“No.” Seeing my anxious expression, he offered me a tight smile. “I’ve been waiting for death a long time now, Kiera. It no longer has the power to frighten me.”
I wasn’t certain I liked hearing that, yet, under the circumstances, I thought I understood. But I desired to change the subject anyway.
“What was it like living here?”
He looked a question and I hastened to explain.
“I’ve spent a good deal of time with my sister at Gairloch, but it’s been so modernized that sometimes it doesn’t feel much like a castle. Banbogle has hardly seen any renovations.”
He sighed. “Cold, drafty, damp, smelly. Chunks of the ceiling used to fall sometimes, and once the north stairwell caved under the weight of a footman.”
I gasped, but he merely smiled.
“But it was home. And great fun when we’d play King Arthur or Rob Roy.”
I looked behind me again at the castle. Moss and lichen had nearly overtaken the walls on this side of it, and a great gaping hole opened into the ground floor, one a person could walk straight into, if she wasn’t afraid of the rest of it coming down on her head.
“It’s too bad it’s no longer safe to explore,” I remarked, twisting further around to see what the object was that had caught my eye.
“Oh, I can still move around in there.”
I snapped my head back to look at him in wide-eyed shock.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m careful. And I don’t do it often.” He nodded to where Mac stood, one leg propped up on a rock as he stared out to sea. My horse stood nearby, her head bent to nibble at the grass growing along the verge of the path. “Mac doesn’t like my clambering about the ruins. Worse than an old nursemaid, he is.”
As if he sensed we were talking about him, Mac turned to look at us. He watched us for a moment, a contemplative look on his old, grizzled face. And then it was gone and he was striding toward us. “Time to return?” he asked Will.
“Aye,” Will replied, imitating his thick brogue.
Mac nodded, not reacting to his employer’s jest, and turned back to gather the reins of my horse.
Rather than taking the time to bustle the train of my riding habit, I draped it over my arm and rose to walk with Will down the path back toward Dalmay House. Mac trailed behind us, leading Dewdrop.
The afternoon was so fair, with its bright blue sky and the blazing autumn foliage, that it suddenly seemed absurd to believe Will was capable of anything nefarious. I was aware that Michael and Gage might not be happy with me for doing so, but it felt like the height of ridiculousness that we hadn’t simply come out and asked Will about Mary Wallace. What was the worst we could uncover?
So I did just that, starting by asking if he knew who she was. I heard Dewdrop snuffle behind me, as if Mac might have pulled on her reins too hard, but I ignored the old man.
Will smiled warmly. “Oh, yes. We’ve met a time or two. Lovely girl. Do you know her?”
I felt a sudden chill, not having expected him to answer in the affirmative. And then I scolded myself for it. So he knew her. That meant nothing.
“Uh, no. But I spoke with her father recently,” I answered with care, uncertain how much he knew about Miss Wallace’s disappearance, if in fact he knew anything at all. “He seems like a very nice man.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure. But Mary speaks of him with great affection.”
I was surprised to hear him speak of her in such a familiar manner, but then I remembered that Dr. Winslow had said he was often overly familiar with people’s names—a side effect from his time spent at the Larkspur Retreat.
From the tone of his voice, it seemed obvious that Will did not know anything about Mary Wallace being missing. He was not concerned, nor did he seem frightened for her. So if he’d had anything to do with her disappearance himself, then either she was safe or he didn’t remember. The latter did nothing to cheer me; nor the former, for that matter. But could Will really have harmed a person and not remember it? It seemed so unbelievable. And yet Dr. Sloane’s accusation hung over it all like a pall.
“I was told she likes to stroll along the water. Is that where you two met?”
He nodded. “Miss Remmington introduced us.”
It was my turn to be shocked again. “When?”
Hearing the unease in my voice, he hesitated.
“I’m just surprised she never mentioned it, is all. She was telling me how much she liked Miss Wallace.”