Chapter 15

Both Lord Gage and I blinked at Tamsyn in shock.

"Are you saying…?" Lord Gage began, but he seemed unable to finish the statement.

Tamsyn's mouth pursed as she seemed to give careful consideration to her next words. "I believe I saw 'im. This morn, out near the cliffs at Doyden Point." She turned to peer in that direction. "?'Twas from a distance, so I can't be certain, but…" She broke off, searching Lord Gage's face. "I think ye know I wouldn't 'ave brought the matter to ye if I wasn't confident that was in truth Branok Roscarrock I saw. Alive and well."

His face flushed with anger and outrage, and his hands clenched into fists at his side as he turned to pace away. "If he is alive. If Branok is playing us for a fool…Why, I'll kill him myself!"

"But why? Why would he do such a thing?" I protested, not ready to believe it all so quickly. Yes, the lack of a vigil and the odd funeral arrangements raised some doubts, but they could just as easily be explained. And while only four men had seen Branok's corpse, and they were all related to the man, would they truly all lie about it?

"It's Branok," Lord Gage snapped. "He wouldn't need a reason to do such a thing beyond the desire to cause mischief and get a bit of revenge before he does pass on." He narrowed his eyes. "He's probably been planning this for some time."

"Then Amelia must also be part of it," I pointed out. "After all, she sent the letter asking us to come." It was my turn to pause and consider. "Unless she doesn't know, and her sending for us was an unforeseen complication."

Despite his angry remarks, he seemed to be struggling with what to make of this as much as I was. After all, we only had the word of Tamsyn that Branok was alive, and she'd only seen him from a distance.

"How far away was he?" I asked her.

"About one hundred and fifty yards."

Too far then to see his face. "What made you so certain it was him?"

Lord Gage frowned at me, but Tamsyn seemed to expect my questions. "Because of the way he moved. And the shifty way he kept glancin' about. 'Twas clear he didn't wish to be seen."

But there were any number of reasons a person might move about furtively, and they had nothing to do with having feigned their own death.

My skepticism must have been evident, for she nodded. "I know it's 'ard to believe. But aren't there people ye know well enough that you'd recognize them at such a distance?"

I had to concede she was right. Gage, for instance. I felt I would know him anywhere. And my brother and sister, and even my brother-in-law. But these were the closest people to me in the world. Had Tamsyn honestly known Branok that well? And if she had, what did that say about their relationship?

"You'll 'ave to decide for yourself. I simply thought I should warn ye of what I'd seen. Because if Branok is alive…"

She didn't finish the statement. She didn't need to. The implications made me flush hot and then cold. For nothing good could come from such a deception. Nothing good at all.

"Thank you," I replied.

She nodded and glanced over her shoulder toward the darkening sky in the west. "Now, I'm sure ye have your daughter to tend to, and we all need to be gettin' out of this rain."

"Allow me to escort you home," Lord Gage offered. "Kiera knows the way back to the manor."

Tamsyn touched his arm lightly. "No need for that. Ye know 'tisn't far." She strode off before he could object further. "But think on what I've said," she called back to us.

While Lord Gage remounted, I watched her go, her brown aventurine skirts swishing back and forth as she hurried down the lane. For the life of me, I couldn't decide whether she'd truly seen Branok. Clearly, she believed she had, for I could see no purpose in her lying about such a thing. Not when the truth was bound to be revealed sooner or later. Though it muddied the waters in the meantime, and distracted us—at least temporarily—from the facts of the matter. Could that be motive enough?

I frowned, unhappy with this development. And at the cold drop of rain that landed on my cheek as I peered up at the sky.

"We'd best hurry," Lord Gage said as the rain began to fall in earnest. We urged our horses into a canter.

At the manor, we dismounted swiftly, allowing the grooms to see to our steeds, and hurried through the outer courtyard into the inner one. I hadn't approached the house from this direction before, and while the rain hampered my view, I could see that the courtyard was shaped more or less like a rectangle with a small projection toward the stable corner. A number of tables and benches sat beneath a shallow, sloped roof, while much of the rest of the space was interspersed with crates and pots filled with seasonal flowers. During the chill of late autumn through early spring, I imagined it was a welcome spot to sit sheltered from the blustery winds on a sunny day. Two sets of stairs led up to the upper story from the courtyard. The first seemed to connect with a small tower adjoining the servants' quarters, while the second aimed toward the bedchambers along the northern block.

"That will take you to Emma fastest," Lord Gage directed me. "Turn right down the long corridor after you enter, and it'll guide you straight to your bedchamber door."

"But what of you?" I countered, realizing he didn't intend to follow.

His expression was grim and determined. "I'm going to have a word with my cousins."

I halted him with a hand to his arm. "Is that wise? Perhaps you should wait for your son."

He scowled fiercely. "I'll thank you to remember this is my mother's family, Kiera. I'm not the one who came stumbling in here blindly. I know what they're capable of. I'll not be made a fool of any longer."

He shook off my grip and charged into the house. I hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether to follow him, but it was past time to feed Emma and my responsibility to her must come first. If my father-in-law wanted to rage at someone and set the entire household at sixes and sevens without more proof than what Tamsyn had told us, I couldn't stop him.

Lifting my skirts, I padded up the stairs, mindful of any slickness because of the rain, and entered the door at the top on the left. A few steps took me to a junction with another door to my left, a door a short distance straight ahead, and a long corridor to my right, just as Lord Gage had described. This must have been the route I'd seen Mrs. Mackay take two days prior when she was returning to mind Emma.

I heard faint voices through a door in the middle of the corridor on the left, one of which sounded like Dolly, while a series of playful shrieks emerged from the chamber on the right, indicating the nursery. Otherwise, the corridor was silent and dark. I paused long enough at my bedchamber to remove my jaunty hat and gloves before rapping on the door of Emma's nursery and entering.

Mrs. Mackay was jouncing Emma up and down near the window as she gnawed on one of her ragdolls. "There she is," she told her. "I told ye your mam was on her way."

I smiled at Emma, already unbuttoning the coat of my riding habit as I moved to take her from her nanny. "How is my sweet girl this morning?"

Emma grinned back, revealing her first tooth, and reached for me, allowing her ragdoll to tumble from her grasp.

"Happy as a lark," Mrs. Mackay replied as I rubbed my face against Emma's downy blond curls and kissed her brow. "We went oot to see the flowers while the sun was still shinin'."

"Did you?" I cooed. "I'm sure you liked that," I told Emma.

Sinking into the rocking chair, I settled Emma so that she could begin nursing and draped a blanket over my shoulder in hopes she would become less distracted when I turned to address Mrs. Mackay. "Any developments here?"

She paused in her bustling about the room, tidying what little mess there was, and brushed a few stray silver hairs back from her forehead. "None. Other than some keen interest in where Mr. Gage rode off to this morn." Her eyebrows arched in emphasis.

"Who was interested in that?"

"A number o' the servants, though Miss McEvoy believes some o' 'em were askin' for their employers."

I nodded, for I trusted Bree's discernment. In general, she was a good judge of people and often formed connections for me between the upstairs and downstairs before I realized it.

"There was also a bit o' a stramash between Mr. Killigrew and Mr. Roscarrock."

I looked up in surprise. "Bevil and Mery?" I asked, seeking clarification.

She nodded.

Emma grunted in disapproval, and I lowered my voice. "Did they come to blows?"

"Nearly."

I remembered seeing Mery slip out of the entrance to the servants' wing earlier that morning. "When was this? What was said?"

"Several hours ago. Before Mr. Gage left. We were in the garden, and he came to say good-bye to the bairn."

I suspected he'd also been issuing instructions to Mrs. Mackay for both Emma's and my safety while he was away, but I did not question her about them.

"From what I could gather, Mr. Roscarrock had threatened Mr. Killigrew in some way, and Mr. Killigrew challenged him in return."

"Did you hear what the threat was?"

Mrs. Mackay shook her head. "Nay. But Miss McEvoy might ken more."

"Are Mr. Roscarrock or Mr. Killigrew or his son here now?" I wondered who, if anyone, my father-in-law might have found to confront.

"Last I ken, all the Killigrews were in residence, though Mr. Roscarrock stomped off a fair bit ago."

He'd likely gone off to his cottage, which we'd yet to visit. I glanced toward the window where rain was now streaming down the glass panes. And apparently I wouldn't be visiting this day either. I peered down at Emma, resting contently in my arms. Nor would I be taking her on any excursions. Our trip to the cove would have to wait for more auspicious weather.

When Emma fell asleep, I laid her in her cradle and returned to my bedchamber to ring for Bree. There was no sound of raised voices or slamming doors, so presumably Lord Gage had found no one to vent his fury toward or his tirade had already ended. I held a brief flicker of hope that perhaps good sense had prevailed, and he'd decided to wait to confront his relatives about Tamsyn's claims until he was in a calmer frame of mind, and we possessed more information, but Bree quickly dampened that spark.

"Did one o' the Grenvilles truly tell you they'd seen Branok Roscarrock alive and well?" she demanded to know the moment she closed the door.

I sighed, sinking down on the edge of the bed. "Who did his lordship challenge?"

"Bevil."

I crossed my arms over my chest. Of course, it would be the cousin with whom matters were already so contentious.

"But many o' the others were there as well."

"Mery, too?"

Bree urged me to my feet, stripping my coat from my shoulders. "Nay. He departed after his row wi' Bevil earlier."

"Mrs. Mackay told me about that. Did you hear the threat Mery made?"

"Nay. 'Twas all verra vague." She brushed at the dampness still clinging to the woolen fabric before draping it over the bench. "Clearly they didna want anyone else to guess what they were talkin' aboot, but what else could it be but a threat to Bevil's position workin' for him?" Bree had begun to unbutton my skirt and then straightened with a gasp. "Unless it's to do wi' keepin' the secret that Branok's still alive."

I grasped the bedpost to steady myself. "I suppose that's a possibility, though we've no proof that what Tamsyn said was true. The man she saw was almost one hundred and fifty yards away, and she never saw his face."

This seemed to dampen Bree's enthusiasm. "Weel, his lordship evidently believes her."

"Yes, because he wants to," I pointed out. "He wants to believe the worst of his mother's family."

Bree considered this as she finished removing my garments. "Aye," she finally concurred. "So he's no' the most impartial investigator."

"That's putting it mildly," I agreed, sitting down to remove my half-boots while Bree pulled my dress of white challis printed with small bouquets and boasting epaulettes on the sleeves from the wardrobe. My shoulders slumped as I thought of how contemptuous and scornful Lord Gage could be. "I suppose he accused them of all sorts of terrible things."

Bree's stricken expression was answer enough.

I wondered if they would even wish for us to continue investigating. Not that such disapproval had ever stopped us before. Once set on the course of an inquiry, we felt it our duty to see it through, whether the initial complainants wanted us to uncover the truth or not. Though they could evict us from Roscarrock House, leaving us to seek shelter elsewhere. I doubted Lord Gage had given that possibility any thought. Or perhaps, believing Branok alive, he was ready to depart.

Of course this had to happen on the day Gage rode south to uncover more information about smuggling and wouldn't return until nightfall. That is, if the rain didn't hinder him.

"Where did Mery sleep last night? Do you know?" I asked as my thoughts returned to Mery and Bevil's argument.

Bree held out a pair of stays. "The master chamber."

Which, I supposed, by all rights was now his even if he'd not claimed it yet. So his skulking out of the servants' quarters had nothing to do with the previous evenings' sleeping arrangements. Unless…

"Was he alone?"

Bree's silence was telling, and I turned so that I could see her face, forcing her to release the ribbons of my stays which she'd been adjusting. She seemed torn. "I dinna ken. No' for certain. But…Cora wasna in her bed when I retired last night. And…" She struggled to continue meeting my gaze. "And she wasna in it when I woke either."

"I see," I replied, understanding her conundrum. Cora was Dolly's maid, and I had sensed how much Bree liked her. "Perhaps you simply slept soundly. Did her bed appear to have been disturbed?"

"Maybe?" she answered honestly. "?'Twas made, o' course. But it didna appear exactly the same. And I was verra tired by the time I laid my head doon last night."

It had been extremely late, I recalled. But she'd also been angry and out of sorts over whatever had occurred between her and Anderley.

"You didn't drift off to sleep right away, did you?" I searched her freckled features. "Your mind was busy."

She nodded reluctantly, and more than anything I wanted to pry again, to ask her to confide in me. But I knew better. If she wished to explain, she would. I had to respect her privacy.

However, that didn't stop me from expressing my concern. "Are things better this morning?"

She bent over to pick up my boots, answering obliquely. "By degrees."

I watched as she set the boots by the door and then allowed myself to be turned around again so that she could resume dressing me. It was obvious that whatever had happened to upset Bree had not been fixed. Not genuinely. And that made me wonder about Anderley.

Presumably Gage had spoken to him today and he was somewhere about, ready to assist, if necessary, but I'd not seen him. Not since his shocking behavior the evening prior. I wanted to ask Bree if she knew where he was, but decided against it, forcing my mind back to Cora.

"So Cora may or may not have slept in her bed. Which means she might have slept with Mery, though we have no proof of that. She could just as easily have slept somewhere else."

Bree tugged more sharply on my garments than necessary, making me hesitate over this remark. Did Bree think Cora had slept with Anderley? I suppose he did have a room to himself now that Lembus had been directed to sleep in Lord Gage's dressing room, but I struggled to believe Anderley would be capable of such a thing. Though, to be fair, I'd also never expected to witness Anderley behaving so insolently toward us as he did the previous evening.

This caused a sharp conflict within me, one that I felt in the pit of my stomach. I didn't like doubting Anderley this way. I'd grown fond of him since my marriage to Gage, and I'd come to rely on him and all the members of our staff who had joined us in our investigative endeavors. Some months ago in Scotland, Anderley and I had formed a bond over art, as well as our mutual affection for Gage—whose life Anderley had saved more than once—and Bree. I knew Anderley loved her. I'd seen it in his eyes, in his words, in the way he'd fallen to pieces when she'd almost died.

But I could also see that he was growing impatient with her insistence that they take matters slowly. His relationship with Gage had also been strained by Gage's half brother Henry's recent involvement with our inquiries, taking the role Anderley had so often occupied. Now that Henry was no longer with us, it didn't mean those feelings of displacement had disappeared. Perhaps Anderley was harboring more anger and resentment than we realized. Gage had assured me just last night that there was no cause for concern about his valet. I wished I could believe him.

Resolving to push the matter from my mind for the moment, I returned to the issue of Cora. "Didn't you tell me she warned you about Mery?" I asked Bree.

"Aye. Said he was a scoundrel wi' any number o' sideslips dandlin' on their mam's knees. But…" She paused, as if not liking what she had to say next. "It could be a matter o' her protestin' too much."

I realized she was referring to the line in Shakespeare's Hamlet. "Can you talk to her? Ferret out what you can?" I hated to ask it of her, especially after her reaction earlier had raised the specter of Anderley's possible involvement. But there was no one else to whom I could give the task. Cora would grow suspicious if I began asking questions, and Mrs. Mackay was busy with Emma much of the time. We'd already established why I couldn't ask Anderley, the natural second choice, which left Bree.

"Aye," she answered quietly. "I'll do my best."

"I know," I assured her. "You always do."

But rather than be cheered by this compliment, she merely seemed more dejected. I couldn't say that I blamed her.