Was Gage ashamed of me? Embarrassed to be reminded of my scandalous reputation? Was that why he was so eager to see me defend myself, even when the situation was impossible? Not every person could be reasoned with—he should know that, perhaps better than most. So why was he so angry with me for not standing up for myself sooner?
At Gairloch I still hadn’t been ready. I’d been too beaten down and afraid. It had taken someone insulting my sister’s support of me for me to finally speak up. And upon our arrival in Edinburgh two and a half months ago, I hadn’t cared. I was too wrapped up in my grief over Will’s death. What did it matter to me what others said about me?
Since our return to Edinburgh he’d spent little time with me in public, so how could he know how I handled the slights and insults of others? It seemed grossly unfair that he should attack me for being passive. One incident, in which he’d given me no time to respond before jumping to my defense, hardly seemed like an adequate example.
Gage was not normally so unreasonable, so I had to suspect there was more to his sudden desire that I defend myself than this single confrontation with Mr. Collingwood. Which left me with an unsettling pain in my chest and an unhappy suspicion. A suspicion I’d been trying to ignore from the very first moment I’d accepted that Gage was interested in me in more than just a friendly capacity.
I’d known from the beginning how unlikely a relationship between a man like Gage and myself would be. He was charming and attractive and popular, I was awkward and eccentric and barely tolerated. So what would a man like Gage see in me . . . other than my abilities?
I choked back a sob.
I’d proven myself to be quite able as an investigator—something I’d felt great pride in, but now it brought me only an immeasurable amount of sadness. I almost wished I’d proved to be clumsy and incompetent. Then I might at least know that Gage was interested in me for me, and not for my talents of detection.
I’d already endured marriage to a man who was solely interested in my artistic abilities. By the time I’d discovered Sir Anthony’s real intentions for me, it had been too late to obtain an annulment, and I was trapped in a living nightmare. I had no intention of ever allowing myself to enter into such an uncertain relationship again, no matter how tempting it might be. Not without knowing for sure that the man could be trusted, that his intentions were true.
But how could I ever know for sure? How could I ever believe that Gage was truly interested in me, and not the assistance I could give him?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I tried to be cheerful, or at least responsive, as Madame Avignon’s assistant made the last few adjustments to my dress. Blessedly, the modiste had followed my sister’s instructions, making the sleeves rather short and far less puffed than many of the gowns I’d seen recently. Alana had chosen a lovely deep blue, a shade or two darker than the color of our eyes, and ordered the belt, the trim, and the flounces to be made in a complementary shade of pale blue and white. The neckline was slightly lower than I was accustomed to and, gathered as it was, showed a rather large amount of cleavage. But Alana and the seamstress assured me this was the current fashion in evening dresses, and I bowed to their expertise.
I’d caught Alana looking at me oddly from time to time throughout the fitting, and I tried to shake myself from the sullen stupor that had come over me, but truly my effort was minimal. I was only too happy to escape to my room to bathe and let Bree dress my hair.
She chattered happily while she curled my hair, telling me more things about the running of Philip and Alana’s household than I was certain I wanted to know. Nonetheless, I was glad to hear she had settled in so easily with a new staff, especially after the trouble I’d had with my previous maid. It was soothing somehow to just let her words wash over me—undemanding and inconsequential. I suspected Bree knew this as well, for she had never been one to prattle.
She was also excited, her eyes bright and her movements quick, and I realized that, other than the Hogmanay Ball, this was her first chance to truly test her skills as a lady’s maid. I tried my best not to dampen her spirits, and even allowed her to style my hair taller than I normally would have permitted. I had to admit she’d done an admirable job imitating the pictures on the latest fashion plates. In an hour my unruly hair would be deflated and falling from its pins, but for now it looked quite elegant.
Alana gasped in delight when she entered my room to find Bree just finishing buttoning up my gown in the back. “Oh, you look lovely!” A knowing smirk crossed her face. “I knew that gown would suit you. Now, if you would only let me replace your other dresses.”
I scowled in displeasure, but she merely laughed and waved Bree out of the room.
Moving toward me, she lifted her hands to reveal the sapphire and diamond necklace I had seen her wear on more than one occasion. “This will go perfectly.”
“Alana . . .”