the side of a hill, gaining speed and momentum as it travels.” He tilted his head. “Not an inapt comparison, given how slick the stone on those stairs has worn down to.”
I stared at our joined hands, contemplating this new information.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.”
But even I could hear the uncertainty that hovered at the end of my answer.
Gage dipped his head toward me. “You don’t sound sure.”
“Well, I didn’t see anyone, but it was rather dark, and I got a strange feeling once or twice. Like perhaps someone was watching me.”
“Or following you?”
“Maybe.” I frowned. There had been that shadow that had flitted at the corner of my eye in the doorway to the solar. Maybe it hadn’t been Rye. Maybe it had been someone else. Someone with less noble intentions. “But it would have been difficult for them to trail me across the expanse of that picture gallery without my seeing them.”
I chastised myself for not heeding that unsettling sensation in the pit of my stomach, and after I’d just spoken to Charlotte about knowing the difference. If I’d paused to light a candle to take with me, might I have seen the person who may or may not have pushed me? Or would I have burned myself or set my dress on fire when I stumbled down the stairs?
I sighed, but it was too late to second-guess my actions now. The damage—whatever it was—was already done. Shying away from examining that fact too closely, I tightened my grip on Gage’s callused hand. There was no doubt his thoughts were troubled, but from the manner in which his eyes traced the elegant scrollwork carved into the wood of the headboard I knew something else had occurred to him. That’s when I realized there might be another way of approaching the information we sought.
“Who was missing from the regency gallery before the footman summoned you?”
His gaze shifted to meet mine.
“That is where you were, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but . . . the chamber is so large. In that crowd, there was no way I could have noted everyone who was present and who was not.”
“But you did notice someone who was not there, or you’re fairly certain of it.” I gentled my voice. “I can see it in your eyes. Sebastian?”
When still he did not speak, my nerves tightened with dread. It must be someone whose possible perfidy would hurt me much more than a mere acquaintance.
His chest rose and fell on a swift intake of breath that seemed to shudder through him. “There were two, actually. But their absence may mean nothing.”
I waited for him to continue.
“The Duchess of Bowmont slipped out a few minutes before. Though she had been stepping in and out all evening, no doubt managing the details of the party and the desires of so many of the guests to depart the next morning.”
That was true. There was nothing odd in that. Which meant he must be anxious about accusing the other person. “Who else?”
The corners of his pale blue eyes tightened. “Marsdale.”
My heart squeezed in my chest.
“I noticed that he was missing not long after you left the room.”
There was a question in his eyes, and I answered it. “Lady Bearsden asked me to speak with Lady Stratford. The discovery of that dead body had upset her.”
“Understandable after what she endured at Gairloch,” he replied in a controlled voice. I wondered if he was also contemplating what I’d suffered.
“Yes.”
I didn’t want to think about how Marsdale might have pushed me down the stairs. Yes, he was an inveterate scoundrel, but at some point along the topsy-turvy road of our acquaintance I’d begun to think of him as a friend. I didn’t want to believe there was true malice in him. Or that he could direct it at me. So I turned my mind to other possibilities.
“Was Lady Helmswick present?” Perhaps Marsdale had stepped out to be with her.
Gage’s gaze shifted over my shoulder, narrowing in thought. “No, I don’t believe she was. But I only recall noticing that because I’d thought maybe you would seek her out to speak with her.”
“What of the duchess’s other children?”
“Lord Henry was there. He seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the corner near the sideboard, making only the most minimal of conversation with those who approached him.”
I realized I recalled seeing him there as well, his silvery gray eyes assessing those who wandered near his roost. “He knows something.”
This bit of insight did not surprise him. “I