped waistcoat?”
“Yes.”
It was difficult to see from such a distance, but I thought I could understand the appeal. Although I suspected his personality had more to do with Lady Drummond’s attraction to him than his handsome face.
“How do you suggest we approach him?” I asked, ever conscious of being observed.
Gage flipped through the playbill in his lap. “Let’s wait a few more minutes until just before the interlude. Perhaps we can catch him as he leaves that box.”
I nodded, trying to settle in to enjoy the play. But my eyes and my thoughts kept straying toward the opposite side of theater to the man who may or may not have been Lady Drummond’s lover. Had he known how her husband was treating her? Had he cared enough to try to stop it? Or was she just a convenient flirtation? Whatever she meant to him, I knew that if Lady Drummond had embarked on an affair with him, it had been one of the heart. Had he reciprocated her emotions? Had they grown dark with possessiveness and jealousy?
Sensing my distraction, Gage reached over to take my hand in his warm one below the balcony edge, out of sight of the prying eyes of the ton. His thumb danced over the tops of my knuckles, and I returned the favor. My skin tingled with each pass of his thumb. It never ceased to amaze me how such a simple, innocent touch from him could arouse so much feeling in me, even through my glove. My pulse quickened as his little finger dipped inside the opening at my wrist to swirl over the delicate veins there.
I had never felt this excitement, this intensity, about anyone before. It was like a tide coming in, first lapping at my toes and then the tops of my feet and then my ankles. I could feel it pulling me deeper into the sea, and I wanted to let it, to allow Gage to do and show me what he wished. That we had to wait until our wedding night was a delicious torture, but one that at least I knew would eventually end.
But if I were in Lady Drummond’s shoes, if I had still been wed to another—a man like Lord Drummond or Sir Anthony—I could understand the temptation. Particularly because it wasn’t just a physical desire to connect, but a mental and emotional one as well. That Gage knew and accepted and loved me was an elixir even headier than his touch.
When the time came, and Gage pulled me to my feet, I found I was very anxious indeed to meet this Lord Henry. But not anxious enough to pull away when Gage dragged me into the small alcove at the back of the box, shielding us from the theater beyond, and thoroughly kissed me. By the time he stepped back, I’d nearly forgotten why we’d risen from our seats in the first place.
He smiled down at my bemused expression with masculine satisfaction. “I may have rumpled your . . .” He gestured toward my head.
I reached up to feel that a few strands of hair had fallen from their pins to stray down my back. “Oh,” I murmured, repinning them as best I could.
By the time we reached the boxes on the other side of the theater, the interlude had already begun. We wove through the people streaming out, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Fortunately, the box where Lord Henry had been standing was near the front of the theater, so there were few people milling about on that end of the hall. Which made it easy to spot Lord Henry when he strolled out of the box with his hands clasped behind his back, a serious look on his face.
“Lord Henry,” Gage addressed him quietly.
He stopped short upon seeing us, and then his shoulders dropped, almost as if he’d been resigned to this happening.
Gage glanced around to make sure we weren’t drawing too much attention. “Could we have a moment?”
He nodded and we stepped farther down the hall to stand in the shadows of the long drapes flanking a window.
“You know why we asked to speak to you?” Gage asked, having also noted his reaction.
The anguish that flashed in Lord Henry’s eyes for just a moment before being masked said volumes more than his words. “Lady Drummond.”
But was he pained because he cared for her, or because he’d been responsible for her death?
Gage studied the other man. “We have reason to believe the two of you were lovers.” His words were implacable, but almost gently spoken.
“Not lovers. Not . . . in that sense.” His brow furrowed as if recalling something painful. “But, yes. We were . . . close.”
“You understand we’re investigating her murder?”
Lord Henry flinched at the word.
“S
o you’ll appreciate we have to ask some difficult questions.”
He nodded.
Gage tilted his head. “How long had your liaison with Lady Drummond been going on?”
He frowned. “It wasn’t a liaison. It wasn’t like that.”
Gage arched his eyebrows, waiting for the answer to his question.
Lord Henry sighed. “Nine months. Maybe longer.”
That long? And Lady Drummond had been able to keep it secret from even her dearest friends?
Gage seemed to have the same thought. “And you had not yet become intimate? Who resisted?”
“She did. She . . .” He pushed a hand through his hair. “She didn’t want to betray her marriage vows.” His face became hard. “Even though her husband was a rotten blackguard.”
“That must have made you mad?”
Lord Henry shook his head, staring off into the distance. “Not mad. Frustrated, yes. But not mad. How could I? It was one of the many reasons I loved her.” His expression tightened, and he seemed shaken by either the confession or the realization that she was gone.
“So you didn’t poison her in a fit of jealous rage because she wouldn’t leave her husband?”
I turned to look at Gage, surprised by the blunt casualness of his comment.
Lord Henry scowled, but did not rise to the bait. “No,” he answered firmly.
Gage scrutinized the man and then nodded. “Then do you have any idea who might have wanted to harm her?”
His mouth twisted. “I suppose you’re already investigating Lord Drummond.”
“His name has been mentioned one or two times,” he replied vaguely, but tellingly. “Did he know about his wife’s relationship with you?”
Lord Henry’s expression turned grave. “I hope not.”
There was no need to elaborate. We all knew how Lord Drummond would have reacted.
“Not that I’m surprised, given your reputation, but may I ask, how did you find out about us? We were so discreet.” His eyes were stark. “We couldn’t risk it.”
Gage glanced at me.
“Lady Rachel Radcliffe thought there might have been something between you,” I told him.
His mouth tightened. “Of course.”
Gage’s eyes met mine.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Because Lady Rachel was perhaps Lady Drummond’s closest friend. And yet, Lady Drummond insisted we be cautious around her. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed almost as if she was as worried about Lady Rachel finding out as she was her husband.”
That was curious. “Do you know why? Was she afraid Lady Rachel wouldn’t keep your secret?”
He considered my question. “I don’t know. But I sensed her friend was privy to other confidences, so that doesn’t seem right.” He inhaled as if he had a sudden thought. “I did notice that things seemed to be strained between them during the week or two before . . .” He swallowed.
“Strained how?”
“Just small things. Little hesitations. Tight smiles.” He paused as a couple strolled passed us. The interlude must have been nearing its end. “I don’t think I would have noticed if I hadn’t been so attentive to Lady Drummond’s every word and action.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was just a small disagreement. The type friends have all the time. But I did note it.”
“Thank you,” Gage told him. “Even the littlest things can sometimes help solve an inquiry, but we won’t know until the full picture is formed.”
Lord Henry nodded, waiting once again as a trio of ladies walked by, observing us with undisguised interest. Once they had passed out of hearing range, he leaned in closer to Gage. “You will catch whoever did this, won’t you?” His eyes burned with intensity. “You will see that they pay for what they did to Lady Drummond?”
He nodded. “We will do our best.”
Lord Henry looked as if he wanted to argue, but in the end he simply bobbed his head and turned away.
We stood for a moment, watching him go.
“If Lord Drummond had been the one poisoned, we would be having the exact opposite problem,” Gage muttered. “Far too many suspects. And I would have put him at the top of the list.”
“But he didn’t harm Lady Drummond,” I stated.
“No. He didn’t do that,” Gage agreed. His attention shifted to me. “Did you wish to see the rest of the play?”
I thought of the pleasant interlude we’d enjoyed in the box before venturing out to find Lord Henry. But there were far less public places for us to appreciate each other’s company. My cheeks became flushed in anticipation. “No.”
A twinkle entered Gage’s eyes, letting me know he suspected where my wayward thoughts had gone. “Then let’s go. We can discuss the inquiry and . . . other things better elsewhere.”
He took my arm and we began to weave our way toward the exit against the flow of audience members returning to their boxes and seats. He was right. We did need to discuss the inquiry first. In particular, I still needed to tell him what I’d learned about his father. Though I suspected after I told him, he might not be so eager to return to other pursuits. But he needed to know. Lord Gage had to be confronted, sooner rather than later.
I debated the best way to tell him as we descended the stairs toward the lobby and went to collect our outer garments. Gage was helping me into my pewter gray cloak to match my tarnished silver dress when one of the porters hurried toward us, his heels rapping against the floor tiles.
“Lady Darby?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”
He sighed in relief and held out a letter. “This was delivered for you.”
I stared at it a moment, feeling alarm race through my veins. I snatched the letter out of his hand.
“Thank you,” Gage told him as I broke open the seal. “What is it?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder to try to read. “Your sister?”
It took me a moment to respond, for that was exactly what I had thought the missive was about. “It’s . . . from Bonnie Brock.”
He reached out to take it from me, reading the same words I had.
Maggie is in trouble. Come to the White Hart Inn at Grassmarket. My men will meet you.
BB
“Well, of course we aren’t going.”
I glared at him. “Of course we are.” I pulled the letter from his hands and refolded it.
“Don’t be foolish, Kiera,” he reasoned, following me across the lobby. He threaded his arm through mine, slowing my steps. “You owe this man nothing.”
“No,” I agreed. “But if he was desperate enough to send me a note, then his sister must truly be in distress. I’m not going to just ignore that.”
He ducked his head against the wind, holding his hat on his head. “But why on earth should he send for you? The man isn’t to be trusted. He may mean you harm.”
I waited until the footman had helped me up into Gage’s carriage and Gage had settled in beside me before I replied, “Because Maggie recently lost a baby.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped as he grasped the implications.
I straightened my skirts, tugging at the pleating. “He admitted he’s concerned for her. She’s been low in spirits and health. If he thinks I can help, then I’m not going to turn away.”
Gage’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “When did he tell you all of this?”
I ran my hand over the embroidery, trying to decide whether I could lie, and if I should. I sighed, electing for honesty. “He came to see me yesterday.”
“Kiera,” Gage growled in a low voice.
“I was walking home from Lady Rachel’s and he appeared out of nowhere,” I snapped. “What was I supposed to do? Scream for help?”
His expression was thunderous. “You should have told me.”
I turned to stare o
ut the window at the darkened street. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“How often does he take you for an afternoon stroll?”
I scowled at his sarcastic tone. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
“I don’t know.”
I huffed. “Think what you want. But I’m going to Grassmarket with or without you.” I glowered at the seat in front of me, before grudgingly adding, “But I would rather you come with me.”
Gage was silent a moment longer, and then thumped the roof of the carriage with his fist.
I inhaled in relief as he gave directions to his coachman. Much as I wanted to be sure Maggie was well, I didn’t really want to descend into that part of Old Edinburgh alone. Grassmarket, which ended on the west side at West Port, had been the haunt of Burke and Hare, and was currently the hangout for any number of criminals.
We rode in silence as the carriage turned left to climb up the hill to Old Town and then sharply descended toward the Grassmarket. Grassmarket sat in a hollow directly below the south side of the castle. The shambles stood at the west end of the market where traders and cattle drovers gathered, while the remainder of the wide street was lined with inns, taverns, and lodging houses.
The smell was something to be avoided at all cost, a mixture of the caustic scents of pitch and hemp and dye, and butchered animals. I journeyed here from time to time on market days to purchase linseed oil and other paint supplies, and always left as quickly as I could. But aside from the other night, I’d never ventured into this part of the city after dark. From the grim look of anticipation on Gage’s face, I suspected he had.
He ordered his carriage to let us out at the east end of the market and wait for us there. As I climbed from the coach, he tugged my cloak tighter around me, hiding my gown, and instructed me to tuck my mother’s pendant down my bodice. I did as I was told, even removing the jeweled comb from my hair and placing it inside the inner pocket on my cloak. Once he was satisfied I looked as inconspicuous as possible, he pulled me close to his side and we set off down the street.
A Study in Death (Lady Darby Mystery, A Book 4) Page 25