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

lengthy. As I expected, the solicitor wouldn’t share Rookwood’s will with me, though he did confirm that Rookwood has a sister living in Aberdeen.”

“Then it’s likely she’ll inherit.”

“Perhaps. I suppose we’ll know soon enough. The will is being read in a week’s time.” He looked up at me hopefully. “Did you learn anything helpful from Cromarty and your sister?”

“No, but Philip said he would find out what he could.”

“Then we’re left with little to go on.”

“Not unless Anderley’s day has been more fruitful.” I had been able to tell from Bree’s expression while she prepared my bath that hers had been unsatisfying.

Less than an hour later, we were able to find out. The fire in the drawing room had been built up to a blaze, warming the chill room as rain continued to pelt the windows. At times, the sharp strikes of precipitation sounded more like ice or sleet than rain, and I could only be glad we had no obligations for the evening.

“Although it wasn’t the most auspicious weather, I was able to speak with a few witnesses from the market, including the owner of that oyster cart you mentioned,” Anderley said, rifling his still-damp hair. “Sadly, he claimed he’d been too busy to notice who came and went from any of the shops across the street yesterday. And I must admit, if he was doing as brisk a trade as he was today, then I believe him. As for the ballad-seller, he wasn’t there. But that’s not entirely unexpected.”

“No,” I agreed. “His sheet music would have been ruined in this weather.”

“I’ll try to speak with him tomorrow, or find out where he’s gone.”

Gage nodded and then turned to Bree. “What of you, Miss McEvoy?”

“I spoke to Mr. Rookwood’s staff. There was only four o’ ’em, and three o’ ’em were happy to help. Though they didna ken much o’ note. But they seemed to have genuinely liked their employer.” Her mouth twisted. “But the fourth servant, the maid, she wasna as chatty.”

“Do you think she had a reason to not want to speak with you, or was she just mistrustful of strangers?” I asked.

Bree surreptitiously kneaded her left thigh through her gown, reminding me that it often ached in damp weather. “I’m no’ sure, but she definitely set her back up against me once I started askin’ questions. Before that she was friendly enough. And ye were right. She did clean his office, as well. Got that much oot o’ her before she became skittish.”

“I could try to talk to her, if you like,” Anderley offered, his gaze dipping to her hand where it rubbed her leg.

She ceased abruptly, clasping her hands in her lap as a furrow formed between her eyes. “Nay, I’ll try again tomorrow.” She forced a smile. “I think I ken noo how I can convince her to trust me.”

Whether or not it was obvious to the men, I could tell why Bree didn’t want Anderley’s help. She’d often teased Anderley and groused about his method for convincing females to confide in him, which was tantamount to flirtation, and I could tell by the stiff line of her shoulders that that was exactly what she was envisioning happening. Fortunately, he didn’t pursue the matter, instead seeming to become momentarily distracted as Bree reached up to adjust her hairpins for perhaps the fourth time since she’d entered the room. Her normally well-tamed strawberry blond curls had frizzed in the dampness and were threatening to come tumbling down around her shoulders. Apparently, Gage wasn’t the only male intrigued by a woman’s hair, and the intimacy implied by seeing it down.

“Anderley, I’ve another task for you anyway,” Gage told him, reclaiming his attention. He extracted a piece of paper from his pocket and passed it to him. “I need you to speak to the proprietors of these shops to see if Mr. Heron visited them yesterday, and how long he stayed. Then I need you to track down the author listed. He lives in Leith and is purportedly not the easiest individual to find.”

His valet scanned the list before slipping it into the inner pocket of his bottle blue coat.

“Though I’m still not sure all of these stops will account for the full amount of time Heron was absent from the office.” Gage lifted his teacup, cradling it before him. “Not to mention the fact that the locations of a number of his errands were in and around North Bridge Street near to Rookwood Publishing. He might have easily slipped in through the rear entrance, murdered his employer, and left again, with no one the wiser.”

“That’s true, but I don’t think he’s our culprit,” I replied, contemplating his nervous behavior that morning. “He definitely knows something he hasn’t yet divulged to us, but I don’t think it’s that he’s the murderer.”

“Perhaps he kens Mugdock’s identity,” Bree suggested.

“Maybe,” I conceded, having already wondered the same thing.

Gage tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Rookwood’s solicitor proved uncooperative, but he did let slip the name of the executor of Rookwood’s will. And I’ve a mind to track him down this evening at the club.” He turned to Anderley. “So you’ll need to set out my evening kit.”

“Yes, sir.”

Given the fact that the only club Gage was a member of here in Edinburgh was the New Club on St. Andrew’s Square, and they didn’t allow ladies entrance, I knew better than to ask if I could join him. Regardless, I had little desire to stir from the house in such weather, especially not to enter such a bastion of gentlemen smoking cigars and drinking brandy while they played cards and billiards. It was no wonder Gage hadn’t yet chosen to bathe away the stench of ink. Not when he would be wading through a cloud of smoke this evening.

For a moment I thought of protesting his absence. Upon my return from my chat in the garden with Bonnie Brock, Jeffers had informed me that Lord Henry Kerr had