least appealing. Especially with a dead body now in residence.
The duchess, Philip, and Alana had done their best to ease the guests’ worries, and assure them they were safe, but even when Gage and I joined our voices to the chorus, their concerns could not be swayed.
“What am I to say? I can hardly keep them here against their wishes,” the duchess implored us as we stole a few moments to confer in a corner of the regency gallery, which was utilized as an immense drawing room. The walls were painted a pale pistachio green, while the numerous windows were swathed in yards of sumptuous velvet in a slightly darker tone. Sofas and chairs in shades of crimson and beige-pinks with gilded frames shimmered and reflected the numerous mirrors and the light from the three crystal chandeliers hanging overhead.
The duchess’s face was pale with strain and her eyes wreathed in dark circles, made all the more pronounced by the dark midnight blue hue of her dinner dress with blond lace overlay. Given the fact she was never anything but perfectly coifed and highly aware of the effect one’s clothing had upon others, I suspected this was a conscious choice. Though whose sympathy she was hoping to evoke, I didn’t know. I was cynical it was ours.
We’d overheard her giving a baron and his wife permission to depart early the next morning, and wondered how many others she’d granted such consent to. However, I had to admit she was right, and I told Gage so with a sigh.
“This is different than the murder at Gairloch,” I murmured, referencing our first inquiry together at my brother-in-law’s Highland estate. “For one, the guest list is much larger. And for another, we already know that the majority of these people were far from here several weeks ago when the actual murder took place. In truth, they might hinder us.”
Gage’s mouth flattened in annoyance. “Tait did mention a pair of inquisitive gentlemen had to be discouraged from entering the cellars. Apparently, they thought viewing the site where a murder had taken place might be a great lark. How many other curious fools will attempt the same thing?”
Given the number of Londoners, both high and lowborn, who had flocked to see the home of the infamous London Burkers not two months past, eager to see where the notorious murders had taken place, I would not care to wager such attempts to enter the doom were over. Society accused me of being ghoulish, but many of them were no better.
Gage narrowed his eyes at the guests milling about the room, as if he might be able to distinguish which of them had such an exploit in mind. “If possible, I would like to avoid wasting my time searching for imprudent meddlers lost in the warren of chambers down there.”
“Then may I tell the guests they can leave before this snowstorm they’re saying will arrive tomorrow can block the road through the pass?” the duchess asked.
I thought of Anderley on the road to Haddington, and sent up a prayer he would complete his journey before it swept eastward.
“Anyone who was not present at the castle at any point during the month of December may depart,” Gage specified. “And if any of those other people attempt to leave, we’ll be forced to view their actions as highly suspicious, if not pointed evidence of their guilt.”
Her gaze flicked across the room toward where Lord Marsdale sipped broodingly from a glass of brandy, not even pretending to listen to the man prattling on beside him. “I understand,” she said. I thought she might move off then to disseminate this information, but she hesitated. Something in her dark eyes made me wonder if she was about to defend the marquess, but instead she flicked open the fan dangling at her wrist, waving it lazily in front of her face as she spoke. “I heard you’ve turned your attention to Lord Helmswick’s valet.” Her gaze drifted over the assemblage. “I think that’s a wise course.”
I nearly rolled my eyes. Of course she did.
Gage’s frowning visage told me he was harboring similar cynicism. “It is the natural next step in our efforts to uncover the identity of the victim. Either this valet is safely in Paris with his lordship, or he is also missing. And if it is the latter, we need to know why. Until then, we cannot make any assumptions.”
“Naturally.” A small furrow formed between her eyes. “But I can’t help feeling