A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,121

Confronted me.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “Told me she hated me. But after I told her why I’d done it, she said she understood.” He shook his head. “I dinna ken how she was able to—”

“The day Rookwood died,” I interrupted before he could dither on, taking us on another melodramatic tangent. “When you couldn’t account for all of the time you spent on errands. That’s because you met with Maggie that day, isn’t it?”

He flushed. “Aye.”

“And the sequel? Was that a surprise?”

“Aye, it was. When Rookwood showed it to me, I was gobsmacked. And furious. But o’ course I couldna tell him why. It’s filled wi’ nothin’ but lies. I told Rookwood no’ to publish it, and he told me he’d already decided no’ to.” His brow lowered thunderously. “But Lennox wouldna take no for an answer. Threatened him even.” He pounded his fist down onto his open palm like a gavel. “So I decided to threaten him in return. That’s why I really went to see him on the afternoon Mr. Rookwood was killed.” His shoulders deflated. “But he wasna there.”

My head reared back and I turned to Gage.

“Did you say he wasn’t there?” he repeated.

“Aye,” Heron replied. “His foreman didna ken when he’d return, so I left.”

Lennox had misled us. He’d told us that Mr. Heron had stopped by to deliver a pamphlet for Mr. Rookwood, but he hadn’t actually said he’d seen him. He’d been deliberately vague. Which made me wonder if there was anything else he’d misled us about.

Chapter 25

That confirms it, then,” I declared when we returned to our carriage. “Lennox is Mugdock.”

Gage slumped deeper into the squabs, the folds of his many-caped greatcoat draping around him. “It was the perfect arrangement, really. Lennox could have published the book himself, without Rookwood’s assistance. The subject matter alone would have sold it. But he needed the concealment that the name of Thomas W. Rookwood Publishing provided, so that all the questions and pressure and suspicions would be directed toward Rookwood instead of him, the lowly printer.”

“He could come and go, visiting with Rookwood in his guise as printer without any suspicions attached to it, and without the fear of their correspondence being intercepted or their meetings being discovered.”

“Which also explains why he agreed to change our names at Rookwood’s insistence,” he mused, rubbing his index finger over his bottom lip as he pondered. “If he took the book to another publisher, he would sacrifice the concealment and convenience Rookwood provided.”

“Plus the fact that Mr. Heron knew,” I pointed out. “Perhaps Lennox saw funneling the publication through Rookwood, and thus bolstering Heron’s income, as extra incentive for him to remain quiet.” I shifted in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Though I still don’t understand why Lennox holds such a vendetta against Bonnie Brock. Or us, for that matter.”

“Maybe there is no vendetta. Maybe Lennox simply saw an opportunity to make a great deal of money.”

I considered Gage’s suggestion. “It doesn’t feel impersonal.”

He sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”

“And what of Lord Kirkcowan? Why was Lennox being blackmailed by him, as we speculate?”

“I think Kirkcowan knew he was Mugdock. Though I’m not certain how.” He frowned. “Or if that was truly what got him killed.”

I pivoted to face him more fully. “Right, then. Here’s a more vital question. We now have confirmation Lennox is Mugdock, but is he a murderer?”

“Well, he had the ability and the opportunity. Heron told us he wasn’t in his shop when he called, and as Rookwood’s printer he probably would have been aware of the rear entrance off Carrubbers Close. Rookwood knew him, possibly well enough not only to allow him into his office but also to turn his back to him.”

“But why? Simply because he refused to print his sequel?” I asked doubtfully.

“I suppose it’s possible that was his sole motivation, but you’re right. It does seem rather weak.”

I changed positions again, in hopes that sitting upright would ease some of the strain on my back. “I still think we’re missing something. What about everything Mr. Heron told us about Lennox claiming Bonnie Brock might be owed an inheritance? Do you think there might be any truth to it, or was it purely a ploy to convince Heron to talk?”

“That I don’t know, but I strongly suspect the latter. Not only because it proved to be a persuasive ruse to convince Heron—who seemingly isn’t prone to tale-telling—to talk, but also because Kincaid was born out of