A Wicked Conceit by Anna Huber (e novels to read TXT) 📕

think she’d be sittin’ here wi’ you? Nay, she’d be lyin’ in bed, bein’ dosed with whatever vile concoction the midwife thought would induce labor. I ken you’re under pressure from the superintendent to nab Kincaid, but that doesna give ye leave to be so foul to her ladyship. Noo, apologize,” she demanded as if he were a recalcitrant child.

I expected Maclean to refuse or at least grumble about it, but he did neither, giving me a fair idea of who ran Sergeant Maclean’s household. If Mrs. Duffy was this strong-willed, I imagined her sister was as well. He turned to me with a puckered brow. “I apologize.” His gaze flicked toward Gage. “Your husband’s right. ’Twas uncalled for.”

I nodded in acceptance, though I wasn’t certain I would ever look at him as so firm an ally again.

Our leave-taking was strained, not least of all because I could tell Maclean still suspected I was concealing something from him. Gage promised him we would uncover what we could about the jewel thefts, and I told him I would inform him as soon as I heard from Lady Kirkcowan, but I didn’t anticipate that the sergeant would be sharing much with us in the near future. Particularly not if the superintendent was exerting pressure on the police to see Kincaid finally hanged.

“I was under the impression that Lady Kirkcowan had retained some of her jewels,” Gage remarked offhandedly after we returned to our carriage, though his gaze remained trained on the rain-soaked streets outside the town coach’s window.

I studied his profile, wondering how much he wanted me to confess. After all, he’d previously insisted he didn’t want to know the contents of the pouch Bonnie Brock had slipped to me a year ago, though he was smart enough to guess.

“I wondered the same thing,” I replied obliquely. “And wouldn’t that have been fortuitous.”

Perhaps the last statement was a bit heavy-handed. It certainly drew his wry gaze away from the window. “I suppose we’ll have to wait to hear what she says about the matter.”

“Yes.” I adjusted the fall of my cloak, avoiding his eyes. “I only hope if she did retain some of those jewels that she wasn’t foolish enough to let Lord Kirkcowan know it.”

“Indeed,” Gage replied, and then repeated it more quietly as he turned away. “Indeed.”

•   •   •

Reclining as I was on the chaise upholstered in daffodil silk near our window overlooking Albyn Place, I heard my sister’s carriage pull up to our town house. So I was prepared moments later when she came bustling into the room, her cheeks flushed nearly the shade of her Parnassus rose gown and the curls framing her face wilted.

“Why aren’t you upstairs? Where is Dr. Fenwick?” She glanced about the room as if I might be hiding him somewhere. Perhaps behind the drapes.

“Alana, he left a quarter of an hour ago,” I replied, marking the page of the book I’d been reading with my finger.

Her eyes flared indignantly as she whirled to face the gold and marble ormolu clock perched on our fireplace mantel. “But you told me your appointment was scheduled for . . . oh.” She broke off with a deflated gasp.

“Yes, two o’clock,” I finished for her. “But it’s now a quarter to three.”

“Yes. Yes, I see that.” She sounded flustered and reached up to pat her hair. Upon finding it was damp, she hurried over to the carved foliate mirror hanging on the wall near the hearth. The better to hide her frazzled expression. “I do apologize. What did Dr. Fenwick say?”

I studied her in puzzlement. “He’s pleased with me and the baby. Says it will be a fortnight or more before I deliver. Alana, are you well? It’s not like you to be late . . .” I glanced at the clock “. . . or confused about the time.”

“I made a simple mistake,” she retorted. “Am I not allowed?”

I frowned at her defensiveness. “Of course, but . . .”

“Surely he encouraged you to rest as much as possible now until the baby arrives,” she proclaimed as she rejoined me, sinking down onto the edge of the giltwood armchair nearest me.

I smothered a pulse of annoyance. “He encouraged me to do what felt natural. To rest when I felt tired. To move about when I felt like moving. He said a bit of mild exercise was good for me and the baby, and would help the labor go more smoothly once it begins.”

Her mouth puckered in displeasure through this recitation. “But he must have meant for you to do this moving about indoors.”

“Now, how would that make any sense, Alana?” I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

She arched her chin. “It makes perfect sense to me. You simply parade from room to room. As you’ll recall, that’s the sole exercise we received two years ago when the winter weather was so harsh at Gairloch.”

“Yes, but that was Gairloch! It takes an hour to traverse all the corridors in that monstrosity of a castle.” I exaggerated only slightly. Philip’s Highland estate along Loch Ewe was in no way small, having once housed a large portion of the Matheson clan, being added to in fits and starts down through the centuries.

I clamped my mouth shut and closed my eyes, hating that Alana had riled me when I’d just told myself I was not going to allow her to do so. Exhaling a deep breath, I spoke in a calmer voice. “Why am I arguing this with you? I’m following Dr. Fenwick’s instructions. Instructions that seem perfectly sensible to me. And that is that.”

“I’m only thinking of what’s best for you,” she bit out, her shoulders rigid and her lips beginning to quiver.

Softening toward her, I offered her my hand, hoping she would take it. “I know you’re concerned for me and the baby. How could you not be after everything you endured giving birth to Greer and Jamie?”

She sniffed, lifting her hand to clasp mine.

“Nothing is certain. It never is with childbirth.” I squeezed her hand. “But I’m