A Brush with Shadows Read online

  He dropped his gaze somewhat shamefacedly. “That was a miscalculation on my part. When you and your wife showed up here with Rory, I worried Rory had convinced you I was off somewhere merrily enjoying myself. Lorna assured me otherwise, but I wouldn’t listen. So I smeared the coat with pig’s blood and planted it for you or someone else to find, hoping that would convince you to keep investigating.”

  “But you didn’t realize you’d dropped a button,” I guessed, drawing his gaze. “And when you or Lorna found it, you tucked it into the drawer.” Gage scowled at me in confusion, but I ignored him, arching a single eyebrow at Alfred in contempt. “You must have panicked when you realized I was hunting through the cabinet for paper. I assume you removed the button then without telling Lorna. Hence her confusion the next day when she was looking for it.”

  Alfred’s mouth turned downward. “Yes, Lorna has already berated me for that foolish move as well.”

  “Maybe next time you’ll listen to her,” I couldn’t resist remarking.

  “So this wasn’t about Grandfather’s pressuring you to wed Lady Juliana?” Gage interjected. His tone conveyed doubt.

  Alfred tapped the table before him and looked up at Lorna, his eyes sharp with anguish. “I would be lying if I didn’t say that was a consideration. But no.” He sighed. “Hiding here would not make that problem go away.”

  I was already heavily predisposed not to like Alfred, and this meeting had not altered that. But I also believed he was being truthful. He’d not tried to make himself sound better or more noble than he was, and I suspected this was Lorna’s influence at work. However, the question of Rory’s whereabouts was another matter, and Gage seemed to feel the same way.

  “Assuming all of this is true, why should I believe you didn’t decide to take things into your own hands and kill Rory before he could kill you?”

  Alfred’s expression turned bitter. “I suppose you can’t. Except that I didn’t. Had I known for certain he was the one poisoning me, I would have enjoyed nothing more than making that clod suffer. But I don’t know who is trying to kill me. Given that fact, harming Rory would be pointless.”

  Gage turned to meet my gaze, silently asking my opinion. But Alfred must have viewed this as disbelief.

  “I didn’t have to come forward and tell you all of this,” he snapped. “I only did so because whoever it is must have turned their sights on Rory.”

  The petulant tone of his voice more than his words convinced me he was being honest. I nodded and Gage stepped toward his cousin.

  “If I’m to believe you, there’s one thing I need to check.” He bumped his left thigh with his knee.

  “What the bloody hell was that for?” Alfred groused, but he didn’t flinch in pain.

  Rather than answer, Gage gestured toward the opposite side of the room. “I need to see you walk.”

  Alfred’s face contorted with rage. “I’m not some dashed hound to do tricks at your bidding.”

  “This isn’t a jest,” Gage retorted. “Do it.”

  “Just do it, Alfred,” Lorna murmured.

  Alfred huffed an aggrieved sigh, but with Lorna’s urging finally complied. There was no noticeable limp.

  “Thank you,” Gage replied, ignoring his cousin’s venomous gaze, so like the dowager’s. There was no doubt where Alfred had learned it from. “My wife and I were attacked last night in bed.”

  Lorna gasped.

  “I was able to land a serious blow to the assailant’s leg, but he got away.”

  At this explanation, much of the malice drained from Alfred’s face. “So either the culprit has moved on to other members of the family, or you’re getting too close to the truth?”

  “It certainly seems that way.” Gage crossed to the door. “Either way, you’re returning to the manor with us.”

  His cousin opened his mouth to protest, but Gage would hear none of it.

  “You can eat unprepared food like Kiera and I, and lock your doors until the culprit is caught. But I’m not going to be the one to explain to Grandfather and your mother where you’ve been.”

  “You should go,” Lorna agreed, though her brow furrowed with worry. “At least with Mr. and Mrs. Gage now aware of what is happening, you won’t be alone.”

  Alfred moved forward to take her hands, his eyes soft with concern. “But what of you?” he leaned close to murmur. “I don’t like your being out here in this cottage by yourself.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “They’re not after me, remember.”

  “Yes, but . . .” He began to lower his hand, but she held to it tightly. “What if they knew?”

  She shook her head.

  I glanced at Gage, wondering if he’d witnessed the same thing I had. But he’d politely averted his gaze, staring out the open door toward the sun-dappled moor. His stance was rigid, his gaze conflicted, and I could only imagine what a tumult his emotions were at the moment.

  I turned to watch Alfred and Lorna again as he urged her to take caution. His voice was thick with affection even if the words he spoke were not particularly tender. If this entire affair was, in fact, about the inheritance, then it appeared whoever was behind it truly did have cause for concern. But only if Alfred proved to be honorable. That remained to be seen.

  * * *

  • • •

  The dowager saw us first upon our return to the manor. From the manner in which she hurried down the rear staircase, I suspected she’d been gazing out her bedchamber window again and seen us enter through the garden gate. She stopped short four steps from the bottom, staring down at Alfred with wide, hopeful eyes. I thought he might go to her, but he scarcely spared her a glance as he moved deeper into the house.

  “Yes, Mother, I’m alive. You may rejoice now,” he drawled acerbically.

  Sharp pain radiated across her features before being squashed in the face of my and Gage’s observant gazes. She lifted her skirts and whirled about, marching back up the stairs.

  Gage and I hastened to overtake Alfred as he strode toward the entry hall, where we mounted the main staircase, which was situated nearer to Lord Tavistock’s chamber. It was almost as if now that he was here he was determined to have all of these awkward encounters over and done with. I wondered if he was also set on leaving as much damage in his wake as possible.

  Gage tried to stop Alfred from entering their grandfather’s chamber ahead of us, undoubtedly concerned what such a shock would do to him in his weakened state. But Alfred wouldn’t listen. He charged through the door with barely a knock and threw his arms opened wide.

  “Here I am. Alive. Shall we kill the fatted calf?”

  However, even Alfred wasn’t immune to the sight of his grandfather’s shrunken form sunken into the mattress before him, his face gaunt with illness. His words died away as his face paled.

  Lord Tavistock stared up at him in mute shock. I’m not sure what he believed he was seeing, but the sight of Gage and me entering the room after Alfred made some of the alarm fade from his expression. He tried to speak, but a cough overtook him—possibly brought on by surprise—and he crumpled forward, trying to restrain it.

  When his coughing subsided, Gage stepped forward and began to explain. Such was Alfred’s astonishment that he all but had to be prodded to deliver each aspect of his confession. I don’t know how I expected Lord Tavistock to react, but apparently after the surprise of Alfred’s appearance nothing else could unnerve him.

  He turned to Gage, some of the steely resolve returning to his eyes. “You intend to get to the bottom of this?”

  “I do.”

  He nodded and then resumed his scrutiny of Alfred. “Then it’s more important than ever that you should wed Lady Juliana, and quickly. There’s more than yourself to think of. There’s the future of the viscountcy and all the people who depend on it.”

  Alfred scowled.
“Do you think I’m not aware of that? You’ve been hammering it into my skull since the day my father died.”

  “Yes, well, we always had Rory to fall back on should you fail to do your duty. That might no longer be true.”

  Alfred clenched and unclenched his hands. “I’m not going to wed Lady Juliana simply to beget an heir, your partnership with the Duke of Bedford be damned.”

  I wondered if Alfred would admit he might have already accomplished that responsibility. So long as he wed Lorna. But he remained silent about her.

  Lord Tavistock lifted his head up from his pillows by his own will for the first time in days. “You will. You must. All of Langstone is relying on it. I’ll not let you throw it all away with your stubbornness, not while I still have breath in this body.” He collapsed back, a cough rattling up from his chest.

  I waited for Alfred to snap something back about how he wouldn’t have long to wait. The thought burned in his eyes. And given the fact that he’d not held back from making his previous cutting remarks, I didn’t anticipate him having any qualms about throwing his grandfather’s encroaching death in his face. But he kept the words bottled inside, though his body shook and he had to press his lips together not to speak. Then he turned on his heel and charged from the room in much the same manner as he’d entered it.

  Gage watched his cousin leave and then turned back to his grandfather. The old man lay with his eyes closed, his face tight with what I suspected was a mixture of pain and frustration. From the line that had formed between my husband’s eyebrows, I could tell he wanted to say something, but he backed away from the bed instead.

  “I need to find out if Anderley has returned.” When I didn’t immediately follow, he paused. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll be along in a moment,” I said over my shoulder.

  Gage’s footsteps crossed the room and then receded down the hall.

  Lord Tavistock blinked open his eyes as I moved closer to the bed, pouring some more water into his cup. “I know that face. My Edith used to wear the same expression when she had something on her mind she was determined to say whether I would hear it or not.” His voice was rough from all his coughing.

  I refused to be rushed or bullied, setting the ewer back down and turning to him with the cup.

  “I don’t want any of that,” he groused.

  I met his hard gaze with a stern one of my own. “You will drink it, as much as you can. Or I’ll pour it over your head.”

  He glowered at me a moment longer before relenting. I helped him to sit up and then coaxed him to take as many sips as he could bear even as he flinched at each swallow. When he’d managed all he could handle, I helped him sit back again.

  “Out with it,” he snapped between panting breaths. “Now that you’ve tortured me, you can tell me what you stayed behind to say.”

  “I only wondered why you’re so intent on seeing your grandson unhappy.”

  “Happiness has nothing to do with it. The boy needs to wed. And he needs to do it soon.”

  “But does it have to be to Lady Juliana? What if there were someone else? Someone he genuinely cares for.”

  “If you’re referring to Sherracombe’s natural daughter, then it’s out of the question.”

  I wasn’t surprised he knew about Lorna. If not Rory, then someone else had likely been happy to apprise him of Alfred’s visits to her.

  He sniffed. “I’ll not see my heir wed to a bastard.”

  “That’s it, then. You’re determined for things to end with enmity between you? I know we dance around the truth, but I can tell you’re well aware that you’re dying.”

  He grunted, turning his head away from me.

  “You lie there, hell-bent on making your grandsons toe the mark when you could do so much more good by speaking to them like the grown men they are and healing the rifts that are already between you.”

  He looked up at me wearily. “You don’t understand. It’s not my choice. You’ve already discovered how things end for those who defy the family. You know what it did to Emma.”

  I tilted my head, confused by this remark. “So you’re trying to save Alfred by making him do the family’s bidding?”

  “Yes.”

  “But who is the family?” I asked, trying to make him realize his logic was faulty.

  He stared up at me in irritation, clearly not following my reasoning.

  “Are Gage and I doomed as well because the family does not approve of our match?” My chest clenched, even as I waited for the answer I hoped he would make.

  “Of course not.”

  I exhaled. “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? Because I approve of you.”

  I felt a pulse of affection for this old man, even hearing his words issued in a tone that said I was a fool to think otherwise. I wished Gage could have heard it, too. It might have blunted the sting of his aunt’s earlier comment.

  Something of the point I was trying to make seemed to seep into his understanding, for his scowl softened.

  “Then why can’t you approve of Alfred’s choice in a bride as well?”

  He stared up at me. His mouth was still set in that thin line, but his eyes said he was considering what I said.

  “Change the family’s wishes,” I pleaded softly. “Give Alfred your blessing, too. Before it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I entered the room assigned to Gage through the connecting door to find him and Anderley standing over a man with a great crop of fiery hair, much the same way they’d loomed over Cooper. The sight of them standing shoulder to shoulder, working in accord to interrogate a suspect, always made me wonder just how many times in the past they’d done this.

  Not that the man before them seemed to require much coercion. I suspected the maid had been right, for Moffat looked as if he’d spent the night dead drunk on a bench. His face was unshaven, his hair stood on end, and the ashen hue of his skin made me want to urge Gage and Anderley to back up a step lest they be soiled if he should cast up his accounts.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he stammered, rocking back and forth. “I didn’t want to do it. I knew I shouldn’t have done it. But I did. I did.”

  He was all but sobbing, and I looked to Gage for an answer to what exactly he was confessing to. However, Gage and Anderley appeared perplexed themselves. Perhaps the man was still half-sprung.

  “You admit to committing the pranks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were they your idea?”

  He sniffed and began to shake his head, but then abruptly stopped, pressing his hand to it. “Mr. Trevelyan told me to make trouble. That he needed you to leave.”

  Gage frowned.

  “But then two days later, he told me to stop,” Moffat continued. “That we shouldn’t hinder your investigation.”

  So Rory had been behind the pranks? Why? Had he not trusted us?

  But clearly there was more. Otherwise, why the maudlin tears?

  “What about the rest?” Gage pressed.

  “He . . . he . . .” Moffat swallowed, either fighting nerves or nausea. Possibly both. “He told me to sprinkle some sort of herb he gave me in a jar into Lady Darby’s evening tea.”

  I withheld a gasp.

  “Said it would just make her feel a little queasy.” He began to snivel again in earnest. “Except I got startled, and I dumped in too much. And then a maid almost caught me.” He looked up to plead with Gage and caught sight of me standing in the doorway. His eyes widened, and his already pale face lost all color. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” he repeated again and again.

  I stayed where I was, worried if I moved any closer he might keel over in his chair. So Rory had been behind my poisoning as well? Was he also responsible for Alfred’s? His valet claimed Rory only intended to make me queasy. Was that true? But to wh
at end? He’d seen me leaving Lorna’s cottage earlier that day. Had he hoped the blame would fall on her and shatter whatever trust I held in her?

  Except based on everything we knew, Rory had gone missing immediately following that. He wouldn’t have had time to tell his valet to put the herbs in my tea.

  Clearly pondering the same question, Gage snapped his finger, surprising Moffat enough to make him stop apologizing. “When did Mr. Trevelyan instruct you to poison my wife?”

  “Earlier that day, just after midday.” The man was so cowed, there was little chance he was lying.

  “You told us you hadn’t seen him,” Gage argued.

  “I . . . I hadn’t. I was out on an errand. I found a note from him and the jar when I returned.”

  Gage’s voice was sharp with anger. “Had he asked you to sprinkle herbs or poison on anyone else’s food or drink?”

  “No! Just . . . just Lady Darby’s.”

  My, wasn’t I lucky.

  Gage narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the ruddy man. Then he jostled his left leg as he had with Cooper and Alfred. Moffat recoiled further, but he didn’t wince.

  “What of last night? When did you leave for the tavern?”

  Moffat’s Adam’s apple worked up and down. “A-after dinner.”

  “So you didn’t try to disembowel me with an ax in the middle of the night?”

  The valet’s eyes bulged. “N-no! No, sir. You can ask the publican. I-I was there all night.”

  Considering the state he was in, I had no trouble believing that. Or his earnest promise to inform us immediately if he saw or heard from Rory again. Then Anderley helped him to his feet as Gage sent him on his way.

  “What do you think?” Gage asked, pulling me close to his side.

  “Honestly?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what to think. Is Rory behind all of this or just another victim? Was he intent on hurting me or protecting me, in admittedly his own flawed way?” I leaned back to look up into his face. “But what do you think? He’s your cousin. You know him better than I do.”