A Perilous Perspective (Lady Darby Mystery #10)(47)

“I spoke wi’ the cook. She was fair broken up. Apparently she’s kent Mairi all her life. Told me she offered Mairi somethin’ to eat when she arrived at Barbreck, but she declined. Said she thought she looked a bit peaked.”

This simply confirmed what we already knew—that Mairi had ingested the poison before she arrived at Barbreck, and more than likely before she reached her father’s cottage—but it was always good to gather more evidence.

“As for Liam’s family,” she continued. “The housekeeper said his mam was dead and his brother lived near Glasgow. She didna ken where else he might go. His friends were all at Barbreck.”

“Wheaton said the same,” Anderley informed us, corroborating the information given to us by all our sources—not that we’d suspected any of them were lying about such a fact. “But he did have a thought. He suggested we might check the cottage where Lord Alisdair lived.”

“Wait.” I turned abruptly in my saddle to look at him. “Lord Alisdair—Barbreck’s brother who acquired the paintings I’ve uncovered were forged—didn’t live at the manor?”

“Not according to Wheaton.” The tone of Anderley’s voice told me he understood exactly why I was irritated by this revelation. And the fact that no one had seen fit to inform us of it.

I exchanged a speaking glance with Gage as Anderley continued.

“He told me Lord Alisdair had lived in a cottage south of Barbreck, a few miles north of the village of Kilmartin, for as long as he or anyone on the staff could remember. That he’d liked his privacy too much and butted heads with his older brother too often to remain at the manor.”

“We need to take a look at that cottage,” I stated firmly. Whether it was still owned by Barbreck or not. And if I knew Barbreck, it was. Not only might Liam be hiding there, but it might also offer up some clues as to Lord Alisdair’s life and his relationship with the forgeries.

“What did you think of what Mr. MacCowan had to say about Liam?” Gage asked me.

“You mean his vehement defense of the man?”

The look in Gage’s eye told me he didn’t view it as being so straightforward either.

“I couldn’t help but wonder if he might be masking something. Though it might simply be his own guilt over not having been able to protect his daughter.” I thought of the odd expression that had passed over his features near the end. “I’m not sure he told us everything he knows.”

Gage nodded. “I had the same thought.” He darted a glance over his shoulder toward Bree. “What of the footman Callum? What did he have to say?”

“Nothing useful,” she grumbled under her breath.

“What do you mean?” I pressed when she didn’t say more, risking her aggravation. It was clear she didn’t wish to elaborate, but Callum’s less-than-helpful comments could also prove to be illuminating.

“All he wanted to talk aboot was how much extra work Liam’s absence caused him, but that he’d do it wi’oot complaint to show Wheaton hoo he can be relied upon.”

My gaze lifted to the trees along the path where a squirrel leapt from branch to branch before scurrying down a trunk off into the forest. It was clear Callum had missed the irony of such a statement. Just as it was clear how unimpressed Bree was. It sounded as if the bloom was off the rose in regard to any admiration she’d felt for the lad.

I turned to look at Gage, trying to catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Anderley riding behind him, curious how he’d taken this news. But he kept his face turned resolutely away, gazing down at the thick patch of brambles which bordered the path on that side and keeping his thoughts to himself. A wise decision.

Bree mumbled something under her breath before adding, “The only thing remotely o’ interest that he had to say was that everyone ken Liam was waitin’ for the Campbells’ butler to be pensioned so he could take his position.”

This wasn’t entirely surprising. The thought that Liam hoped to eventually become butler at Poltalloch had briefly crossed my mind. After all, Calder had appeared older than most butlers, though some men in such a position remained there until they were forced out by either infirmity or death. Perhaps Liam had believed that his promotion to butler, and the greater income that came with it, would allow him to wed Mairi. Their closer proximity would certainly have made it more feasible.

Not that any of that mattered now.

My chest tightened with a pang of empathy for Liam. If, as we suspected, he’d had nothing to do with Mairi’s death, then he must be grieving greatly. I only hoped he was somewhere safe and that his good sense would convince him to return to Barbreck.

“What of Miss Ferguson?” I asked Bree and Anderley. “The governess,” I clarified. “What do you know about her?” Her presence at Mr. MacCowan’s cottage this morning continued to nag at me, and I wondered what, if anything, the other servants made of her.

“No’ much,” Bree replied. “She seems to keep to herself. One o’ the maids threw a nasty look at her back when she walked away after orderin’ her to bring up the children’s dinners, but I’ve seen worse.”

Once again, this answer was as one would expect. After all, governesses were one of those positions that hovered between the upstairs and downstairs. They were a member of the staff and paid a wage, but being better educated and more gently bred, not of the same class. As such, they found themselves in a sort of limbo between both worlds, and not accepted by either. And yet, I still felt there was much more to be learned about Miss Ferguson. Much of her behavior raised too many questions. It wasn’t merely her treatment of Charlotte—though that undoubtedly upset me—but also her presence in places it seemed odd for her to be.