Seeing as Mrs. Gage urged me to take all precautions, I have followed suit.
As to Lord Helmswick himself, no one here has seen or heard from him since he departed the estate with his wife and children in the early hours of December sixth. Lord Helmswick’s valet, Mr. Warren, is also absent, having accompanied them. The steward is an earnest, if somewhat blundering fellow, and he did mention he’d expected a response to a letter he’d posted to his lordship sometime in mid-December, but he also admitted that the earl had failed to respond to many such communications in the past.
In truth, though they have been gracious about my presence here, thanks to the Duke of Bowmont’s letter of introduction, they did not seem altogether concerned about his lordship’s absence until I made a point of it. Since then, they have begun to come to me with villains behind every corner. Most of them are not worth the ink to record, but I did find one of particular interest.
A few days after his lordship’s departure, a Mr. Patrick Renton, a gentleman from one of the neighboring villages, called at the manor and demanded to speak with him. When told his lordship was not in residence, he asked for her ladyship, and when told she was also absent he seems to have made rather a nuisance of himself. So much so that the staff feared he might become violent.
Apparently, Mr. Renton was not unknown to the staff, for he’d called at the manor before. They were not aware of what his business with Lord Helmswick was, but I inferred they were baffled by his lordship’s willingness to continue receiving the belligerent fellow. One young maid admitted that she believed it had something to do with the earl’s kept woman, who had lived in a cottage at the edge of the estate, practically beneath his wife’s nose, but she couldn’t explain why.
I can’t help but wonder precisely what Lord Helmswick’s association with this man was, and whether Renton followed him to Sunlaws Castle. I plan to pay a visit to the gentleman tomorrow at his home in Bolton. I’ll also ask about the village to ascertain this Mr. Renton’s character and that of the earl, and inquire into the identity of this mistress in the cottage. I shall write again as soon as I know more.
It was dated the day prior, so at least we could be relieved that the Royal Mail moved swiftly between here and Haddington.
“Well, it appears any missive from me asking for information about Mr. Renton will be unnecessary,” Gage remarked, before informing Bree and Trevor about our discovery of the man’s visit to Sunlaws.
“But what does that mean?” Trevor asked, slapping his riding gloves repeatedly into the palm of his opposite hand. “Do you think this Renton fellow killed Helmswick?”
Gage sighed, scraping his hand back through his golden curls. “That’s one possibility. Except the timing of Helmswick’s departure and Renton’s visit do not align. And there is the matter of the body being found in the catacombs. I suppose it’s possible Renton found them on his own, but I doubt it. It’s far more likely that if he was involved, then he was directed there.”
“But by who? Helmswick?”
Gage shook his head in bewilderment.
“Maybe one o’ the servants told him,” Bree chimed in to say. I turned to look up at her where she stood behind the sofa, her gaze still trained over Gage’s shoulder on the letter he continued to hold in his hand. “On an estate this size, there’s plenty who dinna actually live at the castle. He mighta hung aboot the village pub, bought a drink or two for an odd-job man, mole catcher, gameskeeper, or a coal hauler. Doesna matter the post. I’m sure any number o’ the duke’s staff is aware o’ the crypt and the tunnel connectin’ it to the castle.”
Gage tipped his head. “I hadn’t considered that.” His expression turned grim. “I suppose I shall be making another visit to The Sheep’s Heid tomorrow as well.”
“I can do that, if you like,” Trevor offered. “It would be good to be put to use somehow.”
He nodded his thanks and then sighed. “I suppose only one thing is clear. Helmswick’s whereabouts are still unknown. And as such, he can’t be ruled out as the identity of our corpse.”
“There is one other thing,” I murmured, having ruminated silently on the matter. “I’ve heard of this woman in the cottage before.”
They all turned to me