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

he hadn’t reported their recovery and had instead insured them the second time with a different company. But then how had he proven they were genuine when he acquired the policy?

I rubbed my temple, certain I was missing something. But my attention was soon diverted by the opening of the library door a second time. Gage strolled inside with the hair at his temples damp and his demeanor serious. When another man appeared in the doorway behind him, I feared I knew why.

My heart clutched in dread at the sight of Lord Henry, whose gaze immediately locked with mine. But I couldn’t tell from his reserved expression whether he’d told Gage anything yet.

Sensing that the discussion that would follow might not be meant for her ears, Bree rose from her seat and curtsied as she beat a hasty retreat. Part of me wanted to order her to stay, if only to prolong the inevitable, for neither gentleman would speak openly about such a topic with a servant present.

“Good evening, darling. You know Lord Henry Kerr,” Gage began, gesturing to the man behind him. “I believe you spoke to him briefly yesterday evening at Miss Drummond’s debut.”

“Yes,” I replied, struggling to swallow to moisten my throat, which had grown desperately dry. I offered Henry my hand, feeling as if I were taking part in some cruel charade.

“Though he has refused to share his brother’s whereabouts, we’ve come to an understanding,” Gage relayed, never removing his firm stare from Henry’s face.

I blinked rapidly, my head whirling in confusion before I grasped that he was speaking of Lord John, and the fact that Henry had just returned from escorting him abroad to escape any consequences from his murderous actions at Sunlaws Castle.

“And he is in possession of some information that may be helpful to us.”

“Is he?” I replied, feeling ridiculous for uttering such an inane retort.

Fully expecting this information to be the disclosure of his relation to Gage, I felt my stomach flip over in anticipation of his next words. But instead, Gage leaned against his desk and continued to speak.

“I stumbled upon Lord Kirkcowan again tonight, betting as high stakes as ever in the card room at the club.”

I was sure I stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Why was he talking about Kirkcowan? I looked down at the letter I still held in my hands, wondering if I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. Or worse, perhaps I was hallucinating.

“What?” Gage replied, having noticed my odd demeanor. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” I licked my lips, my gaze cutting to Henry, who now perched at the edge of the chair opposite mine. “Please continue.”

He scrutinized my features as I tried to appear unperturbed and then resumed his explanation. “Once again I found myself wondering how Kirkcowan is able to continue financing such a habit, particularly when he loses far more often than he wins.” He nodded at our guest. “That’s when Lord Henry approached me, and after our rapprochement, we found ourselves conversing about the baron.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Yes, a friend of mine told me that he had been privy to a private wager Lord Kirkcowan had made in the betting book at the club and, being aware of my acquaintance with you, wanted to know if it was true.”

I had been on the verge of rolling my eyes at the stupidity and foibles of man. Kirkcowan had gotten himself into trouble numerous times before for his ridiculous and insulting bets in the books at gentlemen’s clubs in both London and Edinburgh. The existence of such books was maddening, in and of itself, as they were filled with both degrading and asinine wagers that often reduced women to little more than chattel or broodmares. However, his mention of our connection to it made my ears perk up.

“What was his wager?”

His watchful eyes never moved from my face. “That a sequel to The King of Grassmarket would be published before Midsummer’s Eve.”

Chapter 16

My head reared back and then I turned to my husband, whose eyes gleamed with satisfaction at my reaction. “Doesn’t that show prior knowledge?”

“My thoughts exactly,” he replied. “How is he even aware of such a publication being a possibility, let alone confident enough to place a sizable wager on its occurring?”

“Are you suggesting Kirkcowan is Mugdock?” I asked, suddenly doubtful.

Gage scoffed. “No, I don’t think he’s capable. But clearly he knows something about him.”

My gaze dipped to the missive in my lap. “Lady Kirkcowan replied to my letter.”

He straightened. “Did she?”

I looked at Henry, wondering if I should be speaking openly in front of him. “She says she never told Kirkcowan what truly happened to the jewels, despite his threatening her, and they are still safely secured. So the necklace people reportedly witnessed Lady Kirkcowan wearing last autumn must have been the paste version of her diamond and sapphire necklace. And as I’ve mentioned before, I recall it being a very good likeness.”

“That also means that any claims Lord Kirkcowan made about any of those pieces being recovered and then restolen are an outright lie,” Gage surmised as he ran his index finger over his lips in thought.

“Yes, but the question is why? For the insurance money? Would he actually have been able to insure them again, unexamined, simply based on his title alone?”

“I highly doubt it,” Henry said, drawing our attention. “Most insurance companies are highly suspicious. It’s their profits at risk, after all, if fraud is perpetuated. Especially on something as expensive and portable as jewelry.”

“Henry’s right,” Gage agreed. “But I do have a thought.” He crossed toward the door and stepped out into the hall. “Jeffers, would you come here for a moment?”

Our butler soon followed him back into the room. “Yes, sir?”

“Were you able to speak with anyone on Sir Phineas Riddell’s staff yet?”

Jeffers’s gaze cut briefly to Lord Henry before he spoke. “Yes, sir.