Mortal Arts (A Lady Darby Mystery)

Gage adjusted his seat on his saddle, making his horse snuffle. He reached down to pat the gelding’s shoulder, and when he looked up again, it was as if he was on his way to face the gallows. His expression did not reassure me.

 

“When I was finishing up my last investigation in Edinburgh,” he began, “I received a letter from a man needing my assistance with a tricky matter. I agreed to meet with him, though I was none too pleased with the information he had to give me or the matter he asked me to investigate.”

 

I felt a gnawing sense of dread, making it difficult to breathe.

 

“He said he was concerned for the safety of one of his former patients and the people around him. The patient had turned violent while in his care and murdered a girl, but the family would hear nothing of his concerns when they demanded his release into their custody. I hesitated to take on the inquiry,” he said, glancing at me warily. “It seemed wrong, disloyal. But then I realized that if I didn’t agree to investigate, he would find someone else to do it. Someone who was far less discreet, or less disposed to see the accused in a favorable light.” He began pleading with me then. “You see, I had to take the inquiry. I couldn’t leave it for someone else, someone less understanding, who could care less for the Dalmays or what harm they suffered because of it.”

 

“This man . . .” I began, unable to complete the sentence.

 

Gage nodded slowly. “Was Dr. Sloane.”

 

I stared down at my horse’s mane, too overcome by hurt and anger to speak. I felt as if I were choking on it. To think I’d begun to believe the bulk of Gage’s deceits were behind us. But this . . . this was even worse than his refusal to share his reasons for dismissing my doubts during the murder investigation at Gairloch.

 

“Say something,” Gage urged. “I know you must be upset . . .”

 

“Upset!” I gasped in disbelief. “Upset? I’m bloody furious! How could you? Michael trusted you. I trusted you. And all the while you’ve been investigating for—for that man.” My horse whinnied and danced to the side.

 

“Kiera, please. I had no choice. How do you think another investigator would have treated them?”

 

“I don’t know,” I spat back, leaning over my mare and trying to soothe her. I knew she was reacting to my agitation, but I couldn’t control that. “And right now, I don’t care. Why didn’t you tell us?” I shook my head. “I knew there was another reason you were here. I knew you were lying to me. Do you ever tell the truth?”

 

“Of course,” he replied, actually having the audacity to sound hurt.

 

“When?” I demanded. “Because all I seem to ever get from you are evasions and half-truths. I can’t trust you.” The admission hurt like a knife stabbing into my very heart.

 

“Kiera, that’s not true.” He frowned. “You’re overreacting.”

 

“Oh, am I? Tell me one time, just one, when you have been totally honest with me.”

 

He opened his mouth to reply but I spoke over him.

 

“Even the way you present yourself is a lie.”

 

His mouth snapped shut and he scowled.

 

“You’re not a rake.” He looked like he was about to argue, but I cut him off again. “Just because you slept with a few widows doesn’t make you a rake. It makes you a man. I understand how the world works. But you flirt and pretend you’re one.”

 

His voice was hard. “It’s an image I have to cultivate.”

 

“For your investigations?” I replied derisively.

 

“Yes. It’s no different from the things you let others assume about you because of how awkward and aloof you seem in public.”

 

“But I don’t deliberately set out to deceive them. If they got to know me, they would see it’s not the truth.”

 

“It’s the same with me. If they got to know me . . .”

 

“But you don’t let anyone get to know you!”

 

He fumbled over his reply. “Well, you don’t let anyone get to know you either.”

 

“I let you.”

 

Gage fell silent, and that look I couldn’t decipher was back in his eyes. Was it sympathy? I turned away, feeling sick.

 

“Kiera,” he murmured.

 

“No! Just . . . don’t.” My horse shied underneath me again and I struggled to bring her around. I wanted to let her break free to take me away from there. “I can’t listen to you right now.” I loosened my hold on the reins and tightened my knees against Dewdrop’s flanks. “Don’t follow.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

 

 

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