A Stroke of Malice (Lady Darby Mystery #8) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,102

guessed.

I frowned at the snow-dotted fields stretching away to the north toward the forests and braes surrounding the castle. “So what happened to make Mr. Brunton disappear? Did Helmswick return, expecting a report from him, or did he contact him somehow?”

“I take it you’re as suspicious as I am that young Colum has truly disappeared,” Gage murmured drily.

“People are far too reluctant to share all they know when asked about him.” I tilted my head. “I suppose that could be attributed to the fact that we’re aristocrats and so is Helmswick, but I don’t think so. I think they know he’s hiding. Which reminds me. Did you discover where his mother lives?”

He nodded.

“Then we’d best pay her a visit before the ladies we spoke to warn her first.”

Needing no further explanation, Gage gave directions to the coachman and we set off down a rutted lane. None of the roads in this part of Scotland were well maintained, but this one was particularly bone rattling.

The trek proved not to be worth the discomfort, for Mrs. Brunton did not answer her door. I didn’t know whether this meant she was not at home or she’d been warned not to speak to us, but it was frustrating nonetheless. We didn’t care whether Colum had taken a bribe for such an unscrupulous act. We only wanted to know why Lord Helmswick had taken him up into his carriage, and what, if anything, Colum had informed him.

“I’ll speak to his friends at the brewery again,” Gage said as we jounced our way back down the lane. “Perhaps with a little more encouragement, and the understanding that we already know about Colum’s connection to Helmswick, they might be convinced to talk.”

We could hope, but I worried it would do the opposite.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

We made one more stop in the village of Traquair at the simple block stone kirk surrounded by a small churchyard filled with several dozen weathered gravestones. Dried vines of creepers covered a portion of the walls while three lonely bare trees stood vigil over the spot. But the building was empty, save for the bare pews and sparse white walls, so we returned to the carriage.

I gazed out at the cloud shadows skimming across the open fields and paddocks speckled with sheep and other livestock, my thoughts flitting nearly as quickly. If Helmswick had hired Colum Brunton to spy on his wife, then did that mean he hadn’t snuck back into the castle to confront her with Marsdale? Or had he simply done so two weeks later than we’d initially suspected, after Colum had shared whatever he’d learned, whether real or fictitious, depending on whether he’d actually paid any bribes to the household staff? Was Colum hiding from Helmswick or the killer? What did he know?

I considered all the ways information was carried to and from the castle, all the tradesmen and villagers who came and went from the estate each day. The wheels of our carriage clattered past the row of picturesque cottages which housed some of the staff. A tartan curtain twitched behind one of the windows as we bowled by, our speed slowing only as we reached the narrow bridge spanning the gushing waters of the burn. As we climbed the sloped drive leading up into the grand portico of the castle, my gaze traveled across the long expanse of the gun terrace toward the sight of a wagon parked at the far corner of the castle, heavy with supplies. I suddenly realized we’d overlooked one critical element.

“I need to speak with Mr. Hislop,” I announced, surging toward the door as one of the ducal footmen opened it. He assisted me down, and I strode through the castle doors into the entry passage, the heels of my boots clicking against the flagstones. Gage reached my side just as I entered the guardroom with its vaulted beamed ceiling, but he did not try to halt me.

“Mr. Tait,” I declared to the butler as I tugged at the blue ribbons of my chip straw bonnet in an awkward manner with my left hand. “Is Mr. Hislop at his post?”

“I believe so, my lady,” he replied with complete aplomb.

“Excellent.” I passed him my hat, retaining my gloves and redingote against the chill of the room. “I may have a question or two for you in a moment.”

“Of course, my lady. I am at your service.”

I hurried off again, forcing Gage to scramble after me as I rapped on the door to the porter’s lodge.