“No. It wasn’t.”
Pressing a hand to her stomach over her lavender morning dress, she tilted her head to study me. “Your uncle told me you sent for this investigator, Mr. Gage.”
I nodded. “Lord Buchan asked me to.”
“Well, hopefully he can get to the bottom of this nasty business.” Her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “And I suppose you mean to assist him.”
“If I can,” I answered demurely, though I had already determined there was no way I was going to let Gage or my uncle leave me out of the matter.
A warm smile spread across her face and crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I expected nothing less. You are Greer’s daughter after all.”
At the mention of my mother’s name, and the implication of her infamously stubborn nature, I couldn’t help but return my aunt’s smile with one of my own.
“Well, then, your uncle should be in his study, if you wish to speak with him. As for the other, I’m afraid, I have nothing to tell you. None of the guests mentioned anything out of the ordinary . . .” she frowned “. . . besides their superstitious nonsense.” She shook her head. “But you’re welcome to question those guests who stayed the night. And I can provide you with a copy of the guest list.”
“Thank you.”
She waved it aside. “It’s only common sense. If someone saw something, I would hope they would come forward of their own accord, but people are not always sensible about such matters, are they?”
I knew her question was rhetorical, so I did not reply.
“I’ll ask my staff if they saw anything, so that will be one less thing for you and Mr. Gage to do. But should you wish to question them yourself, just say the word.”
I was extremely grateful for my aunt’s practical nature. I knew from experience that most other ladies of the manor would have declared that the murder and grave robbing at Dryburgh Abbey had nothing to do with Clintmains Hall and refused to assist me. But then again, the damage had already been done last night when Willie stumbled in during the first-footing. What further harm could questioning a few guests or servants about what they’d seen cause?
In any case, I was more interested in returning to Dryburgh Abbey and the earl’s neighboring manor house. If anyone had seen anything suspicious, it was more likely to be one of Lord Buchan’s staff. After all, the grave robbers must have traveled in a carriage or on horseback. Perhaps someone had seen them coming or going.
I found my uncle in his study, just as my aunt had suggested. However, he wasn’t alone. My brother was seated before our uncle’s heavy oak desk, his brow furrowed in either fatigue or frustration, I couldn’t be certain which, maybe both.
When I informed them of my intentions, neither man spoke for a moment, leaving me perched awkwardly on the edge of my chair.
“Don’t you think it would be wiser to wait for Mr. Gage?” my uncle finally asked.
“I do not,” I replied, trying to keep the sharpness out of my tone. “I assure you, Mr. Gage would expect me to begin investigating immediately. Time is often of the essence. Evidence is lost. Witnesses change their stories. I need to return to the abbey and speak to Lord Buchan’s staff.”
Uncle Andrew glanced at Trevor and then sighed. “If you’re so determined, I cannot stop you. But I recommend taking your brother with you.”
“Of course,” I replied, having no intention of arguing. Trevor was intelligent. I was sure his presence would prove quite useful. In any case, I knew it would be wasted breath to protest. I could read the stubborn set to his chin. He was not going to allow me to investigate alone.
Uncle Andrew nodded in approval and explained his intentions to send out riders on the roads leading north toward Edinburgh and Glasgow—the likeliest directions the grave robbers had gone—to ask about the travelers who had stopped at the inns and pubs last night along those routes. Perhaps someone had noticed something unusual or could at least give us a description of a group or several pairs—for they may have split up—of men traveling together.
So while our coach was made ready, Trevor ate some breakfast and I gathered my cloak and gloves, having already dressed in a warm, deep blue serge gown borrowed from my aunt. Trevor was silent as we pulled out of Clintmains Hall’s drive and the carriage gathered speed on the road to Dryburgh Abbey, but I knew better than to think this would last. He may have held his tongue in our uncle’s study, but there was no reason for him to do so now that we were alone.
“Why are you doing this?”
I looked away from the window I had been staring out of at the weak winter sun to find him watching me with stern resolve.
“Doing what?”