The only expertise he had, besides his airships, was growing tobacco. The Lords Fairfax had not cultivated any arable land for decades. Instead, they farmed endless, undulating masses of sheep. He didn’t know a damn thing about sheep, and now he was expected to know about carpets?
“Is my wife not prepared to answer some of these questions?” he asked. “Especially questions to do with the house itself?”
Ralston looked discomfited by the question. “I would be more than happy to appeal to Her Ladyship, Your Lordship,” Ralston said. “However, she is not here. She left a few hours ago.”
He turned and faced the older man. “What do you mean, she left? Where did she go?”
“I’m afraid I have no idea, Your Lordship,” Ralston said.
Whenever Ralston was embarrassed, or uncomfortable, he repeated Montgomery’s title excessively, a trait Montgomery had noticed over the past several weeks.
“Begging your pardon, Your Lordship.”
He turned. The smith stood there, pulling off his cap. He was young, tall, with well-developed arm and shoulder muscles, a sparse beard, and wildly bushy sideburns. Montgomery had him working on rebuilding part of the burner damaged in the accident.
“They’ve gone to Kilmarin, Your Lordship,” the man said. “Elspeth and Her Ladyship, that is. Her Ladyship promised Elspeth she’d have a chance to see her family.”
Ralston stepped forward, and whispered, “Elspeth’s husband, Your Lordship.”
“Where the hell is Kilmarin, and why would my wife be going there?”
Ralston answered before Elspeth’s husband could. “I know where it is, Your Lordship,” he said. “South, near Perth.”
Montgomery addressed the young man. “Do you know why they’ve gone?”
The man twisted his cap between his hands. “Elspeth didn’t say, sir, but then she wouldn’t. Loyal as the day is long, she is. All I know is they’re taking the train in Inverness.”
“How long ago did they leave?” he asked.
“A few hours ago now, Your Lordship.”
“Did she tell you when they’re returning?”
“Elspeth didn’t know, sir.”
Anger was not an unfamiliar emotion. The rage sweeping through him, however, surprised him with its intensity and suddenness. For some unknown reason, she’d taken her maid, his carriage, and left him.
Perhaps she’d tried to kill him after all. What reason would she have, otherwise, for leaving so peremptorily?
Guilt? He’d accused her of wanting him dead, and instead of remaining there, she went haring off to Perth.
She wasn’t going to leave him that easily.
He slapped his hands down on the worktable, annoyed at Veronica, at himself, at the entire situation.
His airship was damaged, perhaps beyond repair. He had the original balloon, but he’d cannibalized parts from it. He’d damn well have to follow her in a carriage.
He motioned to Elspeth’s husband.
“Come with me,” he said, striding toward the door.
Damn it, if Veronica wanted him dead, she’d just have to tell him to his face.
Less than a quarter hour later, Montgomery was in the stable, his inquiry whether another carriage was available being met with an incredulous look from the stablemaster.
“We’ve three carriages, Your Lordship. The fourth is being refurbished, but the upholstery is nearly done.”
“I only need one,” he said, giving instructions to the coachman before he and Robbie entered the carriage.
