A Grave Matter Page 25

  Alana gasped in delight when she entered my room to find Bree just finishing buttoning up my gown in the back. “Oh, you look lovely!” A knowing smirk crossed her face. “I knew that gown would suit you. Now, if you would only let me replace your other dresses.”

  I scowled in displeasure, but she merely laughed and waved Bree out of the room.

  Moving toward me, she lifted her hands to reveal the sapphire and diamond necklace I had seen her wear on more than one occasion. “This will go perfectly.”

  “Alana . . .”

  “No protests. I’m not going to have you appear at the Assembly Rooms with only Mother’s amethyst pendant to adorn your neck. It’s not your fault your husband was such a miser.”

  I pressed my hand to the cold gems she draped around my neck while she fastened the clasp, not wanting to be reminded of Sir Anthony, especially after the events that had transpired earlier.

  “There.” Alana gripped my shoulders and turned me so that she could see the full effect of the necklace. A warm smile softened her face, making me think I might truly look pretty. “If Mr. Gage doesn’t pay you all sorts of compliments, then the man must be blind.”

  I turned away to straighten the brushes and combs and other various items littering the top of my vanity table. I knew he was likely already downstairs waiting to escort me to the ball Alana had managed to gain us a special dispensation to attend, that I would have to go down to join him soon. But I suddenly had no idea how I was going to face him.

  “Is something wrong, dearest?” my sister asked gently. When I didn’t immediately respond, she moved closer, her face appearing in the reflection of the mirror. “Is it Mr. Gage? Has he done something?”

  “No,” I lied.

  She hesitated, and then stepped even nearer so that she was standing at my side. “Then is it William?” The sleeve of her dress brushed my arm as she turned. “You know, you can’t mourn him forever.”

  I sighed. “Of course I do. But it’s barely been eleven weeks. Why is everyone so determined to forget that?”

  “Because we’re worried about you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I snapped. I closed my eyes against the sight of Alana’s hurt expression and inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I know you’re only trying to help.”

  She reached out to press a hand to my elbow above my long white evening gloves. “You know I would do anything for you.”

  I gave her a sad smile. “I know. But there are some things that even a fierce older sister cannot make better. No matter how much she wishes to.”

  Tears glistened in Alana’s eyes, and I reached out to squeeze her upper arms.

  “Cheer up, dearest. I no longer want to smash every dish in sight. Or torch that hideous set of curtains you decided to hang in the parlor.”

  She gasped a laugh.

  I leaned forward to see into her eyes. “That’s a positive sign, isn’t it?”

  She sniffed and nodded. Her hand rose up to smooth a curl back into place. “Isn’t it my job to reassure you?”

  “Yes, well. Perhaps it’s time that changed.”

  • • •

  Gage was speaking to Philip just inside the doorway to my brother-in-law’s study when Alana and I descended the stairs to the ground floor. It was gratifying to hear how their conversation stumbled to a stop as we came into sight, their words trailing away. I felt Gage’s eyes on me before I even looked up to meet them. The intensity of his gaze tingled across my skin. His pale blue eyes, normally an icy hue, warmed to something much less wintry as they trailed over every inch of me before settling on my face. A blush crested my cheeks and I struggled to keep it from blossoming further.

  Gage appeared as handsome and impeccably turned out as always in his dark evening kit. His golden curls were artfully arranged, his linens pristine. The only thing to mar his appearance was the dark circle of his black eye. I wondered what the matrons and young ladies at the Assembly Rooms would think of it.

  He met me at the base of the stairs, offering me his hand to help me down the last few steps. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, feeling flustered by the way he was looking at me.

  A smile curled his lips. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  I pivoted to take my fur-lined white evening shawl from Alana, but Gage reached for it first. He held it out for me and I turned so that he could drape it over my bare shoulders. The skin across the back of my neck and shoulders prickled with awareness at his close proximity. I wrapped the soft fabric around me, hugging it close. My heart was beating very fast, and I suddenly felt wildly out of my element. Such a simple thing, to help a woman into her cloak, but no one but my father and brother had ever done so for me. Maybe the movements were the same, but this was very different.

  I looked up to see my sister beaming down at me, clearly pleased by Gage’s attentions toward me. I tried to offer her a smile back, but I was afraid it came out quite timid. Then Gage was taking my arm and leading me down the steps to his carriage. I settled back against the squabs, my breath fluttering very quickly in and out of my chest like I’d run a race.

  Gage sat beside me and I was grateful for his warmth, as well as the fact that I would not have to try to meet his gaze. The lantern light cast everything in golden shades, including the stack of papers tossed on the bench across from us.

  “What are those?” I asked as the carriage pulled away from the curb and began to round the square toward George Street.

  “I made some discreet inquiries into the finances of our intrepid trio of young gentlemen.”

  I turned toward him eagerly, thankful for the distraction.

  “It appears that Lord Shellingham and Mr. Erskine are still as strapped for capital as usual, though there have been a few odd inconsistencies in Mr. Erskine’s spending. Mr. Fergusson, on the other hand, has received two large influxes of cash. But without delving deeper, I can’t tell you whether that’s because he finally gambled and won for once, or if the money came from another source.”

  The carriage slowed as it joined the queue of vehicles waiting to drop their occupants off in front of the arched portico of the Assembly Rooms. I lifted the curtain aside to see how far we were from the entrance. It was less than three blocks from Charlotte Square to the Assembly Rooms, and we’d been driving for less than a minute.

  “Do you think it’s worth pursuing? Do we think Mr. Fergusson could have arranged the thefts with the assistance of Edinburgh body snatchers himself?”

  Gage’s voice was pensive. “Perhaps. Though from what I’ve observed of the man, I don’t think he’s nearly so cautious or calculating. Were he working alone, I think his involvement would be much easier to detect.”

  I nodded, adjusting the shawl over my front and pushing back the errant curl from my face.

  He watched me with an amused twinkle in his eye. “But I don’t think we should rule out the possibility that all three of them are working together just yet. Shellingham may just be more careful than his cronies. Stop fidgeting,” he ordered, pulling my hand down from my face. “You look lovely. Did I not say so?”

  “Yes, well.” I ran my other hand down the soft fabric of the shawl. “Perhaps you’re just being polite.”

  Gage lowered his head, arching a single eyebrow at me. “I was not being polite.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “And you know it.”

  My gaze dropped to his lips. “Well, maybe.” I turned away. “I know I’ll at least not embarrass myself, or anyone else. Alana and Bree made sure of that.”

  Gage lifted his gloved fingers to my chin, turning my face to force my gaze back to his. His eyes searched my own, and I was sure he saw every thought that was swirling through my head, even though I tried to hide them. “Kiera, you could never embarrass me.” My face must have looked as skeptical as I felt, for he leaned even closer, almost touching his forehead to mine. “You couldn’t.” He searched my eyes deeper. “Is that w
hat you thought I was saying earlier? Why I was pushing you to defend yourself?”

  I closed my eyes, unwilling to continue to meet his gaze, not with all the emotions churning around inside me. They were too close to the surface, too easy for him to read, and I felt vulnerable in a way I hadn’t for a very long time.

  “Kiera,” he whispered, his voice filled with sorrow. He gently pressed a kiss between my eyes. His clothing rustled as he looked away, likely to see how much progress our carriage had made. “This isn’t the time, although we are going to discuss this later. But Kiera . . .” He paused, waiting for me to open my eyes.

  I blinked trying to bring him into focus, his face was so close to mine.

  “You are beautiful,” he told me earnestly. “Your dress this evening just accentuates that.”

  A warmth began to spread in my midsection at his words, but before I could thank him, the carriage halted and the door was thrown open. Gage disembarked first, allowing me a moment to compose myself, so that when he reached inside to help me down, I felt almost all the emotions he’d stirred up were safely packed away. All except an elation I could feel radiating from my smile, especially when he met my grin with one of his own.

  We passed beneath the arches and then in through the open doors. Our coat and shawl having been checked, we climbed the stairs toward the sound of music spilling out of the ballroom above. The staircase and foyers above and below were filled with ladies and gentlemen adorned in their evening attire, laughing and chattering and sipping glasses of champagne or punch.

  Half a dozen people called out to Gage or crossed the foyer to greet him, exclaiming over his injury. They all eyed me with a blatant curiosity that swiftly turned to shocked bewilderment after we’d been introduced. I suspected word of Sebastian Gage’s arrival with the infamous Lady Darby on his arm would have made its way around the assembly before we ever reached the ballroom. I waved politely to the few people I was acquainted with through my sister, and while they replied in kind, none of them hurried to greet me.

  There was one exception—a Mr. Knighton, whom I’d met at one of Alana’s dinner parties. Apparently he and Gage knew each other well, for they shook hands and exchanged a few ribbing comments about Gage’s black eye before Mr. Knighton asked after Philip and my sister. He listened attentively, and never once gave me the impression he wished to be elsewhere. He even insisted upon claiming a dance from me later in the evening, signing his name to the dance card dangling from my wrist.

  “I apologize if Mr. Knighton was a trifle overeager. I assure you he means well,” Gage told me after the other man had moved on to speak with another couple.

  “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I thought he was very pleasant.”

  “Yes. But he should not have forced you to dance if you do not wish to.”

  I stared at him in surprise, realizing what he meant. “I never said I didn’t like to dance. In fact, I’m rather fond of it.”

  It was Gage’s turn to look astonished. “You are? But why have I never seen you dance at the dinners and other soirees I’ve attended with you?”

  I glanced back at him with a sardonic lift to my eyebrows. “No one asked.” I turned to survey the crowd surrounding the dancers inside the ballroom, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. But a tug at my wrist pulled my attention back to him. “What are you doing?”

  He scrawled his name across my dance card in several places. “Claiming my dances before they’re all taken.”

  I didn’t know what to say, but a fierce joy suddenly shot through me, making it difficult to stand still and allow him to finish. He looked up at me and smiled, just a gentle little curl of his lips that I knew was meant only for me.

  “Now, see here, young man. Give the rest of us a chance,” a genial voice proclaimed. Mr. Stuart grinned widely at us, reaching out to take the card and pencil from Gage. “I don’t want to miss my opportunity to dance with the lovely Lady Darby.”

  I shook my head at the man’s flattery. “Mr. Stuart, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Sebastian Gage.”

  “You visited the Rutherfords recently,” Gage said, reaching out to shake his hand.

  “I did. And, of course, you would know that because you’re investigating that terrible business that happened over at the abbey on Hogmanay.” Gage’s eyes widened slightly and Mr. Stuart winked at him. “I’ve heard you’re very thorough. I would’ve expected nothing less.” He turned back to my card to write his name down for the next waltz.

  Gage seemed slightly taken aback, but he recovered his good humor quickly. “Yes. I try to be.”

  “Have you apprehended the culprits?”

  “Not yet. But we’re making progress.”

  He nodded, looking back and forth between us. “Well, I’m sure you’ll catch them in good time. I’ve heard of your exploits.” He offered me a faint bow. “I look forward to our dance, Lady Darby.”

  We watched as he wove through the crowd, on his way to sign another dance card perhaps. I smiled.

  “He’s French?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Or, at least, partly so. I believe he’s quite widely traveled.”

  “And the grandson of the Young Pretender,” Gage added dryly.

  I poked him in the side with my elbow. “That’s Bonnie Prince Charlie, if you please. Remember, you are in Edinburgh.”

  “Pardon me,” he teased.

  A handsome couple standing near the corner where the dowagers were seated caught my eye. “I’m going to speak with the Strathblanes,” I told him, but decided not to explain that Philip had suggested the viscount would be a good man to speak with about my concerns over Bonnie Brock’s hints. Any mention of the criminal was liable to irritate him.

  Gage followed my gaze, before leaning close to say, “Then I’ll make my rounds through the gaming salons and see if I can track down Mr. Fergusson.”

  We parted ways, and I wove my way through the crowd, skirting the edge of the dance floor. The wood gleamed underneath the light of the bright chandeliers, and the gold filigree adorning the two cornices that circled the ceiling fairly sparkled. The fast-driving music of a mazurka had just begun when I reached Lord and Lady Strathblane’s side.

  They greeted me amiably and asked after Alana and the children’s health. From the ease of their manner, I guessed they had not heard about Bonnie Brock’s abduction of Philip’s carriage and me from the theater, and I decided not to enlighten them. Not when there was no reason to alarm them. No harm had been done, at least to me. And Gage’s foolhardiness could not be laid at their feet.

  When I broached the topic with the viscount that I’d approached them to discuss, he nodded his head readily. “Yes. Of course. Cromarty wrote to tell me you might have some questions for me. What can I do?”

  “You know that I’m assisting Mr. Gage with a rather sensitive investigation,” I moved closer to say, turning to face outward with the wall at my back, lest someone approach from behind and catch me by surprise.

  “Yes. I had heard.”

  The dancers whirled across the floor before us, executing the quick, intricate steps. With the mazurka’s loud, lively music, I could not have picked a better dance to cover our conversation.

  “We’ve recently received information that has led us to believe that something in the gentlemen’s past might have been the motive for these body snatchings. Possibly something to do with Scotland.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to find him listening attentively. “I know that’s extremely vague, but I wondered if perhaps your father had mentioned something to you. I know he was quite active in government in London and here in Scotland.” That was an understatement. Lord Strathblane’s recently deceased father had served in nearly every branch of government at some point in time, from the Foreign Office to the Home Office to the War Department. He had never served as Prime Minister, but most believed that was a matter of personal choice, for he’d certainly had the experience and popularity to do so.

  Lord
Strathblane’s brow furrowed. “Something to do with Lord Buchan, Sir Colum Casselbeck, and Ian Tyler of Woodslea?”

  I nodded. “And possibly others.”

  He considered the matter for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I honestly can’t think of anything. But then my father shared very little with me before a few years ago, and I assume this goes back long before that.”

  “It would have to be prior to 1818 or 1819, when Mr. Tyler and Sir Colum passed away.”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Though I could look through my father’s papers.”

  “Would it be a lot of trouble?” I asked, hating to add to the already busy man’s burden, especially on so flimsy a hint as Bonnie Brock had given us.

  I could tell from his expression that it would be. “I could peruse his journals for any mention of Buchan, and work from there if necessary. Would that help?”

  “Yes it would, as long as it won’t take too much of your time,” I hastened to make sure he understood.

  He smiled kindly. “I’m happy to be of assistance.”

  I chatted a moment longer with the Strathblanes, but then the mazurka ended and I was whisked off to the dance floor by Mr. Knighton. The Scottish reel was quick and sprightly, and I enjoyed it immensely. Mr. Knighton proved to be a very agreeable partner—accomplished with the steps, but not too stiff to appreciate them.

  I had a wide grin on my face when he deposited me at the edge of the ballroom and went off to find his next partner.

  “I used to enjoy dancing like that,” a voice said to my left.

  I turned to see a woman in a cream-colored dress with a gold net overlay seated on a chair watching me. She was perhaps in her late fifties, and still quite attractive, with a long graceful neck and silver hair swirled high on her head and accented with three long white feathers. The twinkle in her eye said she approved of my delight.

  “But you must still be able to dance,” I protested, taking in her trim, but strong figure.