“I’m sorry. I did not mean to remind you of all you have lost.”
The edge of his mouth curved. “In a way, it’s been a blessing. Not the part about my father, mind you, but rather being forced to make my own way in the world. Inheriting wealth is easy – accumulating it on your own, that’s something to be admired.”
“So you respect the working class?”
“I respect anyone who can improve their situation through honest means.” Marcus stretched out his legs and leaned back against his own corner. “That’s not to say every tradesman or laborer deserves respect, but then again, neither does every peer. If I’ve learnt anything in recent years, it’s that even those who walk among us as if they’re beyond reproach can be guilty of horrible crimes.”
“You refer to your father?”
“Who else? Unlike Blayne who killed his father by accident while attempting to save his mother, my father went to Windham House with every intention of killing the duke. Most of the staff was at church that day, but an unfortunate maid perished too. Guthrie himself barely escaped after my father set the place ablaze in an effort to cover up what he’d done.”
“I can’t even fathom such cruelty.”
“Of course you can’t, because you’re a good and decent person.”
“A good and decent person who’d like to run Blayne’s uncle through with a sword.”
Marcus grinned. “There’s nothing wrong with having bloodthirsty thoughts as long as you don’t follow through on them.”
“Of course.” Charlotte bit her lip while contemplating their journey and the goal they hoped to accomplish. They would soon have to stop for the night. After that, they would have three more days of travel before they reached their destination. “I do hope Blayne’s mother is still alive.”
“There’s no guarantee after nearly twenty years, but let’s stay positive.”
“Right now, the one thing working in our favor is surprise. Seamus doesn’t know we’re coming or that we plan on defending Blayne.” After arguing back and forth with Guthrie, Charlotte had eventually accepted the funds he’d provided for legal representation. As he’d pointed out, now was not the time to be prideful. Of course, he’d been completely correct.
“I’m thinking Seamus will be living at the family home,” Charlotte said when they stopped four days later on the city’s outskirts. Due to their late departure from London, it had taken them one day longer than she’d have liked to reach their destination. Stretching her legs while trying to gather her thoughts in preparation for battle, Charlotte paced about while Marcus leaned one shoulder against a nearby tree. “According to Guthrie’s account of what happened, he lived there when the incident took place, so it makes sense for him to still be in residence.”
“Unless he was merely visiting. Or the house has since been sold. Or—”
“Yes, yes, there are other alternatives, of course. I just don’t want to show up and come face to face with him, that’s all.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“According to what I know, Stockbridge is the most affluent neighborhood – Edinburgh’s Mayfair, if you like. My intention is, therefore, to knock on doors and make inquiries until I learn where Mrs. Callanach might be residing. If gossip works as effectively here as it does in London, the information shouldn’t be too hard to come by.”
What Charlotte did not count on was being turned away the moment she mentioned Mrs. Callanach’s name. Nobody cared who Charlotte was or why she had come. As soon as she made her inquiry, gazes grew shuttered and she was promptly asked to leave. She never even made it past the butlers.
“This is so frustrating,” she muttered when she returned to the carriage after her fifth attempt.
“You mustn’t lose hope, miss.” Daisy’s voice had that soothing softness intended to reassure, but it didn’t quite work.
“I think a change of strategy is in order,” Marcus said. “Surely there must be a place nearby where we can happen upon a few ladies and gentlemen who aren’t being so ferociously guarded?”
“A park would be perfect.” Charlotte glanced around, then went to address their coachman. “You’ve been to Edinburgh before. Any idea if there’s a park somewhere nearby where the upper-class might go for strolls?”
“Mr. Guthrie and his wife visited the Royal Botanical Garden when they were last here.”
“Excellent. Please take us there.”
Ten minutes later the carriage pulled up next to the pavement, and Marcus jumped out so he could help Charlotte alight. Arm in arm, they entered the garden and proceeded along one of the pathways while Daisy followed behind.
“I almost wish we were here for leisure,” Charlotte said when they’d walked for a while. “There are so many wonderful plants and flowers, it would be lovely if we could take our time to enjoy them.”
“Maybe you can return here with Blayne before heading back to London?”
“Now there’s an idea worth hoping for,” Charlotte agreed. “Come, I think we’ll try approaching that couple over there. Excuse me! I’m sorry to trouble you on your walk, but I’m hoping you might be able to help us.”
The couple, a lady who looked to be in her fifties and a gentleman who appeared slightly older, stopped and turned more fully in Charlotte and Marcus’s direction.
“Yes?” the gentleman inquired.
“We’ve travelled here from London and aren’t too familiar with the area, so we’d be most obliged if you could lend your assistance with some directions.” Charlotte added a smile and prayed the couple would not be as standoffish as the butlers she’d met with earlier.
“Certainly, Mrs..?” the gentleman inquired.
“Miss Russell,” Charlotte supplied. When the gentleman frowned Charlotte decided a lie might serve her best, so she hastily added, “And this is my brother-in-law, Mr. Davies, who has been kind enough to accompany me on this journey. My mother is unwell, you see, and has tasked me with finding a long lost friend of hers.”
“Indeed.” The gentleman’s expression eased a little. “And who might ye be seeking?”
Charlotte took a deep breath and prayed for success. “Mrs. Shannon Callanach.”
Every muscle in the gentleman’s face grew taut. “Her name isn’t spoken in polite Society, Miss Russell. Not after her lover and husband were both murdered by her son. She’s an outcast and ye’d do well to tell yer poor mother she’d best forget all about her. Good day.”
“But I’ve a message for her I have sworn I’d deliver.”
The gentleman huffed a breath. Pity shone in his wife’s eyes.
“Surely there’s no harm in telling them where they can find her?” the lady gently suggested.
“Fine,” her husband grumbled. “Last I heard, Mrs. Callanach was living in a modest townhouse on George Street. That’s all I know.”
“I trust then that her brother-in-law resides at Callanach House?” Marcus asked.
The gentleman snorted. “Aye. That man could not become the lord of the manor fast enough. Never met a more arrogant fellow in all my life. I didnae care for his brother either, but that doesnae mean he deserved to be bludgeoned to death. Now, if ye’ll both excuse us, we’d like to continue our walk.”