A Stroke of Malice (Lady Darby Mystery #8) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,105

at any of the ton’s gaming hells. While not a particular patron, Gage was familiar enough with such establishments to know the usual roster.

“Did Mr. Renton make any threats?” Gage asked, trying to grasp how desperate the man was for money. After all, he’d been motivated enough to follow Helmswick here.

“Oh yes. Claimed he was in possession of a secret so damaging that if it became known it would utterly ruin Helmswick.”

I stiffened. Lady Helmswick had also claimed to possess a secret that would force her husband to let her live separately from him, and then denied it. Could these secrets be one and the same?

“But he gave no indication as to what this secret might be?” Gage pressed, unaware of my thoughts.

“I told him he would have to take the matter up with Helmswick when he returned from the continent. That it was none of our affair.” His expression hardened. “But if he tried to come anywhere near my sister or Sunlaws Castle again, the duke would have him charged with harassment and trespassing.”

Gage’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And that’s the last you saw of him?”

Lord John nodded. “I suppose he took my words to heart.”

“Did you tell Lady Helmswick any of this?” I asked.

His gaze flicked to me. “No. And I’ll thank you not to do so. She doesn’t need to be troubled by the matter. Not when she can’t do anything about it.”

Gage asked a few more inconsequential questions before we took our leave from him. Ever conscious of spying eyes and attentive ears, I waited until we’d closed the door to our sitting room before speaking.

“Please tell me you found all of that as suspicious, and exasperating, as I did?” I snapped as I sank down on the sofa, tossing my gloves to the side.

His eyes were hard with cynicism as he perched on the arm of the chair opposite me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you mean the part when Lord John pretended not to have remembered the incident until now, or the part where he ever so politely refrained from pointing out that this Renton fellow had a clear motive to kill and rob Helmswick?”

“Except all this time he’s stringently denied the possibility that the body could be Helmswick’s.” I sank deeper into the cushions, awkwardly tugging at the buttons running down the length of my redingote to reveal my peacock blue gown beneath.

“Maybe he’s changed his mind.”

“Or maybe . . .” I bit my lip, struggling to puzzle my way through this unforeseen development. “Could Lord John be attempting to cast doubts on the identity of the corpse?”

Gage’s gaze dropped from the spot he had been staring at on the ceiling. “By introducing Patrick Renton to the equation—a man dressed in gentleman’s clothes, who has not been seen in three weeks.” He frowned. “But if Renton is the victim, then who is supposed to have killed him and then hidden him in the crypt? And why not tell us about him earlier? Why wait for Tait or one of the other servants to mention him?”

I couldn’t answer that. Nor could I explain how precisely Mr. Renton fit in to all we had learned. Was he involved somehow, or was he merely a distraction? From everything we’d learned, Lord Helmswick appeared to have departed from Sunlaws on December seventh, and yet this Mr. Renton had not come calling until approximately a week later. Had Helmswick returned to the castle unseen? Or was all of this naught but wild supposition?

Gage pushed to his feet, crossing the room to gaze out the window at the sun-dappled countryside. “I’ll write to Anderley and ask him to look into this Mr. Renton, if that’s his name. There’s every possibility he visited Helmswick’s estate before coming here.” His brow was heavy with his ruminations, his muscled frame rippling with the need to do something.

“You wish you could travel to Haddington, don’t you?”

He didn’t attempt to deny it. “A great deal of what has been going on here does seem to hinge on whatever Anderley uncovers there.” He released his grip on the drapery, stepping back from the window. “But my place is here.”

“With me, you mean?” I searched his beloved face, seeing the lines of worry. “Trevor is here. If you feel you should go, you could set him as my guard. I’m sure he’d even sleep on that dreadfully uncomfortable sofa in my bedchamber if you wished.”

His mouth creased into a brief smile. “I am glad your