or sketch, which would be my normal choice of distraction, and reading seemed incapable of holding my attention. All I could do was wallow in my own thoughts, struggling to push aside my worries and tamp down my irritation at being unable to pursue answers to the dozens of questions which had occurred to me as I lay there all day. Add to that the annoyance I suddenly felt at having to share my incredibly attractive husband rather than keep him to myself, and it was no wonder my patience was wearing thin.
“What of Mrs. Blanchard? What did she have to say?”
He chose to ignore the lightly clipped tone of my voice. “A great deal. But nothing of much use. She did very little to hide her contempt for the duchess, or her obvious frustration that she will never usurp her in that role. That is, unless, of course, she dies.” His eyes glittered with such disapproval that I was left with no doubt she had actually stated aloud something so vulgar. “But even then, she’s deluding herself if she believes the duke is going to marry her. In truth, I think he’s tiring of her already.”
“What of the animosity between her and Traquair?”
“She claims it’s because he’s a pompous prig. That he objects to his parents’ affairs.”
Except I hadn’t observed him behaving in such a manner toward Lord Wansford, his mother’s current lover. In fact, they appeared to be quite cordial toward each other. All the same, I supposed it was possible. Men did often give other men an amount of leverage they would never accord to women who behaved similarly.
“I still think there’s something more to it than that,” I maintained. “The level of hostility they aim at each other seems to far exceed such an explanation.”
“I agree. But Mrs. Blanchard herself is not going to admit to it. And I doubt Traquair will either.”
“Then perhaps his sister or one of his brothers knows. I’ll see if I can draw the information from Lady Helmswick tomorrow.”
I was relieved when he didn’t object to this or the implication that I would be leaving my bedchamber the following day, but his thoughts seemed to be focused on something else.
“There was one thing the waspish woman said that I thought worth noting.” He looked up from the spot on the wall he had been contemplating, the hollows of his eyes cast in shadow. “I know she meant it to be derogatory, but she said that nothing was more important to the duchess than her children. Not the duke, and certainly not her lovers. That she would do anything for her brood.”
The implication was clear. “Even murder?”
“Or helping to hide one.”
I wondered if that was what Lady Bearsden had been hinting at when she told me to ask the duchess the real reason she had hastened to her daughter’s side at Sunlaws. Had Lady Helmswick needed her to help conceal her crime?
I pressed a hand to my forehead. “If the body is Helmswick, then I am finding it increasingly impossible to believe that at least one, if not multiple members of the duchess’s family are not involved. Even if the killer was Marsdale,” I choked out. “I can’t believe no one else knew. After all, the body was hid in a place that the duchess’s sons professed to know best. A place it was unlikely the corpse would ever be found until it was too late.”
His expression was also troubled. “Except Lord Edward decided to conduct that ridiculous ghost tour. With me and you in tow.”
“Yes.” I frowned. “Although I don’t think that clears him. He could have just as easily led us there because he had a guilty conscience or because he needed the body to be found.”
“To be identified as Helmswick,” Gage added, following my thoughts. “Unless his body was found, he would be classified as missing. A state which could drag on for years before the authorities agreed to declare him deceased.”
My disquiet grew the longer I contemplated this and the duke’s third son. “Traquair didn’t arrive at Sunlaws until nearly a fortnight after Helmswick is supposed to have departed.” Which seemed to rule him out, though not completely. “And Lord Henry appeared to be genuinely shocked by the discovery of the body.”
“He does impress me as being the brother whose behavior seems to display the least amount of artifice.” He tilted his head. “Though that may just mean he’s better at concealing it.”
I sighed, conceding his point.
“Lord John