“Has William talked about what happened to him there?” Philip asked.
Michael frowned. “Not much. He’s mentioned a few things to me, but most of what I know has come from studying his drawings.”
I leaned forward. “Like the ones we saw last night?”
He nodded.
“Would he talk to his manservants?” This would seem a sensible question to Philip, who was far more familiar with his valet than most gentlemen.
Michael narrowed his eyes, considering the matter. “Maybe Mac. But I really don’t know.”
Philip blew out a long breath and sank deeper in his chair. “So we don’t actually know what William witnessed in the asylum, or whether it would cause Dr. Sloane alarm if it got out.”
“I think just the fact that he was willing to bypass the proper channels to take Will in as a patient says a lot about Dr. Sloane and his ‘retreat.’” I sneered.
“Why on earth didn’t your father get a second opinion?” Philip asked in bewilderment.
We lapsed into silence. There was no answer to that. None of us knew what the old Lord Dalmay could possibly have been thinking, least of all Michael, who looked utterly overwhelmed and dejected.
“It’s been troubling you greatly, hasn’t it?” Gage told Michael. “What Dr. Sloane told you?” His friend slowly lifted his head to look at him. “You don’t want to believe it, and yet you have no way of disproving it without asking your brother. But you don’t want to ask him, because you’re afraid of what he will say. Will he admit to it? Will he deny it? Will he even remember it at all?”
The stricken look on Michael’s face was all that was needed for us to know that Gage spoke the truth. “He was so fragile. You should have seen him when I first brought him here. He could barely recall my name.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t ask him about it. I didn’t want to ask him about it. I didn’t want to make him think I doubted him.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and turned to stare out at the bright light pouring through the windows. I wished I were standing next to the firth again with the sun beating down on me, no matter how stiff the wind.
“What if William genuinely doesn’t remember? How will we ever discover the truth?” I demanded of myself as much as them, desperately wanting an answer.
Philip’s voice was kind. “With so little to go on, we may never know.”
Gage frowned. “But if he killed a woman . . . ?”
“If. If he killed a woman, that’s what’s key here. And all that connects William Dalmay to a dead woman is Dr. Sloane’s word.”
Gage rubbed his finger over his lips, considering what Philip had said. “But what about this missing girl?”
“What about her?” I asked.
“Well, clearly Dalmay is worried that his brother may have had something to do with her disappearance; otherwise he would never have brought any of this up for discussion.”
I turned to Michael, disheartened to see that Gage was right.
“I don’t think he did.” He tried to sound assertive. “I don’t think he knew her at all. But . . . how am I to be absolutely certain?” He seemed tormented by the possibility, and I couldn’t bear to see him doubting his brother that way. I couldn’t bear feeling that I doubted him myself.
“Then we’ll just have to go about proving he’s not involved,” I declared.
Michael looked confused. “How do we do that?”
“We’ll simply have to find this missing girl.”
“But we know nothing of her disappearance,” Gage said dampeningly, but I could see the spark of interest in his eyes.
“Well, that’s easily remedied. Michael, can you arrange a meeting with the girl’s father as soon as possible?”
“Of course.”
“Then we should pay a visit to whatever authorities are handling the investigation into her disappearance and learn what they’ve uncovered so far.”
“They won’t appreciate our interference,” Gage told me, though I noticed he had inferred his assistance in the matter by using the word our instead of your.
My heart began to beat faster at the realization that Gage and I would be working together again.
“Maybe not.” I arched my eyebrows. “But has that ever stopped you before?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “No.”
An answering smile curled my lips. “I thought not.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Philip tells me you’ve decided to stay.” Alana’s voice was carefully modulated, but I could hear her concern and see it in the reflection of her bright blue eyes in the mirror. I was relieved at least to hear that my brother-in-law hadn’t decided to resume his campaign to convince me to retreat to Edinburgh with them. After the revelations in the study, I had been prepared for further objections or, even worse, for Philip to make good on his threat to remove me forcefully from Dalmay House.
I watched as her maid secured the last few pins in her hair. “Yes.”