A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,124
other servants or his methods of investigation unless he was assisting Gage in questioning a suspect.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, rubbing it fretfully. “I dinna ken what I’m sayin’. I should be able to trust him, shouldna I? But I just dinna ken.” She began to pace a tight circle. “Whenever I see him talkin’ to another lass like that, it just makes my stomach churn and my palms sweat.”
“Other than the flirtations you’ve witnessed, has he given you any other reason to believe he’s playing you false?”
She shook her head. “Nay, I s’pose no’.” She inhaled a swift breath before blurting, “But how can I be sure? My mam believed my da could be trusted, until it was too late. I dinna want to wind up wi’ a man like that.”
This statement seemed to slice straight to the heart of the matter, for I hadn’t known Bree’s father had apparently been unfaithful to her mother.
“Bree, look at me,” I urged.
She halted her steps abruptly and turned to face me, though her body still thrummed with frantic energy.
“Be careful you’re not tarring Anderley with the same brush as your father. Not all men are scoundrels.” I knew from experience that this was no way to begin a relationship, looking for the same faults in one man as another.
“Am I doin’ that?” she asked meekly.
“Maybe,” I replied, hesitant to dismiss her concerns completely. “But Bree, it’s obvious you haven’t been happy.”
She lowered her head as if in shame.
“That doesn’t mean that anyone is to blame. But you can’t tell me that, in general, you’ve been more contented, more joyful in the past few months than you were before. In fact, at times I’ve never seen you more miserable and discomposed. Love should make your life better, not worse.”
Her expression registered the truth of this statement.
“Whether your discontent has been caused by your suspicions, or whether there are deeper issues of mistrust and incompatibility, I can’t say. But you have most definitely been out of sorts.”
She lowered her arms, considering my words. “You’re right. But what should I do?” Her brown eyes glittered with uncertainty.
“To begin with, talk to Anderley. Calmly,” I emphasized. “And be more forthcoming with him about why you feel the way you do. Then decide together. As of now, things haven’t grown so contentious between you that if you agreed to it, you couldn’t simply return to being just friends. It might be awkward at first, but I’m sure things would improve with time.”
She swallowed. “I will.”
I smiled in encouragement, hoping I was right. For if things had grown more contentious than I suspected, then matters might be more difficult not only for them but for our entire household.
* * *
• • •
The leaden skies continued the next morning—an inauspicious start to wee Jamie’s birthday. But given the excitement and terror surrounding his birth a year before, I would choose the gray weather over that any time.
As seemed to be my custom of late, I was running behind schedule. Having already donned my claret pelisse and hat, I’d just bustled into the entry hall where Gage was waiting when there was a knock at the door. Sliding my hands into my tan kid leather gloves, I glanced to Gage in question as Jeffers moved forward to answer the door. He shook his head, as bewildered as I until a familiar face appeared beyond our butler’s shoulder.
“Knighton,” Gage exclaimed as Jeffers allowed his friend into the entry. “Good to see you, old chum. But tell me you didn’t travel all the way into Edinburgh just to see me.”
“I had business in town, and when I learned you’d paid me a call yesterday, I decided I would return the courtesy.” Mr. Knighton clasped my proffered hand, bowing over it as his emerald green eyes twinkled down at me. “Mrs. Gage, you are looking as lovely as ever.” He glanced at our traveling attire. “But apparently I’ve caught you as you are leaving.”
“Yes, to a gathering for my nephew’s first birthday,” I replied.
He smiled. “Then I must not keep you.”
“But I do have a somewhat urgent question to ask you,” Gage told him. “Will you ride with us?”
“Of course. I’ll instruct my carriage to follow.”
We hurried from the town house and were soon ensconced in the comfortable confines of our carriage and setting off on the short distance to Charlotte Square.
“Now, what is this urgent question?” Mr. Knighton prompted.
Gage adjusted the angle of his hat. “Bear with me, as