“I’m sorry you had to stay up so late to wait for our return,” I said. “I should have told you that you needn’t wait up.”
“Well, seein’ ye in the state ye were in when ye arrived, I’m glad I did. Men dinna ken how to handle such things.” She smiled, flashing her dimples. “A’sides, I had a nice long nap last evening after dinner. Another few hours this morn and I’ll be right as a trivet.”
I yawned and nodded. The warmth of the bedding and the soothing sound of Bree’s voice combined with my own weariness were beginning to have an effect on me, despite my apprehensions.
“Did ye catch ’em then?”
I blinked up at her, momentarily stumped by the conversation’s change in subject. “The thieves?”
Her bright eyes danced with excitement. “Ye were gone so long, I was certain ye mun’ have caught ’em.”
“No,” I replied, deflating her enthusiasm. “Though we trailed their horse for quite some distance.” Or had attempted to.
She nodded and offered me a tight smile, sympathizing with our disappointment. “These men mun’ be canny.”
I knew she was trying to cheer me, but reminding me of their cleverness didn’t exactly help. I frowned at the fire burning in the hearth in the wall opposite the foot of my bed. “They are.”
When Bree did not respond or move from her position beside the bed, I looked up to find her fingering a loose thread along the seam of one of my garments. Her brow was furrowed in thought, and I could tell she was debating something with herself. When she finally glanced at me, I knew it was with some indecision.
“I wasna goin’ to say anything, especially if ye caught the men responsible. But since ye havena . . .” She sighed.
“Bree, what is it?” I asked, my muscles tightening.
“My friend . . . do I have to give her name?”
I shook my head, figuring I could coerce her into telling me if it became necessary.
“She’s a maid o’er at . . .” She shook her head, cutting off whatever revealing information she was about to share. “In another household. And she was also at the Rutherfords’ Hogmanay Bonfire.”
I tipped my head in encouragement.
“She told me she saw Sim’s Christie sneaking away from the bonfire afore midnight.”
“Where?”
“Oot into the field. Noo, I should warn ye,” she hastened to add. “My friend used to dandle after Sim’s Christie. She may just be talkin’ oot o’ spite. ’Specially if he was goin’ to meet another girl.”
I nodded, understanding what she was trying to say. The information could be completely false, and even if it wasn’t, this Sim’s Christie may have just been in the middle of conducting a tryst. But even though he may have nothing to do with the murder and the body snatching, being farther away from the light and the noise of the bonfire, he may have seen something the others had not.
“Thank you,” I told Bree. “I’m sure Mr. Gage would like to at least question him.”
She dipped her head, still clearly uncertain she should have said anything. Considering how few clues Gage and I now had to follow up on, I was grateful she had. But I could also respect her dilemma. She did not want to create unnecessary trouble for her friend or Sim’s Christie.
She turned to go and then swiveled back. “I thought you’d also like to ken, ’cause ye asked aboot him the other day, Mr. Anderley, Mr. Gage’s manservant, has been askin’ after ye doonstairs.”
“Asking after me?” I asked in some surprise.
“Aye.”
I frowned, wondering just what the valet wished to know. And whether he was acting alone or on behalf of Gage.
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Nay,” she replied quickly, but did not elaborate. Her mouth was sealed in a tight line.
She may have been telling the truth, but I suspected someone had talked, and she knew who. However, I decided it was unfair to ask her to betray the other servants, so I simply thanked her and sent her to find her bed for whatever remained of the night.
Perhaps it would be best to confront Gage about his valet myself the following day.
? ? ?
Which was exactly what I did, as our carriage stumbled along through the deep ruts all of the wet weather had created in the roads. The mud had hardened in the near freezing temperatures overnight, casting the earth into rough shapes. It jostled us back and forth on our seats, making it impossible for us to rest back with any comfort.
“Did you know your valet has been questioning my staff about me?” I demanded of Gage after we plowed through one particularly teeth-rattling portion of road.
He looked up from his survey of the scene outside the window. The gray rippling ribbon of the River Tweed lay beyond, paralleling the road. He didn’t reply immediately, but his mouth quirked up at the corners.
“Anderley can be rather . . . protective of me.”