“What can I say?” I murmured, knowing he was still waiting for a response. “Except that if you were killed . . .” I swallowed again, forcing the lump of emotion back down my throat. Even so, my voice shook. “I . . . I would prefer that you were not. That you not take such a chance again, even on my behalf.”
Gage’s eyes softened, telling me he comprehended far more than I’d said. I turned aside to stare out the window again, trying to quiet the tumult such a simple glance from him could cause inside me.
I was grateful when, rather than pressing the matter, he instead returned to the subject of the body snatching in Beckford.
“There’s a much shorter space of time between this theft and the last one. I don’t know whether that’s because they’re escalating, they’re growing reckless, or because they know we’re investigating and they’re worried they won’t have time to finish what they started.”
“Which would imply that they have a larger plan in mind,” I said. “Another aim other than extorting money out of wealthy noble families.”
“Precisely.” His fingers tapped against his thigh in impatience. “Unfortunately, most of our suspects lend themselves to that theory, so it does nothing to narrow down our list.”
“And I’ve another to add to it.”
All three occupants of the carriage turned to look at me at this pronouncement.
“Who?” Gage asked.
“Mr. Stuart.” I explained to him briefly the information I was able to gather both from the man in question and Lady Bute at the Assembly Rooms the night before. “He was extremely forthcoming, which makes me inclined to believe him innocent, but he does have motive for some of the body snatchings, slim as it might be. And he could be lying about the number and the names of the men involved. So I don’t think we can completely rule him out.”
Gage’s brow was lowered in displeasure. “Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?”
I arched my eyebrows at him in reproach, wanting to know if he really wished me to announce in front of our servants why we’d been arguing. I watched as understanding dawned in his eyes, and his mouth flexed in discomfort.
“I see. Well, I don’t suppose there’s much I could’ve done about it yesterday evening in any case. I’ll send Philip a note and ask him to look into it. With his government contacts—”
“I already have,” I interrupted. “This morning.”
Gage nodded. “Good. Well, I have a few contacts in London I can also press for information, but I’m afraid it will be too late in reaching us if we’re to stop the culprits before the ransom is paid on this fourth victim.” He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Incidentally, had Mr. Stuart just arrived in Edinburgh? I’m curious where he was the night of this latest theft.”
I shook my head. “He was at the Theatre Royal. I spoke with him after the performance.”
Gage’s head perked up. “Really? Just before you left and were abducted by Bonnie Brock?”
Anderley’s eyes widened. Clearly his employer had not shared that information with him. I knew Bree was aware of it, though we’d never discussed it. Philip’s household was like any other. The servants talked, and I was sure the coachman and footman had shared our ordeal with the others belowstairs.
Even so, I answered hesitantly, “Yes.”
“Curious,” Gage murmured, turning to stare out the window at the increasingly rural scenery as the buildings became farther and farther spaced out on the outskirts of Edinburgh.
“Why?” I asked in some confusion, and then realized what he was implying. “You think Mr. Stuart and Bonnie Brock are in league?”
“The possibility did cross my mind.” His voice was maddeningly calm.
“But then why would Brock point me in the direction of Mr. Stuart? I would never have suspected the man without his veiled comments.”
He shrugged. “Maybe he’s tired of being under the other man’s thumb.”
I considered the matter for a moment, unsettling as it was, but then decided it was very unlikely. “I don’t think Bonnie Brock is under anyone’s thumb,” I said with awed certainty.
Gage grimaced and reluctantly admitted, “I don’t either.”
I glanced over at Bree, who was watching me. I could tell she had something to say, but for whatever reason, she held her tongue.
I decided I would ask her about it later. My chance finally came when we stopped at an inn just outside Lauder for the night. Bree was helping me to undress when I broached the subject.
“Aye, m’lady,” she admitted. “But I wasna sure ye would wish me to mention it in front o’ Mr. Gage.”
I stepped out of my dress and turned to face her in my shift, shivering in the cold of the room. “What do you mean?”
“Well . . .” She rolled up my warm flannel nightgown and dropped it over my head. She nibbled her lip as I pushed my arms into the sleeves. “It’s just that . . . there’ve been men watchin’ the house. Johnny noticed ’em first,” she added, naming one of the footmen. “And he thinks they’re Bonnie Brock’s men.” She was clearly distressed at sharing this news.
“It’s all right. I already know,” I assured her.
“Ye do?” she said in surprise.