Mortal Arts (A Lady Darby Mystery) (12 page)

Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. I told him he was lying. I never wanted to hear any of the details.”

“And he only told you this after you returned with the petition forcing him to allow you to remove your brother?” Gage’s tone of voice held a tinge of skepticism in it—one most would not have heard, but I did—and I blessed him for it.

“He kept telling me I was making a terrible mistake by removing William from his care, but I refused to listen. The man was an oily, underhanded bastard.” He pounded the arm of his chair with his fist. “I was not going to leave my brother in his institution.” His breath rasped in and out of him as if he was imagining doing bodily harm to this Dr. Sloane. But then his face crumpled, and I could see the fear and doubt return. “But what if I was wrong?”

“You’re not,” I declared. “It doesn’t matter what kind of gammon this doctor tried to feed to you. He obviously can’t be trusted. Just look at William.” I gestured toward the ceiling. “He
clearly
did not prosper under his care. I would rather see your brother consigned to perdition than returned to that man’s tender mercies.”

Michael began to look more hopeful, and then Gage spoke up. “Now, let’s not be too hasty. I agree that this Dr. Sloane is not the right man to handle Lord Dalmay’s care. And he certainly seems capable of lying to get his own way. But we must ask ourselves why he would do so. Why would he be so anxious to keep Lord Dalmay in his care that he would fabricate a heinous crime?”

“My father was paying him a significant amount of money every year for my brother’s upkeep,” Michael said.

I gestured to our host. “Well, there you go.”

“But I told him I would no longer pay the fee,” he added in dismay. “I said I refused to lend support to such a dishonest establishment.”

“But if you hadn’t gotten your brother released, would you really have done that?” Philip asked, looking at his friend kindly for the first time that morning. “Would you really have been able to withhold the funds without worrying that this Dr. Sloane would have punished William for it?”

Michael sank his head into his hand. “I don’t know.”

“And Sloane would have seen that weakness. So it still could be about the money.”

“Were you allowed to visit William in his room?” I asked Michael. “Were you allowed inside the asylum at all?”

“No. Not past Dr. Sloane’s office, at any rate. He has burly guards stationed at each of the doors, and I wasn’t allowed even a peek past them into the confines of the asylum.”

“Not even when you returned that last time to collect your brother?” Gage asked in some surprise.

He shook his head. “No. William was brought out to me.” His face darkened. “They had him in chains.”

Anger sparked inside me, and I stoked it, wanting it to burn away the other uncomfortable emotions churning in my gut. “Then William’s release could mean the loss of another valuable commodity for Dr. Sloane.”

The three men turned to look at me.

“Secrecy.”

I could tell I had grabbed their attention, particularly Gage, who seemed to be mulling something over in his mind that he didn’t like.

“Has William talked about what happened to him there?” Philip asked.

Michael frowned. “Not much. He’s mentioned a few things to me, but most of what I know has come from studying his drawings.”

I leaned forward. “Like the ones we saw last night?”

He nodded.

“Would he talk to his manservants?” This would seem a sensible question to Philip, who was far more familiar with his valet than most gentlemen.

Michael narrowed his eyes, considering the matter. “Maybe Mac. But I really don’t know.”

Philip blew out a long breath and sank deeper in his chair. “So we don’t actually know what William witnessed in the asylum, or whether it would cause Dr. Sloane alarm if it got out.”

“I think just the fact that he was willing to bypass the proper channels to take Will in as a patient says a lot about Dr. Sloane and his ‘retreat.’” I sneered.

“Why on earth didn’t your father get a second opinion?” Philip asked in bewilderment.

We lapsed into silence. There was no answer to that. None of us knew what the old Lord Dalmay could possibly have been thinking, least of all Michael, who looked utterly overwhelmed and dejected.

“It’s been troubling you greatly, hasn’t it?” Gage told Michael. “What Dr. Sloane told you?” His friend slowly lifted his head to look at him. “You don’t want to believe it, and yet you have no way of disproving it without asking your brother. But you don’t want to ask him, because you’re afraid of what he will say. Will he admit to it? Will he deny it? Will he even remember it at all?”

The stricken look on Michael’s face was all that was needed for us to know that Gage spoke the truth. “He was so fragile. You should have seen him when I first brought him here. He could barely recall my name.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t ask him about it. I didn’t want to ask him about it. I didn’t want to make him think I doubted him.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and turned to stare out at the bright light pouring through the windows. I wished I were standing next to the firth again with the sun beating down on me, no matter how stiff the wind.

“What if William genuinely doesn’t remember? How will we ever discover the truth?” I demanded of myself as much as them, desperately wanting an answer.

Philip’s voice was kind. “With so little to go on, we may never know.”

Gage frowned. “But if he killed a woman . . . ?”

“
If
.
If
he killed a woman, that’s what’s key here. And all that connects William Dalmay to a dead woman is Dr. Sloane’s word.”

Gage rubbed his finger over his lips, considering what Philip had said. “But what about this missing girl?”

“What about her?” I asked.

“Well, clearly Dalmay is worried that his brother may have had something to do with her disappearance; otherwise he would never have brought any of this up for discussion.”

I turned to Michael, disheartened to see that Gage was right.

“I don’t think he did.” He tried to sound assertive. “I don’t think he knew her at all. But . . . how am I to be absolutely certain?” He seemed tormented by the possibility, and I couldn’t bear to see him doubting his brother that way. I couldn’t bear feeling that I doubted him myself.

“Then we’ll just have to go about proving he’s not involved,” I declared.

Michael looked confused. “How do we do that?”

“We’ll simply have to find this missing girl.”

“But we know nothing of her disappearance,” Gage said dampeningly, but I could see the spark of interest in his eyes.

“Well, that’s easily remedied. Michael, can you arrange a meeting with the girl’s father as soon as possible?”

“Of course.”

“Then we should pay a visit to whatever authorities are handling the investigation into her disappearance and learn what they’ve uncovered so far.”

“They won’t appreciate our interference,” Gage told me, though I noticed he had inferred his assistance in the matter by using the word
our
instead of
your
.

My heart began to beat faster at the realization that Gage and I would be working together again.

“Maybe not.” I arched my eyebrows. “But has that ever stopped you before?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “No.”

An answering smile curled my lips. “I thought not.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“P
hilip tells me you’ve decided to stay.” Alana’s voice was carefully modulated, but I could hear her concern and see it in the reflection of her bright blue eyes in the mirror. I was relieved at least to hear that my brother-in-law hadn’t decided to resume his campaign to convince me to retreat to Edinburgh with them. After the revelations in the study, I had been prepared for further objections or, even worse, for Philip to make good on his threat to remove me forcefully from Dalmay House.

I watched as her maid secured the last few pins in her hair. “Yes.”

She reached out to fiddle with the hairbrushes on the vanity before her. “Do you think that’s wise?”

The maid moved to the corner of the bureau, bottles clinking as she repacked my sister’s valise. It was clear that she was listening even if she was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

“I’m not sure that wisdom is the predominating consideration in this matter, but, yes, I believe I’m using good judgment.”

My sister’s gaze locked with mine. “Jenny,” she told her maid. “Give us a moment.”

The maid glided silently across the carpet and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

Alana inhaled deeply. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

I crossed the room to rest my hands on her shoulders and smiled sadly at her reflection. “Yes.”

She sighed and dropped her head. The scent of her French perfume wafted up, so similar to the fragrance our mother had worn, and made my heart clench. I knew she had chosen that particular cologne on purpose, but I wasn’t sure she realized I was aware of its sentimentality.

Alana nodded in resignation. “I knew it was silly to ask, but I guess I felt I had to try.” She grinned sheepishly and reached back to clasp my hand where it rested on her shoulder. “Of course I realized you couldn’t remain with me forever, but I never thought I would be saying good-bye so soon.”

I squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “It won’t be for long. Just until William is better able to cope. You understand why I must try to help him?” I asked, suddenly anxious for her to know I wasn’t abandoning her.

Her penetrating gaze told me she understood far better than I could have hoped. “I do.”

I leaned forward to wrap my arms around her, pressing my cheek to hers. “Promise me you will take care of yourself. And this troublesome little one,” I added, making my sister sniffle and giggle. “Listen to what your physician tells you. Unless he tells you nonsense, like you should be eating less. You’re eating for two, and once you get to Edinburgh and your stomach stops protesting, you need to put some weight back on.” I stood up to shake my finger at her. “I expect you to have gained at least a stone the next time I see you.”

“All right . . .”

“Don’t let Philip and this physician naysay me on this. You and I know better what you need than two silly men.”

Alana turned to grab hold of my wagging finger. “Kiera . . .”

“And I expect you to send for me if you need me. No hesitating. I’ll be the one to decide whether you’re being daft once I see you.”

“Kiera,” Alana said in a sharper voice, pulling me closer.

“Promise me,” I ordered, feeling terrified that something might go wrong with Alana or the baby while I was away. I had never seriously considered such a thing happening, but now I was worried I was doing the wrong thing by staying at Dalmay House.

Alana clasped both of my hands between her own and stared reassuringly into my eyes. “I promise.”

I nodded and dropped my gaze to her too-flat belly. Swallowing against the lump that had formed at the back of my throat, I reached out to press my hand to the deep claret fabric of her traveling costume. “And you behave in there, you hear me? Or you’ll have your aunt Kiera to answer to.” I had intended to be stern, but my voice emerged much more like a caress.

I straightened to find my sister watching me with a strange smile curling the corners of her lips.

“What?” I demanded.

She shook her head. “I’ve just always been the mothering one. It’s a bit strange to find our roles reversed.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head to stare out the window to my right.

“And . . . kind of nice,” she admitted.

I glanced back to find a welcome glow cresting her wan cheeks.

I reached out to run a thumb over the dark purple circle under one of her eyes. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Alana tilted her head. “Are you saying I don’t look my best?”

I arched an eyebrow in scolding.

“Don’t worry, dearest,” she told me, rising to her feet. “The drive to our town house is less than ten miles. I’ll be able to rest tonight.”

I knew she was right, but I wouldn’t stop worrying about her until I knew she had received a full night’s sleep and passed a few days without losing the contents of her stomach. “Send me a note to let me know you’ve arrived safely,” I requested, sinking into the chair she had vacated.

“Of course.”

Alana pulled the evening gown she had worn the previous night out of the wardrobe and laid it over the golden coverlet on the bed, and then turned back to pull out two more dresses. I knew my sister had no intention of actually doing the packing—that was her maid’s job—but she needed something to do with her hands while she worked around to asking me about whatever was on her mind. I suspected it had something to do with William Dalmay, but I should have guessed my sister was contemplating something far more treacherous.

“Philip told me about the promise he extracted from you.”

“Yes?” I replied cautiously, knowing that careless tone. Wiser people than I had failed to heed it and walked straight into whatever trap Alana had set for them.

Realizing I wasn’t fooled, she turned to look at me. “Why are you pretending to be so adverse to his company?”

“Whose company?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Give over, Kiera. You know exactly who I’m speaking of.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the bed with her hip. “You can’t just ignore him. You’re going to have to speak with Mr. Gage.”

I glared at the pale silk wallpaper between the bedchamber’s two windows and wished my sister would mind her own business. If I had wanted her advice on Gage, I would have asked for it.

“Are you worried there’s something between him and Miss Remmington?”

I scoffed. “No.”

“Because if you are, that’s just silly . . .”

“I’m not,” I told her firmly.

“Good,” Alana replied, seeming to be at a loss for words. Unfortunately that lasted only for a moment. “Then why are we back to the same antagonizing behavior that began your acquaintance?” I opened my mouth to deny it, but she spoke over me. “Don’t think I missed the looks you sent his way last night. And Philip told me about your argument after I left the drawing room. You do realize the man is showing every sign that he cares.”

I scowled and mumbled under my breath, “Except being honest with me.”

She frowned. “Did you ask him why he left Gairloch the way he did?”

I glanced up at her, suspecting for the first time that she really did know more about what went on between Gage and me than she let on. “I tried, but the man is as tight-lipped as a corpse. You realize, I know next to nothing about him. And what I do know I’ve had to glean from others’ comments.”

Alana smiled in commiseration. “I’m sure you know far more about him than you think. At least, as it pertains to what matters. You’re just missing some of the details.”

“
All
the details,” I groused.

Alana crossed the room to rub her hand over my back. “Give him time,” she told me gently. “Men are secretive creatures—Mr. Gage more than most. When he’s ready, he’ll tell you. And when he does, you’ll know just how much he esteems you.”

* * *

M
y maid was harder to convince of the necessity of my staying at Dalmay House. Upon returning to my chamber to change out of my walking ensemble into a morning dress, I found Lucy preparing to pack my bags. And when I told her to do the reverse, and unpack the rest of the gowns that had remained in my trunk, she didn’t hold back from conveying her displeasure. She pouted and fussed and, as she’d done the previous night, tugged and jostled me as she helped me to dress. I was so out of sorts with her by the time we finished that I nearly ordered her to return to Gairloch on the next mail coach. The Dalmays would have a maid I could borrow for the duration of my stay, and I could find a new lady’s maid when I reached Edinburgh. All that kept me from doing so was a last-minute confession in which Lucy once again admitted her anxieties about William’s much-gossiped-about “malady.” But, in light of Lucy’s generally poor attitude and performance over the past week, my sympathy extended only so far, and I left my bedchamber before I said something I would later regret.

Charging down the corridor, I turned the corner to find Gage and Philip standing near the top of the grand staircase in heated conversation. My brother-in-law’s back was to me, but I could hear him speaking in sharp, clipped tones, even if I could not make out the words, while Gage glared at him.

My steps slowed. I did not particularly want to encounter either of them at that moment, but given my intended destination and my promise to Philip, I knew I couldn’t avoid Gage for long. I considered postponing my plans and retreating to my room, where more of Lucy’s theatrics awaited, or to Alana’s room, where her maid would simply ignore my presence, but at that moment Gage’s gaze shifted, bringing me into view over Philip’s shoulder. I could see the icy displeasure he had aimed at Philip in the depths of his eyes. Philip glanced my way to see what Gage was looking at, his face still tight with anger, before turning back to finish whatever he had been saying.

I narrowed my eyes, having a strong suspicion they were discussing me. I stiffened my spine and marched toward them as both men turned to observe my approach.

“When will you be departing?” I asked Philip.

“Within the hour.”

I nodded coolly. “I shall be there to see you off. In the meantime . . .” I turned to face Gage, deciding now was as good a time as any to test his compliance with Philip’s and my wishes. “I would like to pay a visit to William. Will you escort me?” The words tasted like dirt coming from my lips, but I managed to choke them out with what I thought was an admirable display of indifference.

I was sure Gage was aware of my displeasure anyway, but either because of Philip’s mitigating presence or his own decision to exercise restraint, he chose not to make an issue of it. His eyes flicked to my brother-in-law before returning to me. “Certainly.”

He offered his arm and I grudgingly accepted it, allowing him to steer me toward the staircase leading to the next floor. We were silent as we climbed the steps, both wrestling with our own thoughts. I knew that Gage didn’t want to consent to my seeing Will as much as I didn’t want him to accompany me. Neither of us was happy with this arrangement. At least we were in agreement on that.

I turned to him in question as he reached into his inside coat pocket and extracted a key.

“Dalmay gave me a copy of the key when Cromarty informed him of his . . . stipulation for your staying here,” he explained.

I frowned, wondering what exactly Philip had told Michael and Gage, but was glad I hadn’t been present for the conversation. I wasn’t certain I would have been able to hold on to my temper.

He hesitated at the door, and I looked up to find him studying me. He seemed to be weighing his words. “Kiera,” he began, “I never meant to . . .”

“Please,” I interrupted, holding up my hand. “Let’s not do this. Not now.” I was so tired of arguing. I didn’t want to have yet another quarrel with Gage. Especially not when my thoughts should have been focused on Will so I could prepare myself for whatever I was about to encounter.

I pressed my free hand to my temple and risked a glance at Gage’s face. A pucker across his brow told me he was not happy that I’d cut him off, but he turned back to the door without a word to insert the key into the lock. His shoulders were rigid with tension.

I could tell I had hurt his feelings in some way. Perhaps he had been about to make a peace offering, and I had silenced him before he could speak. But I couldn’t be certain, and in my present state of mind, I simply couldn’t risk the possibility of another disagreement.

The lock released with a twist of the key, and Gage pushed open the door on its well-oiled hinges.

“Did Michael even really need to give you a key?”

He looked down at me with a frown.

I nodded toward the keyhole. “You probably could have picked that lock with unsettling ease.” I tilted my head. “Unless the skills you bragged to me about at Gairloch were exaggerated.”

Gage arched a brow. “I never bragged. But, yes, I could undoubtedly pick this lock.” He ran his fingers over the metal.

I watched as he locked the door behind us, using the key. “I taught myself to pick the lock to my art studio door,” I told him, wondering why I felt the need to share this bit of information.

“Did you?” he replied with indifference.