“Yes. Which makes him a bit unpredictable. Obsession makes men dangerous. I don’t think we can rule him out yet.”
I nodded, agreeing with his assessment of Mr. Collingwood. I knew all too well how treacherous a man overcome by an obsession could be. Had we not underestimated that man, William Dalmay might still be alive.
The carriage turned right onto York Place, passing the long rectangular building of St. Paul’s Chapel with its four rounded spires on each corner. Two women exited through one of the sets of doors, each dressed in voluminous mantels to accommodate their fashionably puffed sleeves. I grimaced, recalling my fitting, and hoping the modiste had listened to my sister’s instructions.
“I’m sorry you had to listen to his claptrap.”
I looked up to find Gage watching me with a pensive expression.
“It’s all right,” I replied, simply wanting to forget it. “I should be used to it by now.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” His voice was insistent and almost angry. “That man had no right to speak to you that way. No one does.”
I shifted in my seat, slightly taken aback by his vehemence. “That may be true. But that’s not going to stop people from doing so. It’s best if I just ignore them.”
“No, it’s not. You should confront their bad behavior.”
I frowned. “And what? Cause a scene? Gage, if I spoke up for myself every time someone snubbed or belittled me, they would be able to write a separate column about it in the society papers. That’s not going to help.”
“It would be difficult at first. But maybe after a few times, others would take a lesson and stop.”
I stared at him, my hands fisting in the fabric of my cloak. “Are you saying it’s my fault that people are saying nasty things about me?”
“No . . .”
“That if I’d just stood up for myself from the beginning, my name wouldn’t have been tarnished?”
“Well, no. Not from the beginning . . .”
I huffed an irate breath and turned aside to glare out the window.
“But if you’d started doing so from the moment your sister’s guests arrived at Gairloch Castle five months ago . . .”
“You and everyone else would still have suspected me of murder.”
He hesitated, clearly not having thought his accusation all the way through. “Then from the moment you arrived in Edinburgh.”
“After Will died? When I could not have cared less what anyone did or said?” Tears began to burn the backs of my eyes, and I turned away. I was grateful to see the green space of Queen Street Gardens giving way to town houses, which meant our turn onto Charlotte Street would come soon.
Gage remained silent, and I had hopes he would abandon the topic. But as the carriage turned left, he leaned toward me. “Well, now, then. You needn’t be so passive when others insult you. You should tell them the truth.”
I glanced up at him wearily, not bothering to point out the fact that I would have defended myself to Mr. Collingwood if he hadn’t been so quick to do so. “Gage, no one wants to hear the truth. Not when the fiction is so much more interesting.”
He frowned. “Then you must make them.”
The carriage turned right onto Charlotte Square, slowing as the black door of my sister’s town house came into sight. I could have said nothing, walked away, and hoped he would drop the matter, but I couldn’t leave without asking him one question, though it turned my stomach sour to do so.
“Why?”
Gage seemed surprised by my simple query.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you should not have to endure it—”
“No,” I interrupted him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
He appeared confused.
“Why is it so important to you that I defend myself? That I make them understand the truth?” I could hear the hurt in my voice, and I hated it. I scowled, wanting to hide it any way I could.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and it swayed gently as the footman clambered down.
The movement seemed to urge a response out of Gage. “Because I don’t like seeing you upset. I know you like to pretend you don’t care, but I can see the pain in your eyes.”
I moved to the edge of my seat as the door opened, and I gathered up my reticule. I lifted my eyes to meet his, swallowing a bubble of emotion that seemed to be choking me. “I never said I didn’t care.”
“Kiera,” he said, but I was already halfway out of the carriage, and I didn’t stop to look back.
I dashed up the steps and into the town house, trying to squash the hurt and anxiety Gage’s words had brought to the surface, but they would not be smothered so easily.