A Grave Matter

It had been nearly midnight before we reached Edinburgh. After a long day crowded inside a carriage with Gage, Bree, and Anderley, jostled about by the rough roads and even rougher winds, I’d wanted nothing more than to fall into a warm, soft bed. I knew Alana and Philip well enough to expect that the bedchamber I had used before moving to Blakelaw House would still be ready for me.

 

Philip had been working before a cheery fire in his study and, after a warm embrace, immediately ushered me inside. A tea tray was sent for, and a maid dispatched up to my room to light the fire and show Bree about. We’d barely broached the topic of the reason for my visit when we heard Alana calling down the stairs from above. We’d gone to meet her, worried that in her haste to descend she might trip.

 

I was surprised by the force of her grip as she pulled me to her, burying her face in my hair. She professed her joy to see me, though the tears streaming down her cheeks seemed to belie her words. I stared wide-eyed over her shoulder at Philip, but he merely smiled and shrugged. Apparently, this extreme show of emotion was normal. I guessed it had something to do with the child she was carrying, who was now evident in the gentle swell of her stomach pressed against my side.

 

I was pleased to see how healthy she looked. Gone was the wan complexion and hollow eyes from her queasy stomach and fatigue, and in their place she showed a healthy glow and slightly plumped cheeks, as well as the encouraging bump at her abdomen. I could feel myself breathe a sigh of relief. Much as she and Philip had insisted in their letters that she was doing well, I realized I had not fully believed them. But here was confirmation.

 

Alana wanted to join us in Philip’s study, but late as the hour was, and as uneager as I was to answer the questions I knew my inquisitive sister would ask, I instead wrapped my arm around her waist and urged her back upstairs. She argued for a moment, but when I pled weariness, she reluctantly gave in, insisting we would speak the next day.

 

Gage’s arrival that morning as we were eating breakfast had postponed that conversation a few hours longer, though I could tell from my sister’s expression as we left that I would not be allowed to put it off indefinitely.

 

When the carriage veered down Princes Street instead of following the road up toward the Old Town, I turned toward Gage in surprise. “Aren’t we meeting him at the police house off Old Stamp Office Close?”

 

His eyebrows arched high. He was clearly stunned I knew such a thing, though he shouldn’t have been. “No. Sergeant Maclean thought it best to meet us somewhere a little less conspicuous.”

 

I frowned down at the deep forest green skirts of my gown.

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “You truly thought I was going to take you inside the police house?”

 

I felt my cheeks begin to heat at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. “I know it’s no place for a lady. Especially one of my reputation. But yes. I was.”

 

“It’s nothing to see,” he informed me, the softened tone of his voice clearly communicating that he sensed my disappointment.

 

I nodded, both of us knowing that was far from the truth.

 

“And in any case, I don’t think your presence was the only reason Sergeant Maclean directed us elsewhere.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Gage turned to look out at the shops passing by. “Maclean’s superior may or may not have agreed to let him pursue this investigation.”

 

“But why would he object?” I asked. “Clearly there are crimes being committed.”

 

“Yes, but they’re not necessarily within Edinburgh’s jurisdiction, and I’m sure the Superintendent of Police would rather his men pursue active investigations in Edinburgh.”

 

I scowled. “So because these body snatchings are occurring in different locations outside of the city, he’s not interested in seeing them solved?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he’s interested,” Gage replied, glancing out once again as the carriage rolled to a stop. “But without one of the high-ranking men who had their ancestor’s body stolen making a complaint—and they won’t, seeing as they have their ancestor back and they have no wish to involve the police—it’s not his highest priority.” He pushed open the carriage door and climbed down before reaching in for my hand to help me out.

 

“That’s ridiculous. If they’re refusing to investigate such crimes, then who is going to catch these criminals?”

 

He tucked my arm through his and grinned. “That’s where we come in.”

 

A warm feeling spread throughout my chest in spite of the nip in the wind. I looked away, lest I stand there all day smiling stupidly at him. The shop before us served tea, and although it was still quite early for most to stop in and enjoy the beverage, the “Open” sign hung prominently in the window. Gage escorted me inside, and we were immediately surrounded by the herbal aroma of tea and the sweet scent of pastries baking. The smells were so heavenly that I believe I actually sighed in delight.

 

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