A Perilous Perspective (Lady Darby Mystery #10)(82)

“He said all the artwork from Lord Alisdair’s cottage was brought here, so chances are you and Anderley already saw them when you reviewed the manor’s inventory.”

“And the old paintings in the wardrobe?”

“He has no justification.”

I expected as much. Just as I’d expected their discovery would be a blow to Barbreck. One I thought I might have been glad not to witness.

“Anderley and I also rode out to pay another visit to Mr. MacCowan.” Gage broke off when Emma shifted against his shoulder, softly fussing before she settled again.

“And?” I whispered.

“He wasn’t there.”

“Again?” This was the second time we’d been unable to locate him. “Did you ask the staff?”

“I told Wheaton to send for me if anyone sees the man.”

“I suppose that’s all you can do.”

I frowned at the rug. His absence wasn’t truly cause for concern. Not yet. Not when he might merely have gone out for a stroll or to run an errand. After all, we could hardly expect him to remain confined to his cabin. But I felt a stirring of unease nonetheless. I could think of too many unsettling scenarios which cast Mr. MacCowan as either the killer or another victim.

I pushed a strand of hair that had fallen from its pins back from my forehead and cringed at the smell that assaulted my nostrils—a mixture of horse, baby spit, and sweat. “Are you content there with Emma?” I asked Gage, who had slumped lower in his seat, his eyes drifting closed.

He nodded.

“I ordered Mrs. Mackay to take a nap, for I suspect she will be up and down much of the night with Emma. I’m going to ring Bree and ask her to draw me a bath.”

I marched across the room to do just that, and when I turned back, I found Gage had already shifted so that he could recline across the couch with his head propped on the raised end. And if I was not very much mistaken, he was already asleep, or nearly so. I smiled at the sight of his and our daughter’s blond heads so close, their bodies pliant with slumber.

Then I set about preparing myself for my much-needed bath, beginning with removing my amethyst pendant.



* * *




*

An hour and a half later I emerged from my bedchamber feeling much refreshed. I had bathed and washed my hair, Emma had been fed and passed back into Mrs. Mackay’s care, and I was now dressed in one of my favorite gowns for dinner. The elaborate pleats of the deep neckline accentuated my shapelier form, and the pattern of blue and indigo birds complemented my eyes, as did the deep blue sapphire necklace Gage had gifted me for my twenty-seventh birthday two months past.

I closed the door with care and set off down the corridor toward the grand staircase, only to nearly collide with Miss Ferguson as she hastened down the second set of stairs. It was almost a repeat of our encounter the previous afternoon.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes seeming caught by something on my chest—either my necklace or the low décolletage of my gown. She blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

“No harm done,” I replied with a disarming smile. “Is anything wrong?”

But rather than calm her, my words seemed to fluster her instead. “Nay. O’ course not,” she stammered before dipping a hasty curtsy. “Excuse me.”

Before I could utter another word, she’d hurtled herself down the next flight of stairs. I couldn’t help but wonder at and worry about the governess’s behavior. Before, she’d been defiant and almost domineering, especially toward Charlotte, but now she was fidgety and nervous. I supposed finding Mairi’s body like that could have caused such a drastic change in her. Maybe she feared the poisoner would strike again, at another servant, but I felt there might be something more. I was still curious about her visit to Mr. MacCowan.

I’d been waiting to question her again until Bree had reported back with what she’d learned about the governess, but perhaps it was time to speak with her regardless. Whatever Bree had uncovered thus far would simply have to be good enough.

With that decision made, I resumed my stride down the corridor, only to be almost assaulted again. I flinched to the side as Henry’s door flew open, and he came hurrying out still tugging on his coat sleeves.

“Mrs. Gage,” he gasped at the sight of me. “My apologies! I should have been looking where I was going. I haven’t injured you, have I?”

“Just my composure,” I assured him. “And please, isn’t it past time you began calling me Kiera?”

He nodded and corrected himself. “Kiera.”

I offered him a gentle smile and then reached up to adjust the folds of his cravat that he appeared to have mangled. “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“I lost track of the time,” he explained as he submitted himself to my ministrations.

“Still searching Barbreck’s records?”

“Yes. I’d hoped to be finished before dinner, but I’ve still another few hours of work, at the least.”

My gaze lifted to his face before returning to the cravat. “I take it the records are not as organized or straightforward as they should be.”

“That is putting it mildly,” he muttered.

“Then I am doubly grateful to you for taking on the task. There.” I patted his chest as I finished.