A Stroke of Malice (Lady Darby Mystery #8) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,75
agree. But whether he’ll tell us is another matter entirely.”
My shoulders had begun to slide slowly down the pillows, and I shifted, trying to prop myself up so that my neck was not contorted at such an awkward angle. I sucked in a harsh breath as I did so from the stab of pain that shot through my shoulder.
Gage reached out to help me, the deep shadows of concern gathering in his eyes again. Once I was settled, he picked up the glass of whisky from the table. The glass sparkled in the candlelight as he tipped it toward me. “Are you sure you don’t want any of this?”
“No.”
His mouth tightened with some unspoken worry, and then he tossed back the last of the libation. He grimaced at the sharp bite of it at the back of his throat.
“What of the other Kerr brothers?” I asked, returning to our previous topic of conversation.
He shook his head, setting the glass aside. “I don’t know. I can’t recall whether I saw Lord John or Lord Edward.”
“And Traquair.”
His expression turned wry. “Was trading daggered glances with Mrs. Blanchard again.” His father’s mistress.
So Gage had also noticed their animosity at the Twelfth Night Party.
“There’s something there as well.” I plucked at the coverlet with my left hand. “Though whether it has anything to do with the dead body, I don’t know.” I strongly suspected it was something less malevolent, but still unsavory.
Gage had turned to stare at the landscape painting of a Scottish loch which hung on the wall beside the bed. “The duke’s mistress might have a different insight into the family than others do.”
Having made the celebrated actress’s acquaintance, I suspected much of it would be vitriol poured against the duchess, but I took his point. She might possess knowledge that could be helpful to us, whether she knew it or not. “Perhaps I should arrange a private tête-à-tête with her.”
A glimmer of amusement lit my husband’s eyes. “I suspect she might be more willing to share whatever she knows with me.”
Having taken the woman’s same measure, I had to concede he was right, but that did not mean I was pleased by the prospect of his being closeted with her.
Such an aversion must have shown on my face, for he gave a short bark of laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about my meeting with the woman?”
“Of course not.”
But he could tell I was lying. He leaned over me, arching a single eyebrow, the spicy scent of his cologne teasing my nostrils. “Good, because you should be perfectly aware by now that I much prefer inquisitive portrait artists to anyone else.”
I smiled softly up at him, tracing his rugged features with my eyes. The small cleft in his chin and finely sculpted cheekbones, the strong jawline and supple lips, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes that marked the passage of time. I wished I could pull him down to me, could feel his mouth pressed to mine, but I knew any enjoyment would be shattered by the pain in my shoulder and my side.
So instead I merely basked in his gaze. In the almost piercing quality of the crystalline blue hue of his eyes, picking out the silver flecks near his irises. In the ripple of mirth and affection and tenderness that transformed them as he stared down at me.
I lifted my left hand to trace his jaw, only to still as a knock sounded on the door.
Gage surged to his feet. “Thank heavens. Hopefully that’s the surgeon.”
From my position in the bed, I couldn’t see the door, but I heard the duchess’s voice as he opened it. “I heard what happened,” she gasped without preamble. “And I am so dreadfully sorry. Is she badly injured? May I speak with her?”
“She’s in a great deal of pain at the moment,” he replied, and I exhaled in relief, not yet ready to face anyone. “It isn’t a good time for guests.”
“Yes, of course. Oh, but this is terrible. I’ve been telling the duke for years we should have the staircases refurbished and runners added to them. There have been far too many accidents over the decades, but he insists they give the castle character. Allowing us to tread in the footsteps of his ancestors,” she added scornfully. “But this is much too much.”
“The surgeon and physician. Have they been sent for?” Gage managed to ask before she could continue. I had never known the duchess to prattle so.