A Perilous Perspective (Lady Darby Mystery #10)(46)

“Or that you were once dubbed ‘The Ice Queen,’?” I teased her in turn.

She sighed happily. “Babies make fools of us all.”

“True.” I smiled. “Or rather our love for them.” I picked up one of Emma’s ragdolls, wiggling it under her chin to tickle her.

“I hope it wasn’t Mairi MacCowan’s love for Liam that got her killed.”

I looked up at Charlotte, allowing Emma to grab hold of the doll and stuff one of its appendages in her mouth. “You heard about us finding her dead in the long gallery then.”

Her expression was pensive. It was a look I’d seen before. Just six months prior, in fact, after we’d stumbled over a corpse at Sunlaws Castle just hours after she and Rye had announced their engagement. She’d worried it was an ill omen, and it had taken no small effort at first to convince her otherwise.

“Charlotte, you’re not having second thoughts . . .” I began in concern, but she shook her head, cutting off my words.

“No. I know it’s nonsense to believe in omens, or that Mairi MacCowan’s death has anything to do with the happiness of my and Rye’s marriage.” She bit her lower lip, and I waited, knowing she had more to say. “But I’m not so sure my father will see it that way.”

I offered her a commiserating look. She had already been nervous about her father’s approval of her marriage, and murder—even of a maid and not a family member—only complicated matters.

“Then Gage and I shall just have to get to the bottom of it. Preferably before he arrives,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“Do you think you can?” She sounded afraid to hope.

“We can certainly try.”

She nodded and then flinched. “Oh, but how horribly insensitive I am.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Worrying about how this murder will affect me rather than the poor girl who was killed and her father. You and Gage went to inform him?”

“Yes.”

“How devastated he must be. There must be something we can do for him.”

“If I know my Aunt Cait, she’s already planning something.”

“Oh, but you’re right. I should go see if I can help.” She turned as if she intended to do just that and then stopped to look back at me. “Unless you need me to do something.” She shook her head sadly. “Here you are, meant to be enjoying yourself in the country.” She glanced at Emma. “Infant in tow. And yet again you’re being asked to solve another murder.”

Technically, we hadn’t been asked to solve it. We’d simply taken the matter upon ourselves. But I suspected Barbreck was asking that very thing of Gage as we spoke.

“Does it ever grow tiresome?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.

After all, there was a reason it had been three and a half months since our last inquiry. But it seemed solving mysteries—even gruesome ones—was in our blood, for I felt my thoughts sharpening, my heart quickening, and my muscles tensing in anticipation of unraveling the puzzle presented to us.

“But as has been pointed out to me many times, I am an unusual . . . or rather, unnatural, if you prefer, person,” I added with a wry grimace. “I seem unable to resist the challenge.”

“Kiera, you are not unnatural,” Charlotte stated with gentle firmness. “No matter how peculiar your penchants may seem to others. All I can say is thank goodness for them. For otherwise I would not be here.” She arched her eyebrows in chastisement as much as reassurance as she reminded me of all that had been at stake during my first inquiry. Then, with a pat to my arm, she swept out of the room.



* * *




*

The weather at dawn had seemed fair enough, but as the morning progressed toward midday and we set off for Poltalloch Castle, a thick blanket of clouds rolled in, all but smothering what sunshine could penetrate through the cover. Much as on our journey two days prior, we could not do much talking until the horses had picked their way around the crag at the edge of the loch and we’d passed through the thickest part of the forest. However, Gage’s expression upon mounting into our saddles had conveyed with no difficulty what Lord Barbreck’s reaction had been to the news that a Campbell maid had been found dead in his long gallery.

As the trail widened near the lochan, Gage turned to speak to me, holding up his chestnut gelding so that I could ride alongside him. “Barbreck reacted about how we expected him to,” he muttered wryly. “Raging against the Campbells. Insisting it was proof of their tampering with his artwork. Demanding we investigate.”

“And in his crapulent state, I imagine he was even less pleasant than he’s been the past few days,” I replied.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “He was nursing a ferocious headache. Fairly blistered my and Henry’s ears with his tongue.” His thighs tightened around Titus, his chestnut gelding, easing his gait even slower so that Anderley and Bree could draw nearer. “I asked Henry to stay behind to keep an eye on him, and everyone else,” he added as an afterthought. “The last thing we need is Barbreck interfering and making everything worse.” He turned to his valet and my maid. “What of you? Did you learn anything from the staff?”

Anderley turned to Bree, indicating she should go first.