A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,129

he was pretty emphatic about his actions bein’ a betrayal, but I thought he just meant to the city, or law and order.”

Gage had pulled aside his greatcoat, planting his hands on his hips as he contemplated this new information. “Did you truly not hear any part of their argument the day before Rookwood was murdered?”

Heron shook his head. “But they were both furious. When Lennox stormed out, I thought he was gonna smash something.”

“Do you think Rookwood would have threatened to expose him if he tried to publish it elsewhere or simply printed it himself?”

“I dinna ken.”

“Of course,” I gasped. “Lennox must have realized he didn’t need the shield of Rookwood’s name anymore. He could print the book himself, with everyone remaining ignorant of the fact that he was Mugdock.”

“And so he resolved to get rid of the threat, throw some more suspicion at Kincaid, and create a diversion, if you will, from his publication of the sequel,” Gage surmised.

“Which he’s already doin’.”

We both turned to Heron in some alarm. “How do you know that?” Gage demanded.

His shoulders hunched and he swallowed nervously. “Because he came to see me.”

My heart leapt in my chest.

“When?” Gage barked.

“Yesterday. After ye left. He . . . he wanted to ken what I’d told ye.”

We must have been followed. By McQueen’s men, I wagered. After all, one of them had followed us home from Lennox’s shop. It only made sense that they had also trailed us to Heron’s.

“And did you tell him?”

Heron shook his head emphatically until Gage loomed closer. Then he squeaked out the truth. “Only that ye were suspicious he was Mugdock because o’ his possessin’ the sequel. None o’ the rest aboot Maggie and such.”

Gage moved toward the window, peering out through the curtains at the lane backed by the steep slope of the hillside. “You do know he’s probably having you watched.”

No wonder he’d been so anxious when we first arrived.

He swallowed again. “Aye.”

“And you’re just now telling us this?”

He was smart enough not to respond to this query.

“Is there another way out of your building?” Gage asked.

He nodded.

“Then I suggest you pack a bag after we leave and use it. Stay elsewhere until this matter is resolved.” He peered out the window again before rejoining us. “With any luck, that will be in but a matter of hours. Especially if Lennox is already printing the sequel.”

Heron’s face had visibly paled, and he seemed unable to speak. I only hoped he heeded Gage’s advice.

“We have enough to take to Maclean,” my husband told me. “Enough to get the printing of that sequel stopped at the outset.”

I agreed, taking his proffered arm as we moved toward the door. Once in the corridor outside, we had taken but two steps toward the stairs, when suddenly an arm grabbed me from behind. It hauled me backward as I cried out in protest. But it was too late. Less than a second later, Gage crumpled to the ground.

Chapter 27

Terror shot through me and I shrieked. “Let me go! Get your hands off me. Gage!”

But he didn’t move or respond, not even with a groan. Blood began to mat the back of his blond hair, his hat having been knocked off. At first I feared they’d shot him in the head, and a bolt of sickening panic nearly paralyzed me. But then I saw the crude cudgel one of the other men was brandishing. By his hulking size, his brown coat, and the smallpox scars Bonnie Brock had described, I knew him to be the man who had followed us from Lennox’s several days ago. McQueen’s man.

I kicked out, struggling against the man who had my arms pinned behind my back, but in my expectant condition I was awkward and clumsy at best. My Hewson percussion pistol was nestled inside my reticule still attached to my wrist, but I couldn’t reach it with my hands restrained. The door across the corridor cracked open, and the woman who had spied on us the day before peered out. I screamed at her to help, but she merely slammed the door.

“Shut your gob,” the man behind me ordered. “Or I’ll throw ye doon these stairs, and we’ll see how much ye like that.”

Knowing that such an act would likely kill me and the child in my womb, I bit my lip. My eyes darted around us, trying to find some way out of this situation. But without anyone’s help, there was little I could do but obey