A Grave Matter

Gage’s disappointed expression immediately transformed to one of interest. “Really? Do you still have it?”

 

 

“If I do, it’s been filed away somewhere by my secretary. But I can tell you he was asking after some family heirloom. Something Celtic.”

 

“A gold torc?” I suggested.

 

He pointed at me. “Yes. That was it. Seemed to think my father had somehow acquired it. I told him I had no knowledge of it, and it was not currently housed in our family’s private collection.”

 

“Did he try to argue with you?” Gage asked, for that would seem more like the Mr. Collingwood we’d become familiar with.

 

“If he did, my secretary handled the correspondence.”

 

I turned to stare out the tall window just beyond the men’s shoulders. We really needed to speak with Mr. Collingwood. His name simply arose too often in this case for us not to heavily suspect the man. How many other family members of the founders of the Society of Antiquaries had he pestered? And would their ancestors’ bones turn up missing, too?

 

Something bright caught my attention on the opposite side of the window. I narrowed my eyes to see better as a pair of riders ambled up the lawn. The one on the left was sporting the brightest, and quite possibly the ugliest, yellow waistcoat I had ever seen. And he looked vaguely familiar.

 

I stood to move closer, and Gage and Sir Robert broke off whatever they had been saying to watch me. They turned to follow my gaze.

 

“Is that Lord Shellingham?” I asked in some surprise.

 

“Why, yes,” Sir Robert replied, and then shook his head in resignation. “Though why my nephew persists in wearing such garish clothing, I’ll never know.”

 

“Who is the other gentleman?”

 

“My son. Being an age, they’ve always been quite close.”

 

I watched as the young men disappeared around the corner of the house, presumably on their way to the stables. “I didn’t realize you were related,” I told Sir Robert.

 

He smiled. “Yes. His mother is my younger sister. Are you acquainted with my nephew?”

 

Gage’s curious expression told me he was wondering the same thing.

 

“Very recently, actually. At my aunt and uncle’s Hogmanay Ball.”

 

Gage’s eyebrows rose just a fraction, telling me he understood the implication.

 

“Ah, yes,” Sir Robert said. “I believe he attended with Mr. Young, a cousin from his father’s side. I hope they behaved themselves.”

 

“As far as I know.” I decided it would be best not to mention Lord Shellingham’s overindulgence. Given the fact that it had been Hogmanay—and over half the party had been foxed—it didn’t seem fair to hold that against him. “Why? Are they normally troublemakers?”

 

Sir Robert laughed it off. “No, no more than young gentlemen their age usually are. In truth, I’m rather proud of how well my nephew has shouldered the responsibilities of his title since his father’s death. Didn’t leave him much, I’m afraid. But then again, his grandfather didn’t leave his father much either.” Sir Robert shrugged. “His parents’ marriage was a love match—otherwise I don’t think my father would have allowed it.”

 

I found it very difficult to keep my eyes trained on our host through this speech, wanting to see if Gage was as interested to hear all of this as I was. When he’d finished and finally I could glance in his direction, Gage sat as calmly as ever, not betraying by the flick of an eyelash that the man had just given us motive for his nephew to commit the crime of body snatching and ransoming his grandfather’s remains. But I knew he was thinking of it. As sure as I knew that Sir Robert was now a little embarrassed he’d shared so much about his family.

 

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Pardon me. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Gage, you asked if anything was missing from the grave?”

 

“From the remains of your father that they returned after the ransom was paid,” Gage clarified. “Were there any bones missing?”

 

Sir Robert seemed slightly taken aback. “Well, I didn’t think to check. And, of course, we’ve already reburied him.” His brow furrowed. “Should I be concerned?”

 

“Just a formality,” Gage replied, brushing it aside as if it wasn’t consequential. I realized he was trying to spare the man’s feelings. There was no use in upsetting Sir Robert over the matter unless we heard from Lord Buchan that a bone was missing from his uncle’s remains as well. Otherwise, it might just be a detail limited to Tyler’s remains—an accidental oversight by the thieves.

 

Gage and I excused ourselves soon after. We’d barely made it into the carriage before I pounced on the new information Sir Robert had unwittingly given us.

 

“I wonder if Lord Shellingham has recently come into a sum of money.”

 

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