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“Yes, but perhaps their ultimate goal wasn’t to obtain them illicitly, but rather to discredit Mr. Winstanley’s firm.

To weaken his legal standing and cast doubt on Lord Eldin’s will being of sound judgment.

” My skepticism must have been evident, for Mr. Rimmer grimaced.

“I didn’t say it was rational, simply something worth keeping in mind when you speak to Mr. Clerk. ”

The sound of Gage’s and Sergeant Maclean’s voices raised in conference reached our ears, and Mr. Rimmer excused himself, nodding to the two men as he waited for them to enter the room before he left.

My husband looked to me in question, but I shook my head, indicating that what Mr. Rimmer had shared with me could wait for later.

“Were any of the locks picked?” I asked instead, curious about their findings.

Gage propped his hands on his hips, glancing mindfully at the constables still listening. “It’s difficult to say.”

But Maclean seemed to have no qualms about his men overhearing.

“There are any number o’ scratches and small gouges on each o’ the doors near the locks, especially the door at the rear o’ the house, but none that tell us whether ’twas from the lock bein’ forced rather than the normal wear and tear on such a mechanism from clumsy fingers. ”

“If it was picked, it was done skillfully,” my husband concluded.

I could tell he was dissatisfied with this fact, but there was nothing more to be done. “And the gardener’s shed?”

Maclean rubbed his jaw. “Aye. Holds a ladder. But it doesna appear tae have been moved in some time.”

Gage concurred. “Not in the last week, in any case.”

I gathered up my things, including my tattered copy of the auction catalog. “Then the cut must have been made by a strong man.”

At least that was something. Though it didn’t rule out as many suspects as we might have liked given the fact any number of them could have been working with a burly accomplice.

“You need to return home for Emma,” Gage said, observing my movements. It was more of a statement than a question, for he must have realized it was time I saw to our daughter’s needs. Past time, in fact, if the familiar heaviness in my chest was any indication.

“I ken you’re both still recoverin’ from yer ordeal,” Maclean stated with a side-eyed look in my direction.

The initial excitement of his revelation about the joist having long subsided, I’d been struggling not to reveal the growing discomfort and fatigue dragging at my body, making each step more tiring than the last. Evidently, this effort had been unsuccessful, and my increasingly haggard appearance was the reason the sergeant would no longer meet my eye.

It was that or Gage’s veiled reference to my breastfeeding our daughter.

But Maclean had several children of his own, and he and his wife were not of the class that might have passed off their infants to a nursemaid.

Given this, it seemed doubtful he was squeamish about such a necessity of life, and if he ever had been, from what I’d heard about his wife, she wouldn’t have allowed such nonsense for long.

He tugged down on the belt covering his gray greatcoat. “So I’ll call on ye in the morn, and we can confer then.”

Gage agreed. “In the meantime, I’d like permission to speak with some of the trusted members of our staff. As I’m sure you’re aware, they often assist us with our inquiries and have proved to be invaluable and discreet. They may be able to help in ways we can’t.”

Maclean’s jaw worked as he considered his request. “Often ’tis the servants who ken all the best gossip, isna’ that right?”

The old adage was often quoted for a reason.

He nodded. “Aye. Just be sure they step wi’ care.”

· · ·

Following luncheon, Gage swiftly informed Bree, Anderley, Jeffers, and Mrs. Mackay about the revelations and discoveries made that morning while I nursed Emma and put her down for her nap. The nanny looked to me in silent query as I joined them all in the library.

“She’s asleep,” I murmured to her even as Gage continued addressing a question put to him by his valet.

Truth be told, Emma had fallen asleep a quarter of an hour ago, but I’d lingered, wanting to gaze down at her precious slumbering face and smell her sweet baby scent.

Time was passing too fast, and soon my darling girl would be one.

I wanted to capture these moments and seal them in my memory before it was too late.

“I left the door to the nursery ajar, so we’ll be able to hear her when she wakes,” I added, and Mrs. Mackay nodded, turning back to my husband.

My gaze drifted from face to face, curious how they’d taken the news.

Jeffers sat tall and straight to my left in a ladder-back chair that had been dragged over from the table near the window, his expression as placid and proper as ever except the liveliness of his eyes, taking everything in.

Bree perched opposite me on the matching sofa, her hands clasped, and her mouth crimped as if she was still trying to reconcile everything she’d heard.

Next to her, Anderley listened avidly to what Gage had to say, leaning slightly toward him, as if ready to spring up at his first request. Gage had claimed the single wingback armchair.

The same chair I’d painted Philipa having fallen asleep in for the portrait above the hearth.

Though his voice and movements were animated, I noted how his left arm remained at his side, telling me it still twinged enough not to be used normally.

Of those gathered, only Lettuce Mackay—sitting beside me—seemed entirely unmoved, but then it took a great deal to rattle her.

She was the oldest person present, and I wondered if her unflappable nature was born of experience and the travails of her position.

After all, she had worked as a nursery maid and nanny for nigh on fifty years, raising multiple generations of children for wealthy families throughout Scotland.

I had come to rely on her steadiness and confidence, sometimes feeling I was in her charge as much as Emma was.

My sister had initially expressed some concern about our nanny’s age when she’d learned whom I’d hired, but I had known from the instant we’d met Mrs. Mackay that she was the right woman for the job.

She might have been well past sixty, with wrinkles and gently sagging skin and silver hair tucked beneath her cap, but she brimmed with energy, and she’d expressed a desire to travel, to see other parts of Britain and possibly Europe, which complemented our household’s somewhat nomadic existence.

Most of the women we’d interviewed had not seemed enthused by this notion, believing they would remain in Edinburgh or a country house with their charges while we ventured about as we wished.

I understood this was the way many aristocratic families operated, as often the parents had very little to do with the raising of their offspring, but I had no intention of leaving my children behind.

So Mrs. Mackay’s desire for adventure coupled with her experience had seemed a godsend.

I’d not regretted for one moment hiring her.

Having finished his response to Anderley, Gage turned to me, letting me know that everyone was now on the same page.

“We will have to proceed with care,” Gage informed us all.

“While Sergeant Maclean has requested our assistance, he is adamant that the truth about the joist not become public knowledge. At least, not until there is a better grasp of the matter and the motives and players involved. He wishes to stave off any panic.”

“But…I still dinna understand.” Bree’s brow was knitted with concern. “They’re certain ’twasn’t an accident?”

“Well…” Gage’s gaze met mine, and I could tell he was recalling how he’d assured her of the exact opposite just two days prior.

“We didn’t get a chance to examine the joist with our own eyes as the chamber’s ceiling had been deemed too unsteady for further exploration until it has been shored up, but they had a number of experts scrutinize the matter, and it was they who brought it to the city police’s attention.

” One corner of his mouth curled wryly. “And I feel quite confident in stating that Sergeant Maclean would not have brought the matter to our attention if he wasn’t absolutely sure. ”

“Aye, but…it doesna make sense,” Bree insisted with a shake of her head. “Why would someone cause a floor tae collapse under a hundred people just tae kill one man? Seems a foolish…” her eyes darted to me “…and reckless way tae go aboot it. Why, he might o’ killed dozens o’ people!”

“Yes, but we don’t know that Mr. Smith was the target,” Anderley pointed out. “In fact, it seems doubtful he was. Unless the killer was tremendously lucky.”

“No, I agree.” Gage leaned to the side, propping his chin in his right hand.

“The notion that the one person who was killed was the one intended to be seems all but impossible. Particularly as nothing we’ve learned thus far about this Mr. Smith draws suspicion.

” He looked to Jeffers. “Unless you’ve uncovered something? ”

“From everything I’ve been able to glean, Mr. Smith was an upstanding citizen, well loved by his family and his clients. But I can continue to gather information.”

Gage nodded. “Yes, do. Discreetly. We don’t want to cause his family any more pain than necessary if he was merely an innocent bystander.” He turned to me. “Though we should still speak to this Mr. Innes fellow he argued with to see what he knows.”

“But Bree’s point is still valid,” I argued, having seen her mouth clamp in frustration. “It was a foolish and reckless plan to sabotage the joist if their intended victim was but one person. There are dozens of more effective ways to go about it.”

“Then perhaps there wasna’ just one intended victim,” Mrs. Mackay said. “Maybe their reasons for committin’ such a scurrilous act were broader.”