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

“Yes and no.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Rookwood explained to me that this colleague is fussy, demanding, and notoriously difficult to work with. That whatever profits I expected to make would be eaten up by his demands for adjustments and reprinting, and by the end I would be cursing him for even recommending me. Once he informed me of that, I could hardly remain cross. Especially after I conferred with some of my own colleagues and verified he was telling the truth.”

It was a plausible enough explanation. And yet I wasn’t certain I believed him.

And I told Gage as much as soon as we returned to our carriage.

“It did seem like an inane reason to make such an omission,” Gage agreed. “But innocent people often do absurd things simply because they fear they might look guilty.”

“True,” I conceded, straightening the folds of my skirt. “But there was something about his demeanor. The way he was gripping the back of that chair with his hands, almost as if he might tear it in two. And his facial expression when we arrived. He was not pleased to see us.”

“Yes, but people’s words and demeanor don’t always reveal them to be a liar, do they, Kiera?” The bite in his voice and the hard glitter that entered his eyes left me in no doubt about to whom he was referring.

A bitter taste filled my mouth, momentarily leaving me speechless. The hollow space in the center of my chest—the one that had been ripped open when Gage stormed out of our bedchamber the night before, the one that seemed to rob me of my breath—yawned wider. Tears bit at the back of my eyes as he looked away, almost as if he were dismissing me.

“Sebastian, I . . .”

“No, Kiera,” he interrupted before I could squeak out more than that. “I’m not ready to discuss it yet.”

I swallowed, choking on the emotions crowding at the back of my throat and then nodded. For what else could I do? He had a right to be angry, and I couldn’t force him to talk. Not if he didn’t want to. Only that little “yet” he’d tacked on to the end gave me hope he would eventually forgive me. But there was no telling how long I would need to wait.

So I turned aside, subtly swiping at the few tears that had slid down my cheeks so he wouldn’t see them and grow angrier. It proved more difficult to sniff quietly, but I tried my best.

“I’ll drop you at home, and then I’m going to the New Club to see if I can speak with the executor of Rookwood’s will,” Gage told me a few minutes later, his voice still tight with residual feeling. “Perhaps he’ll have some insight we’ve missed. But I’ll be home in time to dress for your cousin’s dinner party.”

More than anything I wished we could skip Morven’s soirée, but then that would leave us at home, avoiding each other. Or worse, with Gage at his club while I sat alone fretting.

I offered a faint farewell as I climbed from the carriage. One which Gage emotionlessly reciprocated before the door was shut and the coach departed. I stood at the base of the stairs, watching it depart as I tried to compose myself before I faced Jeffers. A movement out of the corner of my eye made me realize I wasn’t the only one on the street. Lady Kinnear and another woman stood on the opposite corner, as if strolling to Queen Street Gardens. I raised my hand in greeting and then hurried up the steps, hoping my anguish hadn’t been as evident as I feared it was.

I considered venturing up to our bedchamber to lie down for a rest, but I knew I would never sleep. There were books that still needed to be searched in the library, but I knew I would never be able to focus on the pages. So I meandered aimlessly around the drawing room, trying to divert myself, to force my thoughts down a different path, but to no avail.

“My lady, I thought I heard you come in,” Anderley said, appearing in the doorway. He glanced around the room. “Is Mr. Gage not with you?”

“He went to the New Club to try to speak to the executor of Rookwood’s will again.”

“I see.” Anderley hesitated, and I wondered at the sudden stiltedness in his demeanor. Whether Gage had told him anything about our fight, or if he’d simply inferred as much from our conduct. After all, it would be impossible to miss the source of the tension that had been introduced into our household. Even Jeffers had been especially cordial upon my arrival, clearly unaware I was the one at fault.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Anderley finally said, but I called after him.

“Did you learn anything of interest while confirming Mr. Heron’s alibi?”

He turned back, his dark eyes scrutinizing my face before he replied, “Unfortunately, no. Though I can attest that the author he visited in Leith was, in fact, difficult to find. Took me half the morning.”

“Oh, well, I suppose we all knew it was unlikely they could tell us much.”

“I’m still trying to locate the ballad-seller.”

“Thank you.”

He bowed his head and then turned on his heel to depart, leaving me alone once again.

I soon found myself perched on the seat before our bow window, watching the world pass by outside. I considered asking Peter, our footman, to accompany me to Queen Street Gardens for a stroll in the sunshine, but my lower back was bothering me again. Though I knew Bree would fix me another hot water bottle or some other remedy for it, and offer me all her sympathy, I resisted the urge to ring for her. Somehow, I felt I deserved the discomfort, foolish as that might be. It was a penance of sorts.

So lost was I in my own morose musings that I almost failed to note the carriage pulling up to