Mortal Arts (A Lady Darby Mystery)

“What about me?” I protested. “I can help.”

 

 

“We need you to stay here and direct the search. Should the others return before we do, you can send them back out to look for Dalmay.”

 

“But surely Laura or Michael’s butler can do that.”

 

“But I’m asking you to do it.”

 

I scowled at him in frustration. “Gage, you are already short on men . . .”

 

“Yes, so Michael and I need to set out, not stand here arguing with you.”

 

I bristled, furious that he would speak to me in such a way.

 

“Kiera,” he added, gentling his tone, “pause to consider the matter. What if Dalmay should return of his own accord? Someone he trusts needs to be here to receive him.”

 

I was not happy with his orders, but I had to concede his point. Someone should be here to manage Will, and with Mac injured and Laura ignorant of much of what was happening, that left only me. However, from the intensity of his gaze, I suspected there was more to his determination to see I stayed safely inside the walls of Dalmay House than simple common sense. Perhaps bad memories from our last interaction with a murderer.

 

“All right,” I murmured. “I’ll do as you wish. But you do realize this isn’t like at Gairloch.”

 

His pale blue eyes flashed with some nameless emotion, but all he said was “Thank you.”

 

I nodded and returned to my books, leaving him and Michael to decide where they would search for William first.

 

Ten minutes later, I watched through the open front door as Gage’s and Michael’s horses galloped down the drive toward Cramond. With any luck, they would overtake Will, whom they assumed to be on foot, before he left the Dalmay property. He couldn’t have gone far. I just hoped there was a reasonable explanation for his strange actions. I hadn’t liked the blank stare he wore earlier when we searched his rooms, but he had seemed so dejected that he appeared harmless. Perhaps I had misread the situation.

 

I still couldn’t believe he had clubbed Mac over the back of the head with a wooden tray. I would never have believed Will capable of such a thing. But, then again, I had never believed he would harm me. I flexed my right hand. I suspected I wouldn’t be able to hold a paintbrush or writing implement comfortably for several days, but I could tell now there was no permanent damage. I didn’t need Dr. Winslow to confirm that, but Michael had sent for him anyway—for me, for Will, and now for Mac.

 

Stepping back from the door as the two men on horseback disappeared from sight, I turned to retreat to the drawing room and gasped as I almost collided with a man’s chest.

 

“Mac.” I pressed a hand over my pounding heart and gave a breathless laugh at my jumpiness. “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be lying down.”

 

A thick white bandage was wrapped around his grizzled head, stained with blood on the right temple above his eye. There were deep lines around his eyes and mouth, telling me he was in pain, but he seemed determined to ignore it. “Where are they goin’? To search for Cap’n Dalmay?”

 

“Yes. To Cramond.”

 

Mac’s scowl deepened. “He’s no’ in Cramond.”

 

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh? Then where is he?”

 

His gaze met mine levelly and suddenly I knew without his saying a word.

 

“Of course!” I exclaimed. I whirled back toward the drive, realizing it was too late to catch up with Gage and Michael. They were far out of sight, the dust already settled in their wake.

 

I pressed a hand to my forehead, considering what I should do. I could wait for one of the footmen, or possibly Keswick and Damien, to return and send one of them after Will. But that could be hours from now. It would be dark soon, and it was growing colder by the minute. I doubted Will had thought to dress warmly before his mad dash to escape.

 

I bit my lower lip and turned to look at Mac. The only alternative was for us to go after him, and if I was reading Mac’s expression correctly, that was what he was determined for us to do. I knew Gage wouldn’t like me leaving the safety of Dalmay House, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t stand here and pace the floor when I knew where William was. He could catch a dreadful chill, or fall victim to an accident. The ruins of Banbogle Castle were not exactly a safe place. I glanced back out the door toward the ominous clouds building in the west. And it would start raining soon.

 

That decided it. If he was clambering around on those crumbling, drafty ruins in the middle of a rainstorm he would probably slip and bash his head open or break a leg.

 

Mac must have read the resolve in my eyes, for he offered to come with me before I even told him I was going.

 

“Are you certain you can manage?” I protested, eyeing Mac’s bloodstained bandage.

 

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