I nodded, having considered the same thing, but then another thought occurred to me. “But neither Sir Robert nor Lord and Lady Fleming mentioned any guests. Well, other than their nephews, who we now know are innocent.”
“Yes, but perhaps Mr. Stuart realized how suspicious it would look if he stayed at all the houses of the families involved, particularly on the weekends the thefts had taken place. Maybe he realized it would be better to stay in a home nearby.” He gestured to our surroundings. “Like here, in the case of Lord Buchan. No one would think twice about a known visitor to the area, someone who was staying at the manor of a respected community member, touring an abbey’s ruins, or a church and cemetery. He could claim to be studying the architecture or searching for an old friend’s grave if anyone questioned him, and no one would suspect him of any wrongdoing. Not unless they realized he’d been to all of the sites involved. And how would they know that if no one shared their suspicions about his visit?”
“But we have no proof he stayed anywhere near Musselburgh or Beckford, and we can’t exactly drive about questioning every noble and genteel household for miles around them to find out if he stayed there.”
“Actually . . .”
Gage and I turned as one to look at my uncle, who was frowning down at his desk. He adjusted the ledger book under his right elbow so that it was more square with the other items in front of him.
“Your aunt received a letter a few days ago from Lady Kerswood along with her invitation to the Burns Night Ball.”
I nodded in understanding.
“She mentioned that a mutual acquaintance of ours had been staying with her for a few days, and hoped to return in time for Burns Night.”
Knowing Lady Kerswood, I was certain that wasn’t all she’d said, or rather implied, but that was not the matter at hand. “Mr. Stuart?” I guessed.
His eyes were unhappy. “Yes.”
My stomach dropped a little, even though this was the type of information we’d been hoping for. The Kerswood manor house was located no more than three miles from Beckford. “So we can place him at or nearby three of the grave sites during or just before the body snatchings took place.”
“We’ll have to confirm with Mr. Tyler,” Gage said. “And I’ll want to send a note to Sir Robert to see if he knows of anyone who visited the area just before his father’s bones were stolen, but . . . yes. It appears we can place him near at least three.”
I turned to stare at the fireplace, its flames crackling low. From what I knew of the man, it seemed absurd to suspect him of such a thing, but looks and even manners could often be deceiving. I’d been fooled before.
“Do you know where Mr. Stuart has been staying?” Gage asked my uncle.
“I believe he either owns or rents a house near Coldingham. But from the sounds of it, he’s been doing a great deal of traveling about the region. I don’t know whether you would find him there or not.”
Perhaps not. But we might be able to find out if that was where Curst Eckie, Sore John, and the other Edinburgh body snatchers were hiding. We might find Bonnie Brock’s sister there as well.
Gage thanked my uncle and we started to rise when he stopped us. “There’s one more thing.”
We turned to him in query.
His mouth tightened and he looked away. “This may be nothing. It could be completely unrelated, but when Mr. Stuart stayed with us on Hogmanay . . . my wife mentioned that he said something about a dead wife and child.”
My heart squeezed in sympathy. “Did he say . . .”
“He said nothing else. Not when they died or how.” His mouth curled in a tight self-deprecating smile. “I asked those questions myself. But your aunt Sarah said she didn’t think it had been a recent event, though it still seemed to grieve him greatly.”
I nodded, trusting my aunt’s intuition, and wondering if those deaths were somehow the key to all of this.
? ? ?
“Do you want to travel to Coldingham to see if we can find this house where Mr. Stuart has been staying?” I asked Gage as we climbed into his carriage to return to Blakelaw House almost an hour later. My aunt had insisted we join them for tea, and while I normally welcomed her company, this time I’d been anxious to speak with Gage alone about what we’d uncovered.
He seemed to have already given the matter some thought, for he shook his head. “No. It’s a journey of twenty-five or thirty miles from Elwick, is it not?”
“Something close to that,” I estimated.
“Then it’s too far. In this weather, it would take the better part of a day to reach it, and then we’d still have the return journey to make. It’s just as likely that Mr. Stuart won’t be there as it is that he will be. And what if the ransom note should be delivered while we’re gone?” He tapped his fingers against the leg of his buff trousers in agitation. “I don’t trust these men not to give us even shorter notice than last time. They seem to have moved up their time schedule, whether because they know we’re on to them, or they’ve grown more confident.”