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“Annis…” Sarah says, coming up to us with a sigh.
“Tell me I am wrong,” Annis says to me.
“You are wrong,” I say. “It is not merely the skirts, but also the corset and boots.”
“Which you have worn all your adult life, have you not?” Annis gives me a look far too intense for comfort.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like them,” I mutter.
“Miss Mitchell has not been wearing them nearly as long as we have,” Sarah says. “Being young, she has come comparatively recently to such encumbrances. Oh, it looks as if Duncan has caught the fellow.”
I hike up my skirts and take off out the door. Sarah’s right. Gray is holding a man up against the stable wall.
I zip out to join them as Gray demands to know what the man was doing. The man sputters some excuse and then another until Annis walks by, heading to the coach with Sarah. Once she’s past, she calls over her shoulder.
“He is a member of the press, dear brother.”
“I know that,” Gray says. “The ink stains give it away. As does the printer dust on his trousers. I did not ask who he was, but what he was doing.”
“Spying on you, obviously,” Annis says.
“On me?” Gray glances over at her.
“Hmm, no. You are correct. He could be spying on me.” She walks back and uses her umbrella to chuck the man under the chin. “Am I your prey, dear boy? If so, I might suggest that is a dangerous game to play with an alleged murderess.”
“Annis!” Sarah says.
“I did not murder my husband, boy. I would have too little to gain and too much to lose. Simple common sense, really. Duncan, please put the man down, though you have my permission to grab him again if he tries to run. He has gone to great lengths to win an interview, and so I shall grant it.”
“Actually…” the man says as Gray lowers him to the ground. “I was…” His gaze shunts to the house. “Your sister is a chemist, is she not? A chemist whose sister has been accused of using poison?”
Gray stiffens, but Annis only laughs. “A chemist? She is a woman. How ever would she be a chemist? That is nearly as poor an excuse as saying you are here for me. Obviously you have come to spy on my brother here, Dr. Duncan Gray, who is investigating the murder of my husband.”
Gray clears his throat. “I am not—”
“He is humble,” Annis says. “It is his worst failing. One of them at least. He is also stubborn and overly curious.” She looks at the reporter and snaps, “Are you writing this down?”
“Er, yes.” He pulls out a notebook and pencil.
“No, Annis,” Gray says. “He is not writing anything down. Lady Leslie is joking, of course. The police are the ones investigating—”
“That would be Detective McCreadie, who is my brother’s childhood friend. A most winning fellow. Quite clever for one so handsome. The two rarely coincide, sadly. Detective McCreadie is very good at his job. Good enough to enlist the services of my brilliant brother.”
Gray clears his throat. “Annis—”
“Did I mention he is overly humble? My brother is a master of detection, who quietly aids the police through his scientific investigation. Have you heard of the Duke Street case? That was Duncan’s work. As was the—”
“Annis,” Gray says more sharply. “Those cases were solved by the good men of the Edinburgh police.”
“With your scientific help, and the city deserves to know that.” She looks at the reporter. “I am blessed to have such a team working on my behalf. A brilliant scientist, a clever detective and…” She peers at me. “What are you again?”
“A housemaid.”
She waves at me. “Speaking of clever, does she not easily pass for a pretty housemaid? You would hardly guess her true identity, would you?”
“Wonder Woman, I hope,” I mutter under my breath. “Or at least Nancy Drew.”
“She is my brother’s assistant,” she says. “A budding scientist and detective, who would play the role of housemaid far better if she learned not to mutter under her breath and glare daggers at her social betters.”
