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Sergeant Maclean arrived bright and early the following morning while we were still breaking our fasts.

I invited him to join us. Something, at first, he seemed reluctant to do.

Until a rasher of bacon was set before him.

Then he mumbled his thanks before applying himself to the meat and a couple of eggs.

Gage’s amused gaze met mine across the breakfast table, and I strove to hide my answering smile behind my cup of chocolate.

“If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” Maclean said after swallowing a drink of still-steaming coffee, “ye look much more the thing this morn, m’lady.”

“Yes,” I conceded with a light gasp of laughter as I set down my cup. “I can only imagine how peaked I still looked yesterday.” I’d certainly felt it. “But I’m feeling much recovered today.” Or at least my aches and twinges were more manageable.

I’d even allowed Bree to dress me in one of my more stylish plaid silk gowns with a white pelerine draped over the shoulders and upper gigot sleeves.

Though I despised the massive sleeves that were so en vogue , I could not escape them entirely and thus insisted they not be quite so expansive, nor the sleeve supports constructed of buckram and wire and filled with soft feathers tied beneath them be so large.

A wide carmine belt to match a shade in the plaid cinched in the silhouette at the waist before it expanded again in the full skirts.

Considering the number of calls we intended to make that day, several of which were to fashionable people, it behooved me to look the part of my station.

Gage also appeared to be in better health and was impeccably tailored, as usual, in a coat of midnight blue superfine and a waistcoat of cerulean laced with silver.

The color combination accented his pale winter blue eyes, making them appear even brighter than normal.

They shimmered now with a mixture of regard and relief.

“I’m glad tae hear it,” Maclean said as he tapped open his second egg before peeling it. “I took the liberty o’ sendin’ word tae Mr. Clerk that he should expect a call from us before nine.”

“He does seem like the type of gentleman who dislikes surprises,” Gage remarked as he sliced off a bite of sausage.

Maclean’s lips quirked cynically. “O’ course, that means he’s had time tae prepare. But at least this way ’tis harder for him tae turn us away.”

One could hope.

“And after Mr. Clerk?” I queried after taking another drink. “Where shall we go next? Do you know where Mr. Winstanley’s employees are staying while they’re in Edinburgh?”

Maclean named the White Horse Inn off Canongate. “But if ye’re thinkin’ o’ the Fletcher lad, I already spoke tae him. Thought it was best tae do so before the other assistant could warn ’im, and they could corroborate stories.”

I shouldn’t have felt a pulse of irritation. It was Maclean’s investigation, after all. He didn’t need to seek our permission to speak to a witness or suspect, and he certainly had a valid point about the timing. But I felt a flicker of annoyance all the same.

However, Gage appeared entirely unperturbed, stabbing a bite of kippers as he asked, “And what did he have to say?”

“He confirmed his colleague’s story. Seems they departed together the evenin’ before and arrived together that morn, and they share a room. So unless they’re in collusion or Mr. Rimmer slipped oot after Mr. Fletcher retired for the night, ’tis unlikely either o’ ’em is the culprit.”

“Could they be in collusion?”

Maclean scratched his chin, which sprouted dark stubble. “Aye, I suppose. Though ’twould indicate terrible plannin’ on their part. Mr. Fletcher’s face was bruised and battered, and ’twas obvious he was in some pain. And Mr. Rimmer barely escaped a similar fate.”

I had to admit, that did make them drop to the bottom of my suspect list, especially since we were unaware of a motive for either of them to sabotage that joist.

“Ye’re welcome tae call on ’im yerselves,” he continued.

“But keep in mind, he’s probably back at work today.

Said Mr. Winstanley ordered ’im tae take the day off yesterday because he kept havin’ dizzy spells and needin’ tae sit doon lest he drop somethin’ valuable.

Said as long as those had passed, he’d be expected back at Picardy Place. ”

This admission didn’t color the auctioneer in quite so favorable a light, but I supposed he was scrambling to salvage the collection and move the auction to a different location.

All the while, he was losing profits in added expenses.

Ones that the client might not have been expected to cover.

As such, he was relying greatly on his assistants.

Gage wiped his mouth with his serviette. “If you’re satisfied with Fletcher’s answers, then I have no further questions to put to him. At least for the moment.”

Maclean nodded, but his gaze shifted to me in consideration as he chewed his last slice of bacon, and I could tell he had something else to say.

My muscles tensed as I recalled how our falling-out the previous spring had begun much the same way.

Perhaps he’d found out about Bonnie Brock paying me a visit two days prior.

It was possible. Though I didn’t think Maclean could possibly know the content of our conversation.

Even so, such a discovery could cause complications to our reconciliation with the sergeant.

“Mr. Fletcher claimed his colleague is quite the admirer o’ yer art,” he finally stated, lifting his freshly filled cup of coffee by the brim, not the handle. “ Enamored is, I believe, the word he used.” His eyebrows arched over the cup as he took a drink.

I blushed at the implication, though I didn’t think Maclean meant to imply anything untoward.

“Yes, Mr. Rimmer was quite…” Gage narrowed his eyes as if searching for the appropriate word “… enthusiastic when he made her acquaintance on the second day of the auction.” Gage grinned at me. “With good reason.”

Maclean scrutinized my flushed cheeks and then Gage’s teasing expression before setting his cup down as he declared decisively, “If you’re no’ concerned by it, then neither am I.” He pushed back from the table but hesitated before rising. “Shall we?”

We climbed into our carriage to set off toward the small abode we’d been informed that Mr. Clerk lived in near the Custom House. As the steps were set by our footman, Gage asked if Maclean had made any other inquiries the previous afternoon.

“Only aboot this Mr. Innes that Mrs. Gage and Mr. Sullivan mentioned. Took most o’ the afternoon to track down his location. I’d like tae pay him a visit.”

Gage nodded, glancing at me in silent comradery. “We also wondered if you’d considered Lord Eldin’s past as a motive. Perhaps something that occurred during his time as a judge.”

Maclean crossed his arms, the gray fabric of his coat straining over his burly shoulders. “Ye mean like a criminal oot for revenge? Maybe someone recently released.”

“Or a disgruntled plaintiff. One he didn’t rule in favor of.”

Maclean grunted. “?’Tis worth considerin’.

” He turned his head to peer out the window at the sunshine peeking through the scattered cover of clouds and shining down on the trees beginning to bud in Queen Street Gardens.

“I’ll speak tae my superintendent. ’Twill likely require him tae intercede at the Court o’ Session if we hope tae gain any information or access any o’ their records. ”

Had I not been looking directly at a pair of horse chestnut trees abutting the five-foot-high rod iron fence surrounding the western garden, I was certain I would never have seen Bonnie Brock standing in the shadow of one of the trunks, watching our carriage pass by.

Such was his stillness, the shades of his clothing blending with his surroundings, that it would have been easy to overlook him.

At least, I hoped so. I cast a wary glance over Maclean’s face, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts and all but oblivious to the world passing by outside the window.

I could only be glad of that. Though I did wonder why Bonnie Brock was lurking so close to our home.

He’d seen that I was well and delivered his warning. What more did he want?

It was a valid question. For Bonnie Brock kept a tally of favors, and if you were in his debt, he expected to be repaid.

After the events of last spring, I thought we were even.

He might have rescued us from the vaults, but we’d been there in the first place because of him.

However, he had then sought out the men in the rival gang that had attacked us and recovered my mother’s amethyst pendant, which they’d stolen from me.

Perhaps he believed that placed me in his debt.

I would argue not, given the fact the retrieval had only been secondary to his desire for retribution against those men, but that didn’t mean he saw it the same way. He was nothing if not contrary.

Much like Bree. I knew she was concerned about Anderley venturing out in disguise, as he had the previous evening, searching out the pub where the auctioneer’s employees congregated after hours.

The same place they were lodging, as it turned out.

The fact she’d adopted a breezy, indifferent attitude to his new escapade did not fool me.

Not when I could sense the tension in her frame and hear how her words were clipped at the end.