A Stroke of Malice

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A Stroke of Malice Page 20

by Anna Lee Huber


  Her mouth drooped and her gaze turned wounded, and it was all I could do not to snarl at her. She had no right to feel wounded. I was the one who had been insulted. But neither Philip nor Trevor seemed to understand that.

  My brother-in-law’s features were tight as he rounded the bed toward his wife. “Come, Alana.”

  She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, her eyes locked with mine. It was only when Philip pulled her toward the door that her gaze dropped.

  Trevor followed soon after, aiming a black scowl at me. “I’m not leaving Sunlaws, so you can hold your tongue if you’re thinking of trying to get rid of me as well. And don’t try to tell me you slipped down those stairs.” He leaned closer to jeer as he passed the bed. “I know better. You’re as fleet of foot as a deer, Kiera. And always have been.” The door slammed behind him.

  I stewed, glaring at my feet for several seconds before lifting my gaze to Gage’s. His expression was maddeningly veiled, which could mean only one thing. He did not approve of what I’d done.

  I pulled the sling over my neck and off my arm, tossing it aside as I sank lower in the bed.

  “Are you in pain?” Gage murmured. “Or was all of that the laudanum talking?”

  I narrowed my eyes to slits, gesturing to my abdomen. “Or perhaps it’s a result of my condition. Aren’t women in my state prone to overexcitement and irrational behavior?” I sneered, repeating one of the infractions the physician had charged me with the night before as he examined me.

  He crossed to the left side of the bed and lay down beside me, crossing his booted feet at the heels and clasping his hands over his flat stomach. “I would have liked to draw that man’s cork, but seeing how he was ensuring my wife and child had not suffered greater injury, I decided I should refrain.”

  I turned to look at him, some of my anger dissipating at his acknowledgment that the physician had been rude and condescending. However, that did not mean I was going to let his earlier comment pass without question. “Don’t tell me you weren’t offended by Alana’s criticisms. I saw that you were.”

  He frowned up at the bed curtains. “I didn’t like it, no. But I recognize she meant well. She simply didn’t phrase her concerns in the best manner.”

  “Do you agree with her?” I demanded to know.

  He turned his head on the pillow to look at me. “We’ve discussed this. You know I do not.”

  “But perhaps you’ve changed your mind.” I could hear the anxiety fraying the edges of my voice, but I couldn’t do anything to control it.

  “I haven’t.” Rolling his long body onto his side next to me, he propped his head on his arm so he could gaze down at me. “Kiera,” he began hesitantly, lifting his other hand to trail his fingers over my cheek. “I know you’re nervous, I know you’re uncertain, but that doesn’t mean I am.” His eyes gleamed with affection. “I know you will be a wonderful mother. You’ll paint. We’ll investigate. Or we won’t. There don’t have to be any absolutes.” His fingers slid around my neck to cup my head. “But I promise you, I will not dictate what matters you can pursue. I know most men believe that is their right, but I’m perfectly aware you have a mind of your own.” His mouth curled into a smile. “And I wouldn’t change that for the world, even when it exasperates and terrifies me.”

  My heart tumbled over in my chest and my skin flushed with warmth. My fingers tingled with the need to touch him, and I lifted my left hand to brush them over his smoothly shaven jaw. Urging him closer, the only word I could manage was to breathe his name. “Sebastian.”

  His lips met mine, tentatively probing. Until I drew his full lower lip into my mouth before playfully nipping it. Then his mouth captured mine with more insistence. I gave myself over to the slide of his tongue against mine, the heat of his mouth. He tasted of tea and tooth powder and Gage. My breathing quickened as the urgency to be even closer built within me.

  I buried my fingers in his soft hair, and began to lift my other arm to do the same, when pain shot through me. I inhaled a swift hissing breath, and he leveraged himself off me, gazing down at me in concern.

  “Did I hurt you?” he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  I grimaced, shaking my head. “I tried to lift my right arm too far.”

  He rolled to the side, flopping onto his back as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I suppose I should restrain myself. At least until your shoulder and those bruises heal.”

  “It’s as much my fault as yours,” I replied, trying to resettle my shoulder comfortably. I glanced sideways at him. “You are rather difficult to resist.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve noticed how anger seems to increase your ardor. Which therefore increases mine.” He grinned playfully. “It’s the way your eyes flash. Yes, just like that.” He rolled to the side to face me again, lifting a finger to press it to the downturned corner of my mouth. “Now, don’t scowl. I’m paying you a compliment.”

  “Is that what that was?” I murmured drily. But with Gage gazing at me with such adorable insistence, my mouth was helpless not to twitch upward. I sighed in mock aggravation. “Oh, very well. You’re far too charming for your own good, you know.”

  He caught hold of my left hand where I poked him in the chest. “So I’ve been told. But seriously, Kiera.” His expression sobered. “Don’t let your own misgivings rile you to lash out in anger. You don’t have to heed to your family’s wishes any more than you have to regard all that ridiculous advice about childbirth those busybodies were offering you last night in the drawing room.”

  “It was no worse than the folderol they used to inundate Alana with,” I demurred.

  “Perhaps. But you can’t tell me their unsolicited counsel did not annoy you. I could read quite clearly in your eyes that it did. And yet you didn’t lash out at them.”

  I frowned, uncomfortably aware that he was right.

  He squeezed my hand where he still clutched it, pulling my gaze back to his. “I don’t know why it’s so much harder to mind the sharp edges of our tongues with those we love than with strangers, but heaven knows it’s true. My father is the prime example.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear Gage admit that he knew his father loved him despite all evidence to the contrary, but I was. Maybe because he’d never done so out loud before. I blamed that on my delay in making the unhappy realization that he’d just compared my recent actions to those of his disdainful and disapproving father. But before I could disagree, he lowered his face so that he was speaking to me only inches from mine.

  “You may wish to pretend your sister’s presence isn’t necessary, but I know you’re going to want and need her in the months coming. I will be here to do all I can, but I would be a fool not to comprehend that in matters of childbirth there are some things a woman would be better able to understand and advise upon. Especially one who’s already given birth four times.”

  He was right again, of course. One of the other reasons I wished to give birth in Edinburgh was so that Alana could be near. I was relying on her to help me. But what if we were still angry with each other? What if we weren’t speaking?

  “Best to heal any rift before it can grow too wide,” Gage counseled, correctly interpreting my thoughts. “Or before it causes you needless worry.”

  I wanted to retort that she had been the one mainly in the wrong. That it should be her responsibility to apologize first. But Alana had never been one to easily admit her mistakes. I blamed it on her being the oldest, and the fact that our mother had died when she was only twelve, forcing her to take on a more maternal role to Trevor and particularly me. So I heaved an aggrieved sigh and nodded. I wanted to ask her what she’d stopped herself from telling me in the guardroom the day before anyway. Unless it had been an earlier urge to caution me about the investigation.

  He smiled and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’ll send her to you.”

 
“And what are you planning to do?” I asked as he rose from the bed.

  “I am going to pay a visit to Mrs. Blanchard and see if I might be able to ferret out the reason for the animosity between her and Traquair,” he replied, adjusting his cuffs. “And then I’m going to set about locating this Colum Brunton who is missing from the brewery.”

  “Then perhaps you should wear your forest green frock coat instead.”

  He looked at me in question, obviously trying to understand why I would suggest he switch from his sapphire tailcoat to the knee-length, double-breasted garment. Comprehension dawned in his eyes. “I see. So that Mrs. Blanchard won’t be able to ogle so many of my . . .” his eyebrows arched in amusement “. . . attributes.”

  “Yes, well, there’s no need to allow her to covet any more of the artwork than is necessary.”

  Gage threw his head back and gave a shout of laughter.

  My lips curled at one corner. He could guffaw all he wanted. I was simply glad he was at least wearing trousers. The sight of him up close in his skintight pantaloons was more than I wanted to share with the duke’s mistress.

  His gaze met mine, evidently deducing the direction of my thoughts, for a soft flush of color crested his cheekbones. “I shall take that as my cue to leave, for if I stand here with you continuing to gaze at me like that for much longer, I won’t be able to continue to restrain myself as I must.”

  I grinned broadly, pleased with myself for being the one to cause him to blush for a change.

  A few minutes after his departure, there was a knock on the door. Expecting it to be my sister, I called out for her to enter, and attempted to adopt a contrite expression. However, I was not greeted by Alana’s wary, affronted visage, but Charlotte’s anxious one. She gasped and fretted over the dressing wrapped around my shoulder to stabilize it, barely allowing me to get a word in edgewise.

  “For goodness’ sake, Charlotte,” her great-aunt, Lady Bearsden chided as she hobbled through the door after her, leaning on the gold figurehead of her cane. “Allow her some space to breathe.” She sank into the chair Bree had positioned near the bed with a wheeze. “I told you she wasn’t in life-threatening danger.” Her gaze softened as she turned to me. “Though I am glad to hear the babe also seems to have suffered no ill effects.”

  “Thank you,” I told them both as Charlotte perched on the edge of the bed. I took in the sight of her in a stunning rose pink carriage dress. “Are you two also departing before the snow sets in?”

  “Yes. Unless you need us?” Charlotte leaned forward to ask.

  “Thank you, but my brother is remaining, so with his and Gage’s assistance, as well as that of my maid, I believe I shall be well cared for.”

  “Oh, undoubtedly. Mr. Gage appears to dote on you, my dear.” Lady Bearsden nodded her head decisively. “As he should.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked, trying to sit higher on the bed.

  Charlotte reached out to help me adjust the pillows. “Just as far as Auntie’s estate outside of Glasgow.” Her gaze shifted to meet mine meaningfully. “Rye is accompanying us.”

  “Then . . . ?”

  She nodded, a private smile curling her lips. “I’m going to marry him.”

  I was pleased to hear the determination ringing in her voice.

  “I’m so glad.”

  She pinkened at my approval, and beyond her shoulder I could see Lady Bearsden watching us with fondness.

  Charlotte continued to fuss with my pillows. “Nothing too elaborate. Something small and private, like your and Gage’s nuptials.”

  “In Edinburgh?”

  “Maybe.” She nibbled one corner of her lip. “Rye mentioned us possibly being wed from his great-uncle’s estate. I gathered it might be important to him.”

  I would not have guessed such a thing would matter a great deal to my cousin. “Maybe he’s thinking of his children,” I suggested, realizing how much of an adjustment it would be for them. “They are familiar with Barbreck Manor.” Rye’s father, my uncle Dunstan, was the nephew and heir of the bachelor Marquess of Barbreck, so the family spent a great deal of time at his properties. “And the isles are lovely in the summer. Have you visited?”

  Her gaze jerked back to mine from where it had trailed away in thought. “No, but he suggested doing so. Maybe we’ll travel on to there from Glasgow.”

  “Then I suggest waiting until you’ve seen it before you decide.”

  The pleats in her brow smoothed away. “I will. But wherever it is, will you do me the honor of standing up with me?”

  I was so touched that she should ask, that it took me a moment to find my words. “Of course. I-I would be happy to.”

  She beamed, grabbing for my hand where it lay braced on the little shelf created by my ever-growing abdomen.

  Bree slipped through the door at that moment carrying a tray. “I beg yer pardon,” she said, dipping into a brief curtsy. “But ’tis time for her ladyship’s medicine.”

  “Then I shall go.” Charlotte squeezed my fingers before leaping to her feet. “I’ll write you when we arrive safely.”

  “Yes, please.”

  She turned toward her great-aunt, who remained in her chair with no sign she intended to move anytime soon. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” she told her niece.

  Charlotte nodded uncertainly, but then shrugged and swept from the room with a last goodbye.

  Lady Bearsden waited silently as Bree set the tea tray on the table beside the bed and helped me recline in a more upright position. She arched her eyebrows in gentle chastisement at the sight of my discarded sling, before helping me to loop it around my neck and slide my arm into it. Then she removed the bottle of laudanum from her pocket and gave me a small dose of the sickly sweet syrup before passing me a glass of water. She poured me a cup of tea, prepared with sugar and cream as I liked it, and handed it to me in its saucer to balance on my stomach.

  “Shall I bring another cup for yer ladyship?” she turned her head to ask my guest.

  Lady Bearsden shook her head. “I never drink before carriage trips.”

  I thanked Bree and then dismissed her, eager to hear what Lady Bearsden had to say. After all, I had been making my way to speak with her and the Dowager Duchess of Bowmont the evening before when my accident occurred.

  Lady Bearsden, however, appeared to have other matters on her mind first. She watched Bree, waiting until the door had closed firmly behind her before she spoke. “That’s your maid.” Her voice was rife with speculation. “Well, then, that makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?” I asked in confusion.

  “Oh, I heard about the altercation between her and your husband’s manservant.” Her eyes twinkled with incorrigible delight. “My maid said it was quite the row.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It was?” I felt rather stupid sitting there blinking at her like a bird-witted fool, but while I’d gathered there had been some sort of disagreement between Bree and Anderley, I had not anticipated it being such public knowledge.

  She nodded sagely. “Apparently, the valet took exception to your maid dancing with a certain member of the duke’s staff, and when he warned the fellow away, she took exception to his interference.”

  I frowned down at my tea, for neither display seemed to be in character, especially not in such a public manner. “But why did you say it all made sense after seeing my maid?”

  “Why, because she’s rather a fetching young thing.”

  I supposed that was true. I’d often noted myself how appealing she was, particularly when she was in high spirits.

  “And there isn’t a gentlewoman in all of Britain who doesn’t know about Mr. Gage’s delightful valet.” She threaded her hands together in her lap as she mused. “I suspect he’s received his fair share of invitations from the ladies of the ton. Maids and shopkeepers, too,
I’d wager.”

  I flushed at her bald statements. I was well aware that Anderley was considered to be attractive. However, Bree had always appeared to be immune to his allure, and Anderley paid little more heed to her prettiness than he did most women in his vicinity.

  But of course, I had never observed them outside of our presence. How much went on belowstairs, and about the cities and estates where our inquiries took place that I didn’t know about?

  I felt a protective surge on Bree’s behalf. If Anderley had trifled with her, or contrarily, if he’d refused to accept her rebuff of his affections, then he and I were going to have a serious problem. I liked Anderley. We had come to an understanding of each other, being more alike than we realized. But my loyalty would always, first and foremost, belong to Bree.

  I knew Gage had counseled me to stay out of the matter, but I found I couldn’t. Not now. Not when other guests were commenting on it. And not without knowing how Bree felt about all this.

  Lady Bearsden, however, seemed to consider it all a harmless romantic entanglement. “Ah, young love.” She pressed a hand to the tightly restrained white hair of her coiffure almost as if she feared her imaginings had rumpled it. “Now, then. I must thank you for whatever you said to my dear Charlotte. It seems to have made all the difference.”

  I took a sip of tea. “I simply reminded her of what she already knew.”

  She nodded. “Mr. Mallery is a good man. And those young children of his could not wish for a more doting stepmother.”

  “Or great-great-aunt,” I replied with a hidden smile. It was evident how much Lady Bearsden was looking forward to spoiling them.

  She chuckled. “Yes.” Then the pleasure faded from her gently wrinkled face. “But that’s not why I asked you to my chamber last night.”

  I lowered my cup, waiting for her to speak. She wasn’t normally one to falter when something needed to be faced, so I wondered if it was the absence of the dowager duchess which made her hesitate. Perhaps she was wary of speaking out of turn.

 

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