Page 59 of A Fearless Heart
Chapter 21
Gabe watched Cady carefully asshe absorbed the news. Her eyes went round, and her breathing, already oddly fast, shallowed.
“No, it can’t be,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not possible.” She wavered on her feet, and Gabe lunged forward to catch her arm to steady her.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
He was getting used to telling Cady the truth. Thanks to her serum or whatever it was, he’d spilled far more than he ever intended and then went and made it worse by indulging in one of the most arousing encounters he’d ever had with his clothes still on. Yes, he’d instigated the seduction as a way to divert her attention and to keep her under his influence. But it had quickly spiraled into outright lust. He couldn’t believe how strong his reactions to her got, and how much he wanted her. He actually told her what he was thinking, which was something Gabe never did. With anyone. About anything.
He didn’t even want to tell people how he liked his eggs cooked, because an enemy agent might use it against him. And there he was telling Cady how much she aroused him. When he had a moment, he needed to find out more about what she put in his tea.
When the message arrived in the post, Gabe had assumed it was another scrap of information, or possibly just a curt instruction from Aries to stop wasting time at Calderwood and steal something worth knowing.
Instead, it was a punch to the gut. Another death, another failure by the Zodiac to stop the killings. His failure, because it was his assignment now.
And Cady was involved too, somehow, even if it wasn’t the way he’d first assumed.
“The murder took place two days ago,” he explained. “My connections sent word as soon as the doctor performed the test that confirmed the poison.”
“Who was this man?” she asked. “Another friend of yours?”
“No, but that doesn’t matter. This can’t continue.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Come to my workroom and we’ll go over everything you know.” Cady suddenly straightened up. “I just remembered something. I subscribe to several journals of botany and chemistry. Perhaps one of them has an article on clephobine, or a mention of who has been experimenting with it. We all correspond with one another, and when someone is successful at synthesizing a tricky chemical, they can’t resist bragging about it. All in the name of reporting new advances, of course.”
“What will you tell the others? What’s the reason for my joining you in your workroom this time?”
Cady just shook her head. “No one will see you at all. You’ll be using the passageway to the glasshouse. Here’s the key to the door you go in, and I’ll make sure the glasshouse door is unlocked.”
She hurried off, leaving Gabe to stare at her retreating figure. She was offering to help him? Why?
To clear her own name, you dolt, he told himself. Cady was already ostracized by the locals, who were quite content to spread malicious rumors for their own entertainment. Because Cady was just a woman—though a well-off one—she had very little ability to fight back. If her other world of botanists and gardeners and chemists also decided to shun her, she’d be completely alone.
So she had just as much reason to find the real killer as he did. Possibly more.
Not long after, Gabe made his way to Cady’s workroom. She’d already pulled several issues of journals that she declared likely to have information.
“Here’s the issue of theProceedings of the British Horticultural Societywhere I described receiving and planting the specimen, and my plans to use the berries to create clephobine. And here are three letters I got in response. One from a French botanist who wanted to know what process I’d use for synthesizing the chemical, one from a Scottish gardener who asked if I thought she’d have any luck growing it as far north as Glasgow—I replied with my doubts—and then one from someone on the staff of the Royal Gardens, asking me to send any illustrations of it. In retrospect, that was a clue theirs had died.”
Gabe made notes of all that, disappointed that none of the interested parties looked very likely as killers. “Very well. Looks like we’ll have to comb through more of these.”
It took a few hours of steady skimming and back-and-forth questions. Cady proved to have an excellent memory once he nudged it with a name or a phrase from part he was reading. But all the results were negative.
Once, there was a knock at the workroom door, and Gabe had to move fast to get out of the sightline before Martha walked in with a message.
“Mr Pollack has sent a note around, my lady. He says he regrets that he’ll not be able to call upon you this Thursday.”
“Good,” Cady muttered in response. “I don’t recall asking him in the first place. Though I suppose Mrs Bowcott will visit, with one of her flighty friends in tow. Tell Cook to only make the treacle tarts. I am not wasting the last of my citrus.”
“Very good, my lady. Oh, Mr Addison sent a note too. He’s got some new specimen for you and wants to come round in the next day or two when convenient.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Cady’s voice warmed, and from his hiding spot, Gabe got vaguely annoyed. “I’ll send a reply to him this afternoon. And can you bring a very big tray of food here for lunch? I’ve got an appetite today.”
“Yes, my lady!” Martha sounded so pleased, and Gabe almost felt sorry for her, knowing that Cady only intended to conceal the fact that the tray would be serving two people.
