Chapter 18
“Anything I should know about the coroner’s inquest?” I asked Gage.
It was the first time we’d broached the subject since he’d returned to Bevington Park and found me conversing with Mrs. Taylor.
We’d been finalizing the room assignments for the guests arriving in two days when he’d grasped my hand and quietly drawn me away.
Mrs. Taylor had only smiled, as charmed by my husband as everyone else, and promised she had the matter well in hand.
I’d been sorely pressed not to burst into laughter and ruin our escape as we’d stolen down the corridors and up the stairs, darting around corners and stepping into doorways so as not to be seen.
We’d only been spotted by one maid, who tittered to herself as we scuttled past and Gage murmured, “Nothing to see here.”
“They’ll think we’re balmy,” I’d protested, breathless with suppressed mirth.
“They’ll think we’re in love,” he corrected. I had to concede; he was probably right.
We collected Emma from the nursery, inducting her into our little game.
She was terrible at it. Far too giggly for a prison escapee.
But we made it clear of the house and set off down the shortcut to the dower house at a gentle run, with Emma in her father’s arms. I’d only made it a few hundred yards before we had to stop because of the stitch in my side from all my suppressed amusement.
Now that we were out of sight of the manor, we could slow our steps to a walk anyway, strolling hand in hand toward our country home.
Jeffers, our butler, was delighted to see us, and I him.
He along with a handful of staff had been maintaining the cottage while we were staying up at the hall.
Though he and most of our staff would also be transferring to the manor in anticipation of the other guests’ arrival.
It would be all hands on deck for the extra staff would be needed, in particular Jeffers.
Fortunately, he and Bowcott cooperated well with each other, for I’d known other butlers who became territorial and more consumed with who outranked whom than the success of an event when forced to work with others of a similar rank.
We’d gone immediately to the long room at the back of the cottage we’d dubbed the solar.
It had swiftly become our favorite place.
After throwing open the two sets of French doors leading out to the veranda and the garden beyond, Jeffers retreated to the kitchen to ask our cook to prepare tea and sandwiches.
Gage had set Emma down so that she could toddle around while we’d promptly collapsed side by side onto the mint green upholstered settee.
For a long time, we simply sat in silence, listening to the birds twittering, the tick of the clock on the mantel, and Emma babbling and grunting to herself as she explored.
There were no stairs from the veranda into the garden, so as long as she remained in sight she was free to roam.
I felt my heart settle into a slower rhythm and turned my head to rest my ear over Gage’s heart to hear if his had done the same.
His hand lowered from the back of the couch to idly play with the curls at the side of my head.
Though somewhat loath to bring up the subject of the inquest, I’d decided it was better dealt with sooner rather than later.
“No,” he replied evenly. “It was exactly as we expected.”
“Then they’re content leaving the matter in our hands?”
“They’re content leaving the matter in Father’s hands, who is leaving it in ours.” He frowned. “For the most part.”
I decided not to ask what he meant by that, not wanting to discuss his father during our idyll.
“And we can begin making arrangements for Miss Whitlock’s burial.”
I wondered if the Birnams would wish to manage that. Transferring her back to Scotland would be impossible, especially in the heat of summer, so she would undoubtedly be laid to rest here.
Emma was just beginning to venture out to the veranda when Jeffers returned with tea. She immediately reversed course, offering him a slobbery grin as she staggered toward him.
“Why, Miss Gage, you are walking steadier than when I saw you a week ago,” he declared as he set the tray down on the high table near the door, lest Emma be able to reach it and burn her fingers.
The slight curl at the corner of his lips, which was all the smile he allowed himself, told me he returned her regard.
“She’s quick, too,” Gage boasted like the proud father he was. “Almost too quick.”
I chuckled, rising to my feet to pour myself a cup of tea. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t wait until she could walk?”
“Yes,” he admitted with a grin, able to derive amusement from his own foibles.
“Ah, well, she needs to be quick,” Jeffers said with a chuckle. “One day it’ll be her chasing after her younger brothers and sisters rather than you.”
I smiled over the rim of my cup as I took my first sip, but inside my stomach did a little flip. If there were any younger brothers and sisters. I pushed the worrying thought away, refusing to dwell on it now.
Having been sufficiently admired, Emma veered toward the statue of a cat which was meant to be utilized as a doorstop. She bent over to pat its head. It was too heavy for her to tip over and too sturdy to be damaged by her hands.
Our mouser cat was smart enough not to allow himself to be caught by a fifteen-month-old, and he wasn’t really of a temperament suitable for children.
It made me miss Earl Grey, the cat I’d adopted from my brother’s home—or had he adopted me?
—and taken to my sister’s home in Edinburgh.
Where he had promptly ingratiated himself to my nieces and nephews, convincing them to sneak him food.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d been twice the size as when he’d shown up in my art studio, and none of the extra pounds were due to mice.
I’d hoped my sister might bring Earl Grey with them, but the extra weight had harmed his health. So he’d been left in the staff’s care at their town house in Edinburgh and placed on a strict diet of scraps. Without the children there to aid and abet him, Earl Grey would no doubt slim down rapidly.
“We heard about what happened at the hall,” Jeffers said, adding with a shake of his head, “what a tragedy.”
I’d expected word to carry here quickly from the main house, so this wasn’t a surprise. The staffs were friendly with one another and often traded gossip.
“Have you heard anything else?” Gage asked. Anything that might prove useful to us, was what he meant.
“Nothing that Miss McEvoy and Mr. Anderley haven’t already communicated with you, I’m sure. But I shall keep my ears pricked.”
With this, Jeffers departed, and I prepared Gage a cup of tea before settling back down beside him. I couldn’t help but shake my head in amusement as Emma plopped down in front of the cat statue and proceeded to pat its carved cheeks while she jabbered away.
“Perhaps we need a dog,” Gage proposed.
“A mild-mannered one,” I observed. The sounds of our daughter’s hand smacking the stone cat were audible. I winced, fearing she would hurt her hand, but her happy chattering never stopped.
Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, I thought Jeffers was returning to ask if we would like luncheon prepared. Instead, he was followed by five impatient individuals.
Jeffers cleared his throat. “You have callers.” His expression was aggrieved, clearly having realized we’d come here seeking a bit of respite, but also fully aware of my family members’ tendencies to barge in unannounced.
“Very good,” I said, letting him know that I understood.
“We’re here for that tour you promised,” Alana proclaimed, stepping forward. “And perhaps a bit of a confab,” she added with a glance over her shoulder at the others.
“I’ll bring more tea and sandwiches,” Jeffers announced before slipping away.
“Emma, love,” Alfie exclaimed. “What did that cat ever do to you?” He turned to his wife, muttering under his breath, “Our boys better learn quickly never to cross their cousin.”
Lorna rolled her eyes while Alfie grinned. He then sank down on his haunches to encourage Emma as she rose to her feet to toddle toward him, the statue all but forgotten.
Philip ushered my sister inside, allowing Trevor to enter the room behind him. I peered past my brother’s shoulder, hoping to see Matilda. He shook his head. The stoop of his shoulders and the sadness that glinted in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
I made room on the settee for Lorna while Alana settled in one of the armchairs.
Philip carried over two chairs from the table across the room so that everyone would have a seat.
Pleased as I was to see them and to have the opportunity to show them our new home, I couldn’t help but worry that the other guests couldn’t have failed to miss seven people leaving the manor.
“Have no fear,” my sister consoled me, evidently reading my mind. “We slipped away almost as unobtrusively as you did.” Her lips pursed in amusement, telling me that she must have caught sight of our stealthy antics. “We’ll return in pairs and trios, and none will be the wiser.”
“Now, update us on this inquiry,” Philip said, the cane-back chair he’d set beside his wife creaking as he settled deeper into it. “The inquest was this morning, was it not? And now there’s been an attempt on Birnam’s life.”
Gage and I shared a speaking look. One in which we silently conferred about how much to share. For while many hands made light work, it was also true that too many cooks spoiled the broth. And now I was jumbling together my proverbs. Maybe we truly did need help.