A Perilous Perspective (Lady Darby Mystery #10)(62)
I had to admit he had a point, and I tipped my head, conceding this to him. “Whatever the case, what is certain is that Barbreck has not spent much time in the long gallery in recent years. Not with it being on the topmost floor and his trouble with his knees.” I lowered my gaze to where my hand rested against the writing desk’s oak surface. “Age is also not kind to the eyes, and part of me wonders whether his lordship is too proud to admit he cannot see as well as he once did.”
So, if the paintings had been switched later, that could perhaps explain why he’d not noticed the uneven quality of the paintings in the last ten years or so. However, if they had been changed out much before then, I had to think Anderley was right. Barbreck had allowed himself to be blinded by pride and emotion. If only we could pinpoint when the forgeries had taken their place in the long gallery, then we might have some answers.
“You think Mairi MacCowan’s death has something to do with those forgeries.”
It took me a moment to realize my husband was speaking to me, and that he’d correctly interpreted my ruminations. “I know we don’t have any evidence proving such a thing, but everything inside me is telling me it has to. From everything we’ve learned, Mairi was not a creature of whim. If she was in that long gallery, then she was there for a reason. I just don’t know what. Not yet.”
Gage reached out to still my gesticulating hands, offering me a gentle smile. “You don’t have to sell me on the idea. I learned my lesson long ago never to doubt your intuition.”
My insides warmed at this simple demonstration of his confidence and faith in me.
“Then if we can figure out how and where the forgeries came from, we might better understand who killed Mairi. Or vice versa,” Henry summarized.
“Yes,” I agreed, grateful to him for putting it so succinctly.
Gage straightened his relaxed posture. “Then, Kiera, why don’t you continue to focus on the forgeries, since you obviously have the most expertise in that area.”
I made a note on the list before me. “I’ll finish examining Barbreck’s collection so we know how many forgeries we’re being confronted with and begin trying to figure out how they’re related, and how they connect to Mairi.” I peered up at Gage. “One of your priorities needs to be finding Liam Gillies. We need to know exactly what symptoms Mairi was exhibiting before she died. Maybe then we can better identify the poison she ingested.”
“As to that,” Bree interjected from her position standing behind the back of one of the chairs. “I wondered whether it might be some sort o’ pigment. Somethin’ ye would use in your paints.”
I tilted my head, much struck by this idea.
“I ken how poisonous some o’ those substances are. ’Tis why ye trained me to mix ’em for ye while ye were expectin’ the bairn.”
“And that would tie in with the art forgeries,” I added, letting her know I was following her reasoning. “It’s an interesting possibility. Some pigments contain arsenic, antimony, or lead, among others.” I frowned. “But most of those cause severe gastric distress. And I’ve never heard of them causing someone to bleed from their facial orifices.” I narrowed my eyes. “I shall have to think on it.”
Gage’s face had tightened during this litany, perhaps unhappy to be reminded of the potential dangers I faced while pursuing my passion for painting. But he knew how much my art meant to me and how careful I was with my pigments, so he kept his apprehensions to himself.
“I also find myself returnin’ to Mairi’s position at Poltalloch,” Bree confessed, her brow scored with deep furrows beneath her strawberry blond curls.
“What do you mean?” I asked her.
“Weel . . .” She paused, seeming to sift through her impressions. “I ken ye were told that Mairi took her position at Poltalloch because there were no positions open here at Barbreck, but I’ve visited enough big houses like this one to ken that there are always positions open for hard workers like Mairi. Especially if they’ve family already on the staff.”
“Then you think Mairi went to work at Poltalloch of her own volition?” I replied, having also pondered the oddness of the maid’s employment choice, though I hadn’t been able to see it as clearly as Bree.
Her gaze was solemn. “I think it highly likely.”
“If that’s true, then it raises a number of new questions,” Gage remarked. “For why would she choose to work for a different household than her father?”
“And a different household than her beau,” I reminded them. “Though I suppose we don’t know exactly when Mairi and Liam began courting.”
“Particularly when that different household is rumored to pay less and shows a markedly greater rate of changes in its staff,” Anderley drawled, his expression conveying his opinion of that fact.
“Perhaps she was enticed there for some reason,” Henry suggested, speaking into the brief silence that had fallen after all these statements.
We all turned to look at him more fully, and he shifted his feet as if uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Of the five of us, he was the newest addition to our investigative unit, and also still growing accustomed to his relationship with his half brother. It had been evident to me from the beginning how much he wished to make a favorable impression on Gage, but perhaps that also extended to our inquisitive quartet.