Mortal Arts (A Lady Darby Mystery)

His anger sparked again. “But that Dr. Sloane . . .”

 

 

“Not Dr. Sloane,” I said, shaking my head. “Not Larkspur Retreat. But there are more humane asylums. Places where you can visit the patients to be certain they are being well cared for. And if that is where Will needs to go, we’re not helping him by lying to keep him with us.”

 

I waited a moment to allow my words to sink in. “Mac, we need the truth.”

 

I had not thought it possible for Mac’s perpetually grim face to fall even more, but it did. And its bleakness touched me.

 

“Aye. I’ll tell ye.”

 

I glanced at Gage, whose temper had cooled considerably in the face of the man’s willing cooperation. “How is it that Lord Dalmay is able to escape his chambers whenever he wishes?” His voice had an edge to it, telling me he was keeping himself tightly restrained. “Is it through the servants’ stairs?”

 

Mac’s gaze darted to Michael, who looked unhappy. “Aye. When he first came back to us, I noticed that Cap’n Dalmay didna like feelin’ trapped, as he had been at the asylum. It made him upset. So I thought it would do no harm to let him think he could escape. And I always followed him when he did.” He scowled. “But then there were a couple o’ times when he got by me wi’oot me bein’ aware. Oh, we found ’im right quick, but it bothered me that he’d gotten to be so cunning. So I started lockin’ the door again when I wasna on duty. I was worrit he’d do himsel’ harm.”

 

“We found it unlocked last night.” Michael’s voice snapped like a whip. “Was that you?”

 

He had the grace to look abashed, which gave the manservant a rather hangdog look. “Aye.”

 

“What of the boat?” Gage asked.

 

“What boat?”

 

“The one stored in the ruins at Banbogle Castle.” He nodded toward me. “Lady Darby saw it there yesterday afternoon.”

 

Mac’s grizzled brow ruffled in confusion. “I’ve ne’er seen a boat there.”

 

“You didn’t notice the boat inside the crumbled section of the wall?” I asked.

 

“Nay. Are ye sure it was a boat?”

 

I considered the matter, wondering if I’d been seeing things. It had been tucked in the shadows and I hadn’t gone any closer to be sure. “Yes. There was a boat,” I stated, not willing to be swayed on this.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful. “I didna see it.”

 

I nodded, deciding to believe him. In any case, it wouldn’t do any good to press the matter. “Do you recall who was on duty with William Thursday last, particularly in the afternoon?”

 

“I was,” he replied with a great deal of confidence. “And then Lachlan.”

 

“Lachlan? Where was Donovan?”

 

“He had the day off.”

 

I cast a fleeting look at Gage, wondering if he found that piece of information as interesting as I did. “Did he tell you how he planned to spend it?”

 

Mac scoffed at the idea. Obviously the two men were not good friends. “Nay. Just that he left the estate.”

 

“And William. Can you tell me with any certainty whether you or Lachlan was with him at all times during that day?”

 

“Aye. He ne’er left my sight. And wee Lachlan woulda told me had he escaped his. That lad is scairt o’ his ain shadow, as well as me.”

 

We’d heard from Mac’s own lips just how stealthy Will had become. He just might have escaped without them knowing it.

 

But for the several hours it would have taken him to row to Cramond Island and back? Could he really have gone missing for that long without it being noticed? And where had he kept Miss Wallace? She had not died until the night before last, five days after being taken.

 

The only place I could think of was Banbogle Castle. Which would mean that her body could have been lying inside, long since gone cold, while I chatted with Will just yesterday. The idea sent a chill down my spine. The castle would have to be searched. I only prayed we didn’t find evidence I was right.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

 

 

Since William was still unresponsive, Gage and I decided our next course of action should be to speak to Donovan and find out just where he’d gone on the day Miss Wallace disappeared. I followed Gage down the hall away from Will’s rooms, nearly colliding with his back when he hesitated at the junction of the corridor. The door leading to the main staircase was to the left, but he glanced to the right, toward the servants’ stairs. With a wry glance over his shoulder at me, he strode down the hall to this second set of stairs. As suspected, the door was unlocked.

 

“Well, Mac is on duty.” I sighed.

 

Gage arched an eyebrow, but gestured me through the doorway. It would be quicker to take this flight of stairs straight down to Donovan’s room in the servants’ quarters. We descended a flight and a half only to stumble to a halt at the sight of the person coming up.

 

Miss Remmington glanced up at us guiltily, her eyes still rimmed in red from crying.

 

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