A Pressing Engagement (A Lady Darby Mystery) Page 3

I realized he was right. It was almost certain Bonnie Brock had not told us all. It wasn’t in his nature to be so trusting. Or scrupulous.

  I turned my head into Gage’s hand, enjoying the tingle his touch always caused me as his fingers trailed along my cheekbone around to my ear. “So what do you think I should do?”

  “Retrieve the journal as he asked. But let’s take a closer look at it before we hand it over. Maybe it can tell us why he’s so eager to have it.”

  I nodded. “I’ll visit Caroline this afternoon.”

  He leaned in to press his lips against my brow, tracing them down my temple to my earlobe. As his teeth nibbled it, I inhaled swiftly, gripping his arm just above the elbow.

  His forehead suddenly lowered to rest on my shoulder as he groaned. “Dash it! The blackguard was right about one thing.” He lifted his head to look down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Especially when you make sounds like that.”

  I felt my cheeks begin to flush, still unused to such swirling sensations and his frank discussion of them. My first marriage had been absent of both. “Well,” I swallowed, having trouble knowing what to say. “We will be wed tomorrow. So a few more hours . . .” I could hear that I was beginning to ramble, somewhat embarrassingly. I turned to search for something else to discuss before the humor that I’d seen spark in Gage’s eyes at my fumbling attempt to reassure him turned to outright laughter. My eyes fell on the box resting in the seat across from us. “What of the torc?”

  Gage stifled his amusement, following my gaze. “What of it? It’s not going anywhere. I’m sure its mystery can wait until after the wedding.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to wear it if it turns out to be stolen.”

  He turned to look at me more closely. “Then I’m sure you have another necklace you could wear.” He nodded at my neck. “Your mother’s pendant. Or perhaps . . .”

  “Yes, but it would be nice to be able to wear Jock’s gift,” I declared, interrupting him before he said something that would prevent me from using such an excuse. “When else am I going to have an occasion to wear such a unique piece of jewelry?” But I should have known Gage would never be fobbed off so easily.

  “What’s truly troubling you, Kiera? We didn’t need to visit the curiosity shop today. Your excuse about wanting fresh air was flimsy at best.”

  I clasped my hands together. “Nothing’s really troubling me,” I began carefully, searching for my words. “It’s merely all the dress fittings, and the string quintet. And the guest list keeps growing, and now there’s going to be champagne.” I could hear the anxiety seeping into my voice and inhaled a deep breath before continuing. “This was supposed to be simple. That’s what we decided. But Alana seems determined otherwise. And now she’s worried about my reputation because people will think I’m enceinte.”

  Gage took hold of my hands. “Kiera, your reputation has suffered far worse than the possibility that we might have anticipated our vows.”

  It was true. I had weathered more serious rumors. And once we were wed, no one would think twice about this one, especially when it became obvious there was no baby forthcoming.

  “I’m sure your sister is aware of that,” Gage persisted. “But I’m afraid whatever she has planned for us, there’s little chance of stopping at this point.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think you can endure for one more day?” His gaze turned more intent, though his eyes never lost their gleam. “For if not, I’ll whisk you away now, and we’ll find some country vicar, or even a blacksmith to marry us over the anvil. Today, if possible.”

  A gasp of laughter escaped me. “You can’t be serious?”

  “I am. We’ll drive to Gretna Green, if need be. Though, thanks to Scotland’s lax marriage laws, I suspect we needn’t go that far to find someone happy to declare us man and wife for a few quid.” I could hear in his voice that he was entirely earnest, and my heart warmed at this display of his devotion.

  I smiled softly. “You know we can’t. My sister would never forgive us. Nor the rest of my family.”

  Gage pulled me closer. “I would risk that to know you’re happy.”

  “I am,” I assured him. “I’m marrying you. The rest are inconsequential details.” I huffed a small laugh. “Disconcerting as they are.”

  He searched my face, as if to be certain I was not lying, and then nodded. “What can I do then, to keep you from retreating into a corner or strangling your sister?”

  I nodded at the box. “Help me find out what happened to this torc.”

  He arched a single eyebrow. “You didn’t even need to think about that one, did you?”

  I merely smiled.

  “I suppose if distraction will make all of this easier for you, then who am I to argue. We’re not likely to get into trouble searching for the owner of a lost gold torc.” His voice lowered. “Though, I can’t promise your absence today will improve your sister’s disposition.”

  I brushed that concern aside, eager to discuss something else. “How should we proceed? After all, the shop owner’s description of the woman who pawned this torc wasn’t exactly specific.”

  His gaze strayed toward the window. “Then perhaps we should start at the beginning. Maybe if we could find out what Miss Collingwood actually did with her torc when she supposedly donated it to the Society of Antiquaries, the trail will lead us to the woman who pawned this one.”

  I considered his suggestion. “I’m sure Mr. Collingwood probably already tried to locate the torc that way, but that doesn’t mean he asked the right people. After all, I doubt most nephews are very insightful about the lives of their spinster aunts.”

  “So let’s ignore the obvious sources—Miss Collingwood’s family members and solicitor.”

  I frowned. “But who does that leave? We aren’t exactly well-acquainted with her life either, or who her friends were.”

  His eyes twinkled. “No. But I’m sure a notorious gossip of about the same age might be able to tell us something her family has fortuitously forgotten.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Lady Bearsden.”

  “She has proved an invaluable source of information in the past.”

  It was true. Without her random prattling, we might never have solved our last inquiry. At least, not in time.

  I pushed that troubling memory aside. “I’m sure she would welcome a visit from us.”

  Gage shifted forward to open the carriage door as we rolled to a stop in front of Philip and Alana’s town house on Charlotte Square. “But I’m afraid it will have to wait until this afternoon.” He looked up at me, and I could already see the stoic expression stealing across his features. “I’m meeting my father.”

  I didn’t ask for details, not wanting to pain either of us. Lord Gage was not happy about our wedding, and I suspected today’s meeting was merely his last attempt to dissuade his son from marrying me. I knew Gage, on the other hand, hoped to convince his father to attend the ceremony. Though he wouldn’t admit it, I knew his father’s disapproval weighed heavily on him. And it made me dislike Lord Gage all the more.

  ***

  12:15 P.M.

  “Lady Cromarty’s been askin’ for you,” Bree informed me as she entered my chamber with my gown for dinner later that evening draped over her arm.

  I watched as she crossed the room to hang my dress on the edge of the wardrobe. I’d known it was too much to hope that Alana hadn’t noted my absence when she didn’t meet me at the door or intercept me on the stairs on my way up to my chamber. “Did she say what she wanted?” I asked, wondering at my sister’s temperament. From the matter-of-fact tone of Bree’s voice, I guessed she wasn’t cross. Yet.

  “Nay.” Bree reached in to pull out my white jaconet gown and plum redingote. “Though, she did seem rather frantic to find a length o’ ribbon and a bolt o’ white muslin that’ve gone missin�
��.”

  I reached out a hand absently to steady my cat, Earl Grey, as he leapt up onto the bed in front of me and nearly toppled over the side. I supposed he’d skirted into the room before Bree shut the door. “Ribbon?”

  She nodded, crossing the room toward where I stood. “And I imagine if she hasna found it yet, she’ll be askin’ you next.”

  I frowned, running my hands over the cat’s fur. His whole body vibrated with contented purring. “Well, I haven’t seen it.”

  Bree shrugged and began unfastening the buttons on my dress, forcing me to step back from the bed. Almost immediately the cat yowled in protest.

  I glanced at the large gray mouser in surprise. “Well, you’re awfully talkative today.”

  My maid scowled, flicking a glance over her shoulder at the feline. “He’s been mewlin’ like tha’ all mornin’. An’ Mrs. Murray’s already fed him scraps twice.”

  I shook my head as the cat subsided, rolling about on the bed on his back. “Take him up to the nursery. Perhaps the children can soothe him.”

  “They can try,” Bree muttered under her breath.

  I watched her for a moment as she tugged the last few buttons through their holes, my thoughts drifting back toward Alana.

  “Is there anything else I should know?” I queried carefully, not certain what I wanted to hear.

  Bree hummed to herself in thought. “Lord Cromarty’s barricaded himself in his study.”

  My lips quirked. My brother-in-law, Philip, always knew when it was best to stay out of my sister’s way. I suspected it was some instinct for self-preservation, as today was sure to be a whirl of preparations, much of which were undertaken by the staff.

  Bree whisked my morning gown over my head. “And Lady Hollingsworth, Lord Damien, and Lady Caroline are joinin’ ye for luncheon.”

  Well, this was a happy coincidence. The very person I needed to talk to. Perhaps arranging a visit to the Marlowe town house would not be so awkward after all.

  ***

  12:30 P.M.

  I timed my arrival in the drawing room to occur after I’d already ascertained that the Marlowes had arrived, but that didn’t stop Alana from pulling me aside before I could do more than greet them. Apparently, the rules of etiquette did not apply when there was a wedding to be arranged.

  “Where did you go this morning?” she asked me, tugging me toward a table set near the corner.

  I was not foolish enough to think the lightness of her voice meant she was not annoyed, but I was encouraged nonetheless. “Merely getting some fresh air with Gage.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  Her eyes softened as they always did when I spoke of me and Gage together. After all of my unhappiness, I knew she was delighted, and more than a little relieved, that I’d fallen in love with a man like Sebastian Gage. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t also irritated I’d ruined her grand plans for an August wedding. “You do realize you are marrying the man tomorrow. I think you can survive one day without spending it entirely in his company.”

  I stiffened. “I do not spend every day with him. Besides, isn’t a bride supposed to want to spend time with her fiancé? Especially if she cares for him?” I turned to stare at the bright sunshine streaming through the window across the floor. “Perhaps if I’d spent more time with Sir Anthony before our marriage I would have realized why he was truly interested in me.”

  My sister’s voice gentled. “Kiera, you’re not still questioning Gage’s devotion, are you?”

  “No.” I glanced over at her, realizing I’d strayed from my argument. “But didn’t you want to spend as much time as possible with Philip? Weren’t you anxious to see him?”

  “Of course,” she answered readily, and I thought I’d made my point, until she added, “But not the week before our wedding. I was too busy.”

  I remembered. She’d bustled about, anxious to have everything perfect, adjusting things that didn’t need adjusting, as far as I could tell. Much as she was doing now. And as her seventeen-year-old little sister, I’d felt more in the way than part of the preparations.

  “Yes, well, your ceremony was much larger and grander than mine and Gage’s shall be.”

  She ignored my comment, reaching out to adjust the flowers in the vase on the table. “Look at this arrangement. Do you think the Helleborus and daffodils are enough? Or shall we add a touch of flowering currant?”

  “I think they’re lovely,” I replied after a short pause, though I didn’t know why she bothered to ask, or why I even bothered to answer. She wasn’t going to listen to me anyway.

  She tilted her head. “Hmm. They do look a bit sparse.”

  “Are you thinking of including some blackthorn?” Lady Hollingsworth commented, approaching to stand next to us.

  Alana turned to confer with her, and I watched as they began to pick up and discard the different types of flora and greenery scattered across the table. Realizing my presence and my opinion mattered little, I backed away to join Damien and Caroline across the room.

  Caroline smiled brightly as I settled onto the settee next to her. “You must be so excited. And nervous,” she gasped, making me recall that her own wedding was only four short weeks away. After a somewhat trying and tumultuous early engagement, she would be marrying an old family friend of mine, Michael Dalmay, in a sumptuous ceremony at St. George’s.

  “Yes. A little,” I admitted, uncomfortable discussing such things, even with someone as gentle and artless as Caroline. But then I remembered Bonnie Brock’s request, and pressed a hand to my stomach. “I could barely stomach any breakfast. I feel as though a whole flock of birds has taken flight inside me.”

  Caroline leaned forward to touch my other hand where it rested in my lap. “Oh, but you must eat. Mother says skipping meals can make you light-headed. You certainly don’t want to faint during the ceremony.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt for worrying her so, but pushed it aside. “I’ll keep that in mind. But what about you? How are your wedding plans coming along?”

  “Quite well, thank you. Mother says we are on schedule.”

  “That’s good. And Michael? How is he? Do you see much of each other?” I glanced distractedly at Damien, who had presumably grown bored with our conversation and risen from his seat to cross toward the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.

  She flushed happily at the mention of Michael’s name. “He comes down to Edinburgh whenever he can. At least once a week.”

  I smiled, realizing I was going to have to be more direct or our discussion could meander for hours before touching on what I was most interested in. “I heard he gave you an early wedding present.”

  “Oh, yes. A lady’s writing desk.” Her eyes shone with joy. “It’s lovely, Kiera. I can just imagine it in the little parlor that is to be mine, positioned before the window looking out over the water of the firth.”

  “It sounds charming.” It truly did. “I should love to come see it for myself.”

  “Of course. Anytime.”

  “How about this afternoon?” I asked, jumping at the opportunity she’d presented.

  The surprise radiating across her features told me I might have sounded a shade too eager.

  “Today?” Her eyes strayed toward where Alana and her mother were still conferring. “But aren’t you overwhelmed with wedding details?”

  “It’s a small, private ceremony, so there aren’t nearly as many things to do. And truthfully . . .” I leaned forward as if confiding a secret. “. . . I would welcome the distraction. Just for a little while, it would be nice to do something to help me forget why I’m so anxious.”

  Caroline nodded solemnly. “I think I know what you mean. Then, yes, you must come. Whenever you like.”

  Chapter 4

  2:00 P.M.

  Slipping out while Alana was otherwise preoccupied, I traveled with Gage a
cross New Town to the town house Lady Bearsden currently rented off St. Andrew Square. I had made her acquaintance a month before after reconnecting with her great-niece, the recently widowed Lady Stratford. An unlikely friendship had somehow blossomed out of the tragedy that had initially linked us, and so I had become close to the two ladies in a rather short amount of time.

  The older lady seemed pleased to see me, as always, but she was especially delighted by Gage. “Mr. Gage, how wonderful of you to call on us again. And under such happy circumstances. Tomorrow is the joyous day, is it not?”

  Gage crossed the room to greet her where she perched in her usual place, cushioned in a wingback chair next to the low-burning fire in the hearth.

  “Sit next to me, young man,” Lady Bearsden exclaimed, grabbing hold of Gage’s hands and guiding him toward the chair beside hers. “It’s not every day that an old woman like me has the chance to enjoy such a fine figure.”

  Lady Stratford murmured her aunt’s name in gentle scolding, but Gage merely smiled. “I’m pleased to be of assistance.”

  “See. He doesn’t mind,” Lady Bearsden crowed. “Such a gentleman. My Lumpy had just as fine manners. Though not the fortune to have your face, God bless his soul.”

  Lady Stratford and I shared a look as we settled on a settee a short distance across the room. We were well accustomed to her great-aunt making such comments about her dearly departed husband.

  “But what of your father.” Lady Bearsden leaned toward Gage, whose features visibly tightened. “You must bring Lord Gage for a visit. You cannot tell me that rascal doesn’t remember me.”

  “Oh, I assure you, he does,” Gage replied courteously, though I wasn’t certain that was true. Lady Bearsden had been trying to persuade us to bring Lord Gage to call on her ever since she’d discovered he was in Edinburgh, but thus far I’d said nothing to him about it, and I suspected neither had Gage. “He’s been kept busy with other matters. But I’m sure he would wish me to convey his apologies for his prolonged absence.”

  Lady Bearsden beamed. “Such manners. Oh, but surely I shall see him at the wedding tomorrow.”