A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,111
of these issues, which I knew was certain to be complicated. Of his lies and betrayals and failure to tell him he had a half brother.
I wrapped my arms around his torso and turned to the side so I could rest my head against his heart. If possible, I would wrap the heart beating inside his chest with silk and surround it with armor, standing guard against any who might hurt it. But such a thing was impossible. Had I not injured it myself only a few short days ago? So all I could do was try my best to soothe it with all the love I possessed. To let him know he was not alone.
His arms embraced me in return, and a few short minutes later I felt his warm breath against my forehead. “Little dark one.”
I looked up at him in question, uncertain why he was referring to the meaning of my name.
“I know why your grandmother insisted that be your name. Because somehow she knew you would dare to plumb the darkest recesses of the human heart and shine a light there.” His pale blue eyes were two liquid pools in the moonlight. “You certainly plumbed mine.”
The love I saw reflected in his face made the tears that always seemed to be so near the surface these days threaten. So before they could fall, I arched up onto my tiptoes and kissed him.
Sometime later Gage pulled his mouth from mine, and I began to trace the line of his jaw with my lips. His voice was rough as he spoke. “As delightful as this is, perhaps we might move this to an alternative location. I think my feet are turning numb.”
I giggled. “You should have worn slippers.”
“Had I known that seeking out my wife in the middle of the night would lead me up to her glacial studio, I would have.”
“Fair enough,” I replied, reaching for one of the sailcloths to recover the portraits.
But Gage’s hand captured my wrist. “It can wait until morning.”
I nodded. A few hours’ exposure would do them no harm.
However, Gage did turn back and twitch the drapes shut just for good measure, remembering how sunlight could damage the pigments, and my heart surged with even more love for him.
Chapter 23
Unsurprisingly, I slept late the following morning and then took breakfast in bed. When I finally arose, I found that Gage had already replaced all of the covers over my portraits. I smiled as I made my way to the library to see if I could find Mugdock Castle on one of our maps. Even with Lady Bearsden’s helpful indicators in mind, it was not easy to locate, but once I did, I allowed my eyes to wander every direction of the compass for other landmarks.
One immediately leapt out at me. Lennox Castle. At approximately five miles distance, the two castles were practically part of the same estate, and perhaps at one time had been.
I frowned, wondering if Lennox the printer was also a relation. In all likelihood, not a close one, but still the coincidence could not be ignored. After all, I’d noted his upper-class elocution and carriage. It was true, it could have been learned, but I didn’t think so.
I was searching for further information on the Earl of Lennox and the offshoots of his family when the door to the library opened to admit Gage and Henry.
“Henry has news,” Gage declared without preamble. “Guess whose shop Kirkcowan was seen visiting multiple times over the past six weeks?”
I shook my head, looking to Henry, whose pride at having uncovered this information shone clearly on his face.
“Lennox and Company Printers.”
I lowered the book I’d been perusing. “And I’ve just discovered that Lennox Castle stands no more than five miles from Mugdock.”
They hurried over, peering down at the places on the map I pointed to.
“Do you think that means Lennox is Mugdock?” I asked as Gage leaned closer, searching the surrounding countryside as I had done.
“Maybe.” He glanced at Henry. “He’s certainly involved in some way. And it would explain why he has a copy of the sequel. But Kirkcowan might just as easily have been blackmailing him for another reason.” He frowned in determination, pressing his fist against the table. “We need more information before we question him, or else I’m afraid we’ll tip our hand too soon.”
I nodded in agreement. “How is he related to the Earl of Lennox, if at all? Why would he have a vendetta against Bonnie Brock?”