I nodded, having heard this suggestion from Lord Buchan’s staff as well.
“Who?” Gage demanded in justifiable confusion.
“The Nun of Dryburgh,” I repeated. “A fanciful myth they tell . . .” I broke off when I saw my uncle shake his head.
“It’s not just a myth,” he said.
My eyes widened in surprise.
“There’s a real woman who lives in a tiny hut on the property adjacent to the abbey. Though she’s never been a nun, as far as I’m aware, and her sanity is somewhat questionable.”
I glanced at Gage and then my brother, curious if they were as uncomfortable with this new information as I was.
“But she’s harmless,” he hastened to add. “Nothing more than an old woman who prefers to keep to herself.”
“You’ve met her?” Gage asked.
“Yes. Several times. But . . .” he paused, studying Gage and me in turn “. . . although I believe her to be blameless, it might be good for you to meet with her.” He spread his hands wide in explanation. “She may have seen something. Something everyone else has missed.”
Gage placed his hands on the arms of his chair as if to rise. “Then we shall go to see her now.”
“You can’t.”
Gage sank back with a start.
Uncle Andrew cleared his throat. “That is . . . she’s nocturnal.”
From what I remembered of the myth, I had half expected this answer, but it still startled me. “She . . .”
“Only goes out at night. And as far as I can tell, she only answers her door after dusk.”
Gage’s face was awash with an interesting mix of emotions. He seemed unable to decide whether to frown or laugh. Eventually, he decided on a scowl, just a slight one, that tightened the corners of his eyes. “Then we shall visit her this evening.”
My uncle nodded. “Very good.” He made to rise, but it was Gage’s turn to foil that.
“Are you acquainted with a Lewis Collingwood?”
He sat back in his chair with a frown and lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if the answer were written there. “No. I don’t believe so. Should I be?”
Gage shook his head. “Just curious. He’s a man Buchan mentioned in passing.”
I turned to stare at Gage, surprised he was being so vague with my uncle. The man was a magistrate, after all, and my relative. Did he suspect him as well?
“One last thing . . . Are you aware of any of your guests visiting the abbey ruins earlier in the day on December thirty-first?”
My uncle seemed to have been taken unawares by the question, for he glanced at his son. “I can’t say with any certainty. I know several of the guests took their mounts and carriages out. And, of course, I wouldn’t be aware what the guests who only arrived that day did on their journey here. That was their matter.”
“Certainly,” Gage replied in an effort to placate my frowning uncle. “But would you give the matter some thought and make a list of those who you remember taking their horses out? It might clear them of any suspicion.”
Or do the exact opposite. I resisted the urge to glare at him, knowing he was only telling my uncle what he needed to hear to get the information he required, for indeed, Uncle Andrew nodded and agreed to consider the matter.
? ? ?
“What was that?” I demanded of Gage as he climbed into the carriage after me.
He stared across the space between us as if he didn’t know what I meant.
“Don’t you trust my uncle either?”
His gaze dropped, suddenly finding something of great interest on the dark fabric of his greatcoat. “To a certain extent. After all, Lord Rutherford’s reputation precedes him. He’s been a magistrate for this Border region for over twenty years.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Then why the subterfuge?”
“Well, Lord Rutherford is also known to be quite . . . strict. Starchy. I thought it best to leave him as much in the dark as possible regarding my methods.” His eyes rose to probe mine. “Was I wrong?”
I swallowed, recalling how reluctant Uncle Andrew had been to allow me to assist in the investigation. How he still disapproved. I’m sure Gage had deduced as much. “No.”
His gaze continued to search my face, and I began to look away when he spoke. “I started to think your brother was a man of the same stripe, but then he allowed you to come away alone with me.”
I, too, had been surprised when Trevor sent me off to the village of St. Boswells alone with Gage. I had expected him to insist on accompanying us, but instead he’d declared he had business to discuss with our uncle. Not for the first time, I’d been left with the uneasy feeling that all was not well with my brother’s estate. It was something I should have been more attuned to before now, but being so wrapped up in my own grief, I’d ignored it. My brother’s demeanor had been oddly solemn since I’d arrived, and I suspected now that it wasn’t only because of my own distress.