“It could mean nothing. Many people stop to visit the abbey ruins,” Trevor pointed out. “Perhaps they were simply a pair of young gentlemen out on a lark.”
I lifted my carnelian red skirts as I stepped over a particularly muddy patch in the drive. “Maybe. But in that case, they likely also attended the Rutherford Ball. Every gentleman for miles around was there, and many from farther afield.”
“Then your aunt and uncle should be able to give us a good idea who they might have been,” Gage chimed in, pausing at the side of the carriage. “St. Mawr is right. They might have been doing nothing but indulging in a bit of idle curiosity.”
I arched my eyebrows, not fooled by his display of indifference. “Or they were scouting the location for a digging expedition later that night.” Taking Trevor’s proffered hand, I climbed up into the carriage before Gage could respond.
My brother followed me inside, sitting beside me, as he had on the ride to Dryburgh. Which left Gage to take the seat across from us, forcing me to either look out the window or meet his laughing gaze. He had known that I wouldn’t be able to resist countering his argument, even though I knew he was as aware of the alternative possibility as I was.
The carriage swayed slightly from side to side as it slowly rolled forward over the gravel, bumping Trevor’s shoulder against mine. I looked up as Gage removed the bundle of clothing we had found in the abbey from inside his black greatcoat, where he’d stored it during our interview with Lord Buchan. He rested it on the seat beside him.
Trevor inhaled as if coming to some decision. “How did you know that dress belonged to a young lady?” he asked Gage. Though I knew he’d meant for the question to sound casual, I realized it was far from that. I suspected Gage did, too, if the subtle manner in which his nostrils flared was any indication.
“The gown is pale pink,” Gage replied as if that was answer enough. And it would have been for any woman, or a fashion-conscious man. But a dandy my brother was not, and neither was he particularly observant when it came to women’s clothing choices.
“Only debutantes wear pale pink, Trevor. It’s insipid on older women.”
He turned to me in chagrin. “Oh.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s all right, dearest. Had you known that, I would have worried you were coming down with something.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Yes, well, half the time I don’t even notice what color waistcoat Shep is handing me. Is it blue or green?”
“Today it’s slate gray.”
He arched a single eyebrow in irritation. “Well, if we’re being precise.”
I shrugged and turned toward the window. “You should have known better than to ask an artist.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Uncle Andrew, Aunt Sarah, and their family and few remaining guests were just sitting down to luncheon when Gage, Trevor, and I arrived at Clintmains Hall. They insisted we join them. So as chairs and place settings were added to the already crowded table in the family parlor, I introduced Gage, suddenly grateful that only a handful of the many members from my mother’s side of our family were in attendance. He was apparently already familiar with my cousins Jock and Andy, and Miss Witherington also appeared to have made his acquaintance. She curtseyed very prettily for him and offered him her hand with a sickeningly sweet smile. I would have liked nothing more than to transform it into one of her withering glares, as it always made her lips tighten into an ugly little moue, but my aunt had news for me.
She linked her arm with mine and pulled me a short distance away from the others. “I’m afraid none of the guests or staff had anything of interest to tell me.” She offered me a sad smile in apology. “I don’t know whether that is because they truly didn’t see anything of importance or because they’re unwilling to admit it, but either way, I’m sorry I don’t have any information to add to the investigation.”
I patted her hand where it rested on my arm. “I understand, Aunt Sarah. Thank you for trying.”
“Of course, dear.” Her eyes rose to just over my shoulder, and I looked up to see that Gage was also listening to our conversation. “But should you wish to question them yourself, please do so. Here is the list of Hogmanay guests I promised you. I made a few helpful notations beside some of the names. Those who are invalids, or were too sotted at the ball to have gotten into much mischief.”
I returned her playful smile and slid the list into the pocket of my walking dress.