His mouth tightened into a thin line. “I don’t know. But he definitely didn’t like us prying into his past. Did you see how wary he became when I asked him about his previous patients?”
“Then why didn’t you push him harder?” I demanded.
His eyes flashed. “Because I didn’t know what to ask. Poking around an old wound is worse than useless if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Subjects will only withdraw, and they’ll be more reluctant than before to let you meddle where they don’t want you.”
I frowned, but had to concede his point.
“Perhaps Michael’s queries into Donovan’s references will lead us somewhere. But in the meantime, I think our next course of action must be to question Mac to see if there is any truth in Donovan’s words. Depending on how Mac reacts, we may have our answer.”
“You want to question him now?” It had only been about a quarter of an hour since the irascible man had slammed the door in our faces.
Gage rose to lean over the table and blow out the brace of candles. “What better time than when his temper is less than even? It may lead him to say more than he usually would.”
The smoking wicks made my nose wrinkle. “That or he’ll refuse to cooperate.”
*
As it turned out, I wasn’t far off.
The muscle in Mac’s cheek had jumped when he answered the door to our knock, and again when Gage had insisted on speaking to him, but he had bowed to the order. He had directed us to sit in the parlor and asked, or rather, more accurately, threatened us, to speak in low voices so as not to wake Will, who was sleeping in the next room. From the way Will had looked when we visited him that morning, the exhaustion that had dragged at him, I wasn’t surprised to hear he was resting. But I was surprised by the almost tender expression I glimpsed on Mac’s face as he peered through the bedchamber door to check on him. However, by the time he turned back to us, his features had returned to looking stony and unyielding.
That jaw muscle jumped again the moment Gage started peppering him with questions and small talk, and now even his neck was rigid. His answers all measured three words or less, and he bit them out in the most belligerent tones, until Gage questioned aloud whether he was truly qualified to be caring for a man in Will’s condition. That set a fire blazing in his dark eyes.
“I been lookin’ after Cap’n Dalmay since he was fifteen. I followed him to school, and then into the cavalry. Looked after him, patched him up, and made sure he came home again. I stayed wi’ him at Swinton Lodge ’til he was taken, and I’ll be wi’ him ’til I die. No one cares for him better.”
“What did you do before you became his valet?” Gage asked. It was a legitimate question, for I certainly couldn’t see him as a footman, the normal route to such a position.
He glared at Gage. “Worked in the stables.”
“That’s a strange leap of position.”
“Aye.”
“How did that happen?”
“Cap’n Dalmay chose me.”
Apparently we were back to short answers.
Gage tilted his head. “Where did you work during the nine years of Lord Dalmay’s confinement?”
“The stables.”
“Did you know where Lord Dalmay was being held?”
“Nay,” Mac answered forcefully. “I wasna there the day he was taken. The housekeeper told me he went wi’ his father, so I hurried here. But the ole Lord Dalmay . . .” he seemed barely able to speak the former baron’s name “. . . said he wrote a letter sayin’ he were goin’ away.”
“And you believed him?”
He shook his head. “Cap’n Dalmay wasna goin’ anywhere, and if he were, he’d ha’ taken me wi’ him.” He narrowed his eyes. “No, I kenned something was wrong. Searched for him, even found oot aboot a carriage that was at Swinton. Trailed it to Edinburgh, and lost its track.” His voice lowered in defeat at the last, and I could tell from the shame in his eyes that he felt guilty he’d not tried harder.
But remorse could be a double-edged sword, making us lash out at those who made us feel such regret. How was it for Mac?
Gage laced his fingers together in his lap, a motion I knew meant he was on to something. “So you feel a responsibility to Lord Dalmay?”
“Aye,” Mac answered more calmly.
“A need to protect him?”
He nodded his head once.
“Would do almost anything to see him kept safe from further harm?”
“Aye.”
“Would you lie for him?”
I held my breath as Gage dropped the question into the silent room.
Mac’s wrinkled face folded into deeper lines and his scraggly gray eyebrows lowered over his eyes. Gage didn’t re-pose the question, but stared at the older man, ordering him to answer. For a moment, I felt convinced Mac wouldn’t speak, but then he raised his chin in challenge.
“You’re askin’ the wrong question.”
Gage arched his eyebrows.
“Aye, I just might lie for him. But have I?” He paused, making us wait. “Nay.”
I blew out my breath in a rush of air, not knowing if I believed him.