“Quite an honest group of kidnappers,” I commented wryly. In my experience, though it was limited, if a man would stoop to abduction, he would have no qualm in lying to get the ransom without returning the captive.
Lord Keswick’s mouth quirked upward in a semblance of a smile. “Yes.”
In any case, sad as Lady Margaret’s story was, by now she was likely dead, and if not, she would never be found. I could only hope she was happy wherever she was.
Gage dropped into the chair between Lord Damien and Michael, a frown still marring his otherwise handsome features.
“Trouble?” Michael asked.
He pressed his lips together tightly before responding. “Just my father being my father.”
Which was a rather curious statement. Michael opened his mouth, but hesitated to speak, as if uncertain whether to ask him to elaborate.
Gage glanced up at me before turning to his friend. “Nothing to worry about.”
I could tell he was lying, but I wasn’t going to push the matter. Not here anyway. Not only would it be impolite, but I knew he wouldn’t answer anyway. If he wouldn’t talk to me about the events at Gairloch, his time in Greece, or the real reason for his being here, he wasn’t likely to discuss his father with me.
“Your father fought in the war against France, didn’t he?” Miss Remmington surprised us all by asking.
She had been quiet this evening, even more so than this afternoon. Seated in the far corner of the room, she held a book open in her lap, but I had yet to see her flip a page. Her puckered brow made me suspect she was worried about her friend. I could understand that. I was worried for Miss Wallace myself, and I had never met the young woman. What I did find curious was the sideways glances she had been sending Michael’s way all evening. Being seated across the table from her at dinner, I’d had plenty of opportunities to observe these apprehensive looks, but I was no closer to understanding what was behind them.
“Yes,” Gage replied guardedly. “He served in the Royal Navy for almost forty years.”
Which was about as brief an answer as a man could give about the service of Captain Lord Gage. He was not only a war hero but also a great friend to the king and many other highborn citizens, who frequently called upon him to help them out of troublesome situations. His son often assisted him in these matters, which was why Philip had asked him to conduct the investigation into Lady Godwin’s murder at his estate two months before, and how I had come to be acquainted with him.
“Do you recall . . .” Miss Remmington began hesitantly. “Did he come home with nightmares?”
I glanced at her in curiosity, wondering why she was asking such a thing.
Gage fastened her with a sharp look. “I don’t know, Miss Remmington. I don’t believe so.” She dipped her chin as if he had confirmed something for her. However, before she could speak, he added, with a twist of his lips, “But I really wouldn’t know.”
I glanced at Gage, curious whether he realized how revealing that statement was about his relationship with his father.
“And, in any case, you must remember he served on a ship. Although he fought at Trafalgar and such, he spent much of the latter part of the war on the blockade and running troops and supplies back and forth from England.”
Her mouth tightened at that, and her eyes dropped to the unread pages in her lap.
“What’s troubling you, dear?” Laura’s voice was soft with concern.
Miss Remmington glanced at Michael first and I followed her gaze. Why did she keep looking at him that way? I caught Gage’s eye, and from the watchful expression I saw there I could tell he understood far more than I did.
Miss Remmington lifted her chin, as if prepared for a confrontation, and addressed her sister-in-law. “I just don’t understand why Lord Dalmay had so much trouble forgetting the war. Especially when other soldiers did not.”
I frowned at the girl’s petulant tone.
“Elise!” her brother snapped, but Laura reached over to lay a restraining hand on him.
“No,” she said calmly. “Don’t scold her. She has a right to ask.” Then she turned back to Miss Remmington with a grim smile. “We don’t know exactly why. But that’s not really a fair assessment, now, is it?” She tilted her head, urging the girl to consider the matter. “How can we know how many returning soldiers struggled with the same problems as William?”
“But surely we would have heard about it if they had.”
“That’s not likely.” Gage stared down at the swirled pattern of the rug before him. “Battle-hardened soldiers are far more likely to endure in silence. It’s all they know. And if they were to admit to having difficulties, who would they tell?” he asked Miss Remmington. “Our society doesn’t exactly welcome such confessions.”