A Grave Matter Read online

  Ever since I’d learned that Gage had been in Greece during their struggle for independence from the Turks, I’d been curious to know why. I wanted to understand what had happened to make him so closemouthed about the whole thing. Until now, he had always resisted telling me more. Would he still?

  He pushed another loose hair back from my cheek and traced his finger down to my jaw. “I will tell you everything you want to know,” he promised me with haunted eyes. “But not tonight. Please. It’s . . . too much.”

  I nodded, wanting to be understanding, but also feeling frustrated at his continued evasion. However, I knew he was right. It was late. And if this story was as troubling as I suspected, as the pain in his eyes seemed to indicate, then perhaps it was better to save it for a time when our emotions were not already so raw from everything that had happened this evening.

  So I allowed him to put it off a little while longer, hoping I wouldn’t later regret it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  It was almost midday the next day when Gage rushed into the drawing room of the town house on Charlotte Square, where Alana and I were relaxing. Having already quizzed me on what had happened between Gage and I the evening before, she was working on a piece of embroidery for the new baby while I read a copy of Debrett’s Peerage, trying to work out the tangled web of relations among our suspects in the British peerage. Gage didn’t wait to be announced, nor even take the time to remove his greatcoat.

  I sat forward at the sight of him, instantly knowing something was wrong. “What is it?”

  His expression was grim as he lifted a folded sheet of paper. “Another body.”

  I shifted to the edge of my seat. “Where?”

  “A village called Beckford in the Borders.”

  I glanced at Alana. “That’s just south of Kelso. Not far from St. Boswells.”

  “I know. I looked at a map,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  “But what does that mean?” I asked in confusion. “It’s so close to Dryburgh Abbey. Is that just a coincidence?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. His gaze sharpened. “But I would like to find out. Can you be ready to leave in an hour?”

  I looked at Alana again, who had been silently listening to our exchange. Her eyes were wide, but she said nothing. “I shall do my best.”

  He nodded and began to back from the room. “I’ll call for you at one o’clock.”

  • • •

  Even with the help of Alana’s maid and another girl from belowstairs, Bree and I were barely ready to leave when Gage came for us. I could only be grateful I’d packed light.

  My sister did not help matters by beginning to weep immediately following Gage’s departure from the drawing room. Soon she had me biting back tears of my own between issuing instructions for the maids. I’m sure we looked a sad mess when Philip entered my room to find out what the fuss was all about. His eyes were wide with that panicked look some men seem to get whenever faced with an emotional female. Normally he handled my sister’s strange moods while she was expecting quite well, but apparently two near-sobbing females were too much for even him.

  When Gage’s carriage arrived, I embraced Alana tightly and promised her I would return soon, long before her time came to give birth. Even so, it was hard to drive away after seeing her in such a state. I hoped her extreme agitation was only because of the baby and that it would pass soon; otherwise I would feel horribly guilty for leaving her so upset. In the end, it was Philip’s reassuring smile that had finally convinced me to allow Gage to help me up into his carriage. I knew he would always take care of her, and that he would send for me if I was needed.

  I dabbed at the corners of my eyes with my handkerchief as the carriage passed under the shadow of the rock on which Edinburgh Castle perched. By the time we rounded the crenellation and skirted the Shambles and the Grassmarket on our way out of the city, I had myself much more in hand. I gave one last sniff and stuffed my handkerchief back into the pocket of my dress.

  Bree studiously trained her gaze outside the opposite window, but Gage and Anderley both watched me from the seat across from us with varying degrees of uncertainty. Gage was by far the most sympathetic, while Anderley looked mildly unsettled at the sight of a tearful female. I ignored him and focused on Gage.

  “Do you know anything more about the body that was taken?”

  He nodded, withdrawing the letter he had waved in the air earlier from an interior pocket of his greatcoat. “It was a Lord Fleming.” He opened the missive, scanning it for the information he sought. “Your uncle says that he died in 1823, and was succeeded by his grandson, the current Lord Fleming. He was buried at Beckford Parish Churchyard.” He glanced up at me over the paper. “Your uncle also mentions he’s surprised by the thieves’ daring. Apparently Beckford Parish Churchyard is well guarded. It even boasts a watchtower.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. I knew many of the graveyards in Edinburgh and the surrounding area had built watchtowers and hired men to guard the graves at night, or employed other deterrents to body snatchers, like mortsafes, but I’d not heard of graveyards so far from the city doing so. Of course, I also hadn’t initially realized the body snatchers had begun to travel so far afield in search of fresh corpses for the anatomists and anatomy schools.

  But these weren’t your traditional body snatchers.

  “Perhaps Beckford only employs night watchmen when there are newly deceased bodies buried there to guard,” I suggested. In such a small parish, I had difficulty imagining they could afford to do otherwise, unless the men were volunteers, another very real probability.

  “It’s possible,” Gage conceded as he tucked the letter back into his pocket. “But certainly something worth looking into.”

  “Was Lord Fleming a member of the Society of Antiquaries?”

  He frowned, squinting through the window into the afternoon sunlight. “We’ll have to ask his family. That was something I didn’t have time to investigate prior to our departure. I decided a better use of our time would be to arrive there before the ransom note, and perhaps before any evidence they may have left behind disappeared, though the hope of that is slim, since the theft happened three nights ago now.”

  I remained silent, knowing how badly Gage wanted to catch these men. I wanted them caught as well, but perhaps not with the same fervor. It bothered him that they’d slipped through his fingers twice now. He wasn’t about to let them get away a third time.

  He shifted to face me. “In any case, I spoke with Sergeant Maclean and he’s heard back from a few more of his contacts. It doesn’t look like there have been any other similar body-snatching cases, though there’s always the chance that a scandal-conscious family might not have reported or been willing to admit to such an incident.”

  “Did he question you about your eye?” I couldn’t resist asking. The deep red and purple of his contusion had begun to fade to a jaundice shade of yellow as it healed.

  Anderley looked up from his contemplation of his feet and I felt Bree shift beside me. Apparently they both found this question more interesting than what had come before.

  Gage scowled. “Yes.”

  When he neglected to elaborate, I was forced to prompt him. “And what did he say?”

  He simply continued to glare at me, and a thought occurred to me.

  “You did tell him the truth?”

  A muscle twitched at the corner of Gage’s narrowed eyes. “I knew what I was doing when I walked home. I knew everything that was at stake.”

  “So you knew you could be killed and you still chose to do it? But it was so needless.”

  “It wasn’t my life that I was worried about. And it was far from needless.”

  I frowned. “How could you not have been worried about being killed?”

  His gaze traveled up and down my person. “Some things are more important than that,” he proclaimed solemnly. “There are some things you simply have to confront in person. And Bonnie Brock needed to
be made to understand that he cannot come after you, not without consequences. Not without dealing with me.”

  I was momentarily stunned by the ferocity I saw in his eyes, especially knowing that it was not directed at me, but on my behalf.

  However, his voice had gentled when he spoke again. “Kiera, I will not allow anyone to think for a minute that they can harm you.”

  I swallowed and nodded, before turning to stare blindly out the window, uncertain how to handle such a revelation. I’d always trusted Gage to look out for me, at least physically. He had saved my life twice, for goodness’ sake. But I’d never expected him to place himself in danger simply to ensure my future safety. As little good as that had done, since Bonnie Brock was still having me followed, and had even confronted me again the previous evening. I decided it was best to keep that second encounter with the notorious criminal to myself. There was no telling what Gage would do.

  Conflicting emotions twisted inside me as I snuck a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him, and the presence of our servants did not help matters. His desire to protect me and defend my honor was both touching and noble. And incredibly foolhardy. But I supposed last night I had also been foolish enough to tell Bonnie Brock to his face that I would do the same thing if he ever touched Gage again, so perhaps I understood.

  “What can I say?” I murmured, knowing he was still waiting for a response. “Except that if you were killed . . .” I swallowed again, forcing the lump of emotion back down my throat. Even so, my voice shook. “I . . . I would prefer that you were not. That you not take such a chance again, even on my behalf.”

  Gage’s eyes softened, telling me he comprehended far more than I’d said. I turned aside to stare out the window again, trying to quiet the tumult such a simple glance from him could cause inside me.

  I was grateful when, rather than pressing the matter, he instead returned to the subject of the body snatching in Beckford.

  “There’s a much shorter space of time between this theft and the last one. I don’t know whether that’s because they’re escalating, they’re growing reckless, or because they know we’re investigating and they’re worried they won’t have time to finish what they started.”

  “Which would imply that they have a larger plan in mind,” I said. “Another aim other than extorting money out of wealthy noble families.”

  “Precisely.” His fingers tapped against his thigh in impatience. “Unfortunately, most of our suspects lend themselves to that theory, so it does nothing to narrow down our list.”

  “And I’ve another to add to it.”

  All three occupants of the carriage turned to look at me at this pronouncement.

  “Who?” Gage asked.

  “Mr. Stuart.” I explained to him briefly the information I was able to gather both from the man in question and Lady Bute at the Assembly Rooms the night before. “He was extremely forthcoming, which makes me inclined to believe him innocent, but he does have motive for some of the body snatchings, slim as it might be. And he could be lying about the number and the names of the men involved. So I don’t think we can completely rule him out.”

  Gage’s brow was lowered in displeasure. “Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?”

  I arched my eyebrows at him in reproach, wanting to know if he really wished me to announce in front of our servants why we’d been arguing. I watched as understanding dawned in his eyes, and his mouth flexed in discomfort.

  “I see. Well, I don’t suppose there’s much I could’ve done about it yesterday evening in any case. I’ll send Philip a note and ask him to look into it. With his government contacts—”

  “I already have,” I interrupted. “This morning.”

  Gage nodded. “Good. Well, I have a few contacts in London I can also press for information, but I’m afraid it will be too late in reaching us if we’re to stop the culprits before the ransom is paid on this fourth victim.” He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Incidentally, had Mr. Stuart just arrived in Edinburgh? I’m curious where he was the night of this latest theft.”

  I shook my head. “He was at the Theatre Royal. I spoke with him after the performance.”

  Gage’s head perked up. “Really? Just before you left and were abducted by Bonnie Brock?”

  Anderley’s eyes widened. Clearly his employer had not shared that information with him. I knew Bree was aware of it, though we’d never discussed it. Philip’s household was like any other. The servants talked, and I was sure the coachman and footman had shared our ordeal with the others belowstairs.

  Even so, I answered hesitantly, “Yes.”

  “Curious,” Gage murmured, turning to stare out the window at the increasingly rural scenery as the buildings became farther and farther spaced out on the outskirts of Edinburgh.

  “Why?” I asked in some confusion, and then realized what he was implying. “You think Mr. Stuart and Bonnie Brock are in league?”

  “The possibility did cross my mind.” His voice was maddeningly calm.

  “But then why would Brock point me in the direction of Mr. Stuart? I would never have suspected the man without his veiled comments.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe he’s tired of being under the other man’s thumb.”

  I considered the matter for a moment, unsettling as it was, but then decided it was very unlikely. “I don’t think Bonnie Brock is under anyone’s thumb,” I said with awed certainty.

  Gage grimaced and reluctantly admitted, “I don’t either.”

  I glanced over at Bree, who was watching me. I could tell she had something to say, but for whatever reason, she held her tongue.

  I decided I would ask her about it later. My chance finally came when we stopped at an inn just outside Lauder for the night. Bree was helping me to undress when I broached the subject.

  “Aye, m’lady,” she admitted. “But I wasna sure ye would wish me to mention it in front o’ Mr. Gage.”

  I stepped out of my dress and turned to face her in my shift, shivering in the cold of the room. “What do you mean?”

  “Well . . .” She rolled up my warm flannel nightgown and dropped it over my head. She nibbled her lip as I pushed my arms into the sleeves. “It’s just that . . . there’ve been men watchin’ the house. Johnny noticed ’em first,” she added, naming one of the footmen. “And he thinks they’re Bonnie Brock’s men.” She was clearly distressed at sharing this news.

  “It’s all right. I already know,” I assured her.

  “Ye do?” she said in surprise.

  I nodded. “Or, at least, I suspected it.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. “But why, m’lady? To warn ye away from the inquiry?”

  Hearing the worry in her voice triggered my own. I reached out to run my fingers over the smooth surface of my amethyst pendant where I had set it on top of the old, dented dresser when I began to undress. “Well, if I’m to take his word for it, he actually wants me to solve it.”

  I looked up into Bree’s concerned eyes. “His sister’s missing, and he believes she’s run off with the men responsible for doing the actual body snatching.”

  Her eyes instantly softened in sympathy. “Poor dear. I s’pose she’d no idea what she was gettin’ herself into.”

  “I imagine not.”

  “And he’d no notion where they went?”

  I shook my head. “Away from Edinburgh. That’s all he knew.”

  Bree nodded and set about tidying the room, deep in thought. I couldn’t help but wonder if she empathized with the girl for more reasons than just a soft heart, but I elected not to ask.

  • • •

  The roads the next day were less than ideal for travel. The snow we had feared when we watched the approach of the heavy gray wall of clouds on the horizon at dusk the day before had arrived. Overnight it had blanketed the ground several inches deep, and although the accumulation was not heavy, it was a nuisance. As the day wore on, and
the traffic as well as the temperatures increased, the muddy slush of the roadways made travel slow and messy. Twice Gage and Anderley were forced to climb out and assist the footman in pushing the carriage out of a boggy mess.

  We had left the inn before dawn, in hopes of reaching Marefield House before noon, but it was late afternoon, closer to teatime, before the carriage lumbered up the drive. The manse was a two-story speckled stone building with what looked to be mostly symmetrical additions made to each end. The dark gray slope of the roof was covered in snow, but smoke puffed from several of the chimneys. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself inside my cloak, anxious to get inside. The hot brick I’d been given at our last stop had long since grown cold, and my toes were freezing inside their kid leather boots.

  Fortunately, the butler had either been expecting us or was kind, for he ushered us inside the relative warmth of the entry hall quickly. He gathered Gage’s and my winter things while Bree and Anderley were escorted downstairs to the servants’ quarters by a footman. I watched them go, wondering if they would be able to gather more information from the servants than we would of their employers. The butler flicked a glance down at Gage’s mud-splattered boots and the knees of his breeches, but as there was nothing that could be done about it, he clearly thought better of mentioning it, and instead escorted us to the drawing room.

  The first thing that struck me was the extreme coziness of the space. A fire burned in the hearth at the opposite end of the room, casting flickering light across the warm burnt orange walls. The lovely silk wallpaper bore a swirled pattern that gave the surface a textured appearance that made one wish to run their hand across it. The plush chairs and settees and ottomans, in various autumnal shades of red and orange and golden yellow were stuffed with pillows and all arranged so that one could easily hold a conversation without raising one’s voice.

  I absolutely adored the space, but it was obvious that at least one of the room’s current occupants did not adore me.

  Lady Fleming, I presumed, stood next to her husband before one of the settees, her glittering dark eyes narrowed in obvious dislike. I had received the look many times before from society ladies—it was a mixture of scorn and distrust—and it always made my stomach drop in remembered fear and anger. But however strong her aversion to me was, she swiftly banked it as her husband first greeted Gage and then me. I couldn’t help darting a glance toward her as I spoke briefly to Lord Fleming, wondering if I’d imagined her animosity.