“Who is still in Edinburgh, I hear.”
I was startled by his knowledge of that detail, but did my best not to show it. “As far as I’m aware.”
“Would you write to him? Ask him to come to my aid?”
When I didn’t answer immediately, Buchan begged. “I don’t know what else to do. And I can’t simply allow these men to get away with stealing my uncle’s bones and shooting my caretaker.”
I understood his predicament. None of the surrounding villages had any sort of organized police force, and though my uncle, the local magistrate, would try, he had very little experience with this sort of thing. Lord Buchan’s best option was to hire a private inquiry agent, and he would find no gentleman better than Sebastian Gage.
But still I hesitated to reply, knowing I stood at the brink of a decision I should have seen coming. If I wrote to Gage, even on Lord Buchan’s behalf, and asked him for his assistance, I knew he would also see it as my asking him here for myself. To him there would be no difference, no matter how carefully I worded the request.
I had no doubt he would come. He had promised as much the last time we parted. All I need do was ask, he’d said, and he would come to me. Such a small thing, and yet so immense. And I didn’t know if I was ready for it.
My feelings were still confused when it came to Gage, and I wasn’t certain I was prepared to face them yet. It was true I had needed time and space to heal from the loss of my friend Will, but I also had needed that same time and space to sort through my emotions when it came to Gage. And though in some ways I had done just that, in others I hadn’t. I still felt Will’s loss so keenly. I didn’t know if seeing Gage would make things better or worse, whether his presence would give me comfort and clarity, or cause me more heartache and frustration.
Trevor’s feet shifted in the loose earth beside me, recalling me to the present. I felt the sting of a blush in my cheeks that had nothing to do with the wind. How long had Lord Buchan been waiting for my answer? It had likely been only a matter of seconds, but gauging by the taut silence, that had been long enough to become awkward.
I offered the earl a smile of apology. “Of course. I’ll write to him as soon as we return to Clintmains.”
Lord Buchan’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you.”
I nodded and turned away to strip off the bloodstained gloves, doing my best to conceal the fact that my hands were shaking.
CHAPTER FOUR
When Uncle Andrew, Trevor, and I returned to Clintmains Hall in Buchan’s carriage, we were surprised to see that many of the guests had already departed, though perhaps we shouldn’t have been. Normally the Rutherford Hogmanay Ball lasted long into the night, almost until dawn, but not this year. It seemed Willie’s disruption of the first-footer ceremony had dampened the festive spirit.
Most of those guests who remained were staying the night at Clintmains, but even many of them had retired. Aunt Sarah waited for our return in the ballroom with a few stragglers and two pickled men who had yet to be carried up to their assigned chambers. When Trevor asked if, under the circumstances, we might spend the night at Clintmains instead of making the fifteen-mile journey back to Blakelaw House, she readily agreed. She already had rooms made up for us and our servants were bedded down with some of her household staff.
I excused myself to Uncle Andrew’s study and sat down to write my letter to Gage on Lord Buchan’s behalf. With my uncle hovering over me, I didn’t have time to agonize over my choice of words, which was perhaps a blessing, as I certainly would have, given the opportunity. Instead I jotted off a quick missive, providing him with only a brief account of events, and stamped it closed with my uncle’s seal. He already had a rider waiting to depart to deliver the message to Edinburgh by the swiftest route.