A Stroke of Malice (Lady Darby Mystery #8) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,66

that once we’ve found this valet, we’ll have our answers. So let us hope it is sooner rather than later.” She arched her eyebrows in haughty expectation, and closed her fan with a snap as she moved to intercept a lord striding across the room toward the door.

Gage and I shared a look of mutual aggravation, for this was precisely what we’d known would happen. A convenient scapegoat he might be, but the valet was also a viable suspect. So no matter our irritation, we could not dismiss their insinuations entirely.

Biting back the snide retort hovering on my tongue, I wandered away in the direction of Marsdale. For all his outlandish behavior, the marquess was in many ways a private man, and I’d wondered if he might speak more freely without Gage present. But before I’d taken more than half a dozen steps, I found myself intercepted by another guest.

“Halloo, Mrs. Gage!” Lady Bearsden waved her hand, eagerly beckoning me toward where she sat ensconced with the Dowager Duchess of Bowmont in one of the alcoves created by the five windows spaced evenly across the projection of the rounded tower on one side of the room. Both distinguished ladies had claimed a Louis Quatorze chair with padded wings, perching with their backs rigidly straight except when they leaned toward each other to confer. I had observed their antics all evening, like two mischievous spiders drawing in the guests one by one to their web to tease and torment before releasing them. They rightly knew their age and status would cow people into obeying them and prevent them from responding rudely to whatever the dowagers had to say.

Lady Bearsden being Charlotte’s aunt, I knew her to be a kindhearted, if impish old woman, and a terrible gossip. However, I eyed her friend with some misgiving. I’d faced my fair share of ridicule and condescension from the matrons of society, and the Dowager Duchess of Bowmont was rumored to be one of the most vicious.

I hoped they weren’t about to offer me more childbirth advice. I’d already been waylaid by a number of helpful ladies offering their dubious counsel. It seemed I was safer to approach now that I was embracing the proscribed duties of a gentlewoman, namely marriage and motherhood, even if I persisted in assisting with these pesky inquiries, but at least it was as a helpmeet to my husband.

I was swiftly set at ease. “Kiera, dear.” She gestured for me to move closer, resting a bejeweled hand on the cream silk sleeve of my evening gown trimmed with yellow ribbons and lace, and embroidered purple birds across the panels of the skirt. “May I ask you to do something for me?”

“Of course.”

“It’s Charlotte.” She spoke in a low voice, her eyes glinting with concern. “I’m afraid she’s taken the discovery of that body quite hard. Says she fears it’s some sort of an omen.” She leaned forward to whisper the word. “Will you speak with her?”

“Yes, of course.” I glanced over my shoulder, searching for her pale blonde tresses. “I should have realized sooner she might be upset.”

After all, at the last house party I’d attended with her, she’d been made to look guilty of committing the gruesome murder of a woman who professed to be her friend, and then nearly drowned by her late husband—the real killer.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lady Bearsden protested. “She wouldn’t wish you to blame yourself, dear. After all, you and your dashing husband are already doing everything you can to resolve the matter. But I do fear she’s taking all of this much too much to heart.” She shook her head. “Poor Rye has tried to talk some sense into her, but she’s quite shaken.”

“I’ll speak to her now,” I assured her.

“Thank you, dear. I believe she’s retired to her chamber.” I turned to go, but she stopped me with a tug on my sleeve, waiting until my gaze had returned to hers before speaking. “And when you’ve finished, come to my chamber.” She nodded significantly to the dowager duchess. “The three of us will have a cozy chat.”

The dowager stared back at me steadily when I glanced at her in interest, but it was evident she had something to say. Something she did not want overheard.

I dipped my head. “I’ll join you as soon as I may.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Charlotte and Rye had been assigned rooms almost directly above the regency gallery, so I passed through the earl’s gallery lined with portraits of the