Gage shook his head. “The magistrate will argue that they’re consistent with any violent abduction.”
“But the bloodletting marks?” I pressed. “Why would a simple kidnapper do such a thing?”
His eyes narrowed in consideration. “That may just be our linchpin, for it won’t be easy for them to explain away. We need to speak with a surgeon, to make certain there are no contingencies for bloodletting we have not considered that would ruin our argument.” He turned to Michael. “We also need to better search Lord Dalmay’s chambers and the surrounding area to make certain we’re not missing something. Can you send some of your men out to search the woods and to ask around in Cramond and Dalmay village, and even as far away as Queensferry? I don’t want to discover later that Donovan fooled us by making us think he escaped by boat when actually he walked away on foot.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Gage search Will’s rooms and then buried in the library. Our exploration of Will’s chambers achieved nothing except to heighten my concern for Will as he lay unresponsive first on his bed, and then on the settee in his parlor while we examined his bedchamber. Whatever Donovan had used to introduce the scent of valerian root into Will’s rooms had been removed, as well as any other incriminating evidence.
The library had also yielded no new information, but in this case, that wasn’t such a disappointing thing. Will and Michael’s father had amassed quite an amazing collection of medical treatises and textbooks, perhaps purchased in an effort to find information to help his battle-fatigued son. Regardless of how they got there, I was grateful for the selection, and after several long hours scouring their pages, I felt relatively confident we could combat almost any potential argument that Miss Wallace’s being bled could be related to something other than the asylum. The only point of contention I could not entirely refute was the reasoning that it would have temporarily weakened her, but I felt we could argue the redundancy of such an action when Miss Wallace had already been bound and beaten. There were also the marks themselves to consider, for they had obviously been done with some skill, pointing toward a perpetrator who had experience with the procedure—either a surgeon or an apothecary. Dr. Sloane neatly fell into this group.
I stood to stretch my back and glanced out the tall wall of windows toward the overcast skies. The already hazy light of late afternoon had begun to fade with the approach of thicker clouds from the west. I hoped those who’d gone out to search wouldn’t be caught in the rain. I began to wonder if we should have searched the ruins of Banbogle in the off chance there might be evidence there that could be washed away by a downpour, when Michael rushed into the room.
“William has escaped.”
My head snapped around and Gage shot to his feet, dropping the text he’d been reading on the table in front of him with a thud.
“What?” he shouted.
“He nearly knocked Mac unconscious with a wooden tray before bolting out the door.”
I pressed a hand to my mouth in shock.
Gage rounded the table toward Michael. “Are we certain he escaped—and wasn’t taken by Donovan or that fool of a constable?”
“Yes. He darted past a maid on the servants’ staircase, frightening her half to death.”
“Is Mac all right?” I ventured to ask.
Michael’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Yes. He’s got a devil of a headache, and he’s beyond furious, but he’ll recover. Mrs. MacDougall is stitching him up right now.”
I cringed at the realization Will had hit him hard enough to draw blood. “I don’t understand,” I said as I joined the men near the doorway. “Why would he run off like that? Why would he attack Mac?”
Gage’s expression was grim, and I could read the bleak thoughts shining in his eyes before he even voiced them.
“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “Don’t tell me you think him culpable of Miss Wallace’s murder after everything we’ve discovered about Donovan and his association to Dr. Sloane.” There was anger in my voice, but also desperation. We were so close to proving Will’s innocence. I simply did not want to contemplate the possibility he might not be. That he might actually have killed the girl.
“I don’t know.” His voice was carefully modulated, but I could hear in it the concern that raised it a pitch higher than normal. “There are too many other factors to consider. Other reasons he could have fled. The best thing we can do is find him.”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“Have any of the footmen returned from their search of the woodlands and villages?” he asked Michael.
He shook his head. “And neither has Lord Damien or Keswick.” They had volunteered to ride to Queensferry, some distance off.
Gage inhaled deeply and exhaled, the muscles in his shoulders flexing in an eagerness to act. “Then that leaves just the two of us. Where do you think he’s gone?”