Page 11

Chapter

Ten

A SCANDAL brEWING

I rose at dawn, though calling it sleep would have been generous. I’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows creep and shift, while the terrible events of the evening replayed themselves like a grim pantomime.

Tilly arrived promptly at eight with a set of fresh clothes. She found me already bathed and pacing. It took only a few minutes for her to wrestle me into a suitable gown—an achievement, considering I could hardly stand still.

She had just fastened the final buttons when raised voices shattered the early quiet.

“Oh, miss!” Tilly gasped, her reflection in the mirror wide-eyed with alarm.

“I must go!” I wrenched free.

“Wait, milady, just one more?—”

I was already halfway to the door, propriety trailing in my wake.

I followed the shouting to Julia’s morning room, stopping short at the sight that greeted me.

Charles Walsh, pale and wiry by nature, was now flushed red with fury, hands clenched at his sides as he spat venom at Julia.

“You take me for a fool?” he shouted, voice cracking. “A child, to be lied to at every turn? I see it clearly—you and your precious Nicky Thornburn conspired to rid yourselves of my father.”

The accusation struck like a slap. For one awful moment, I stood frozen, stunned that anyone—least of all Charles—could accuse Julia of murder. His face, twisted with rage and grief, held no hint of doubt.

"Lower your voice, Charles," came a calmer tone behind him. Edwin Heller, Charles’s cousin and seemingly peacemaker, stepped forward, his hand resting gently on Charles’s shoulder. "You must calm yourself," he said, voice placating.

"Don’t patronize me!" Charles snarled, though he didn’t shake him off. "I will not be silent while my father's killer stands there feigning grief!" He thrust a trembling finger toward Julia.

Julia rose slowly to her feet, her hands shaking, her voice low but fierce. "You speak as if you never knew me at all. Your father's death wounds me deeply. I would never harm him or you."

Her words barely touched Charles. His laugh was a bitter, broken sound. "You call it foolishness? I think not. I’ve seen the way you and Thornburn look at each other. You never loved my father. You never loved me. You used us both for convenience. And now that he’s dead, you expect sympathy?"

Julia’s face, always so composed, crumpled slightly. But then, she drew herself up with the last shreds of dignity.

"I was faithful," she said, voice trembling but unyielding. "I gave everything I had to this family. I may not have given him a child while he was alive,” she paused, her hand fluttering over her abdomen, “but now, by the grace of God, I carry one."

The room went deathly still.

Good heavens ! Julia was increasing.

Charles’s face contorted with fury. “You’re with child?" he spat. "I refuse to believe it’s my father’s. Everyone knows about your association with Thornburn. How convenient that after years of barrenness, you suddenly find yourself expecting.”

The accusation sliced through the air like a blade. This had gone too far. I stepped forward, inserting myself between them.

"Charles," I said, keeping my voice even, "please. We are all grieving. Let cooler heads prevail."

He turned his haunted eyes toward me. "Lady Rosalynd," he rasped. "Forgive me that you must witness such ugliness. But I cannot, will not, watch my father’s murderer wear a widow’s weeds without speaking the truth."

Before Julia could reply, Charles stormed from the room, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the windows. Edwin threw me a helpless look, then hurried after him.

Julia collapsed onto a chaise, burying her face in her hands.

I approached slowly, kneeling beside her. "Julia," I said gently, "are you all right?"

A foolish question. Of course, she wasn’t.

She lifted her tear-streaked face. "I loved him, Rosalynd," she whispered. "I loved my husband. We had our trials. What marriage does not? But I never betrayed him. And now ... now I'm left with vile accusations and nothing to defend myself but my word."

I sat beside her, unsure which hurt more: hearing her pain, or realizing that no matter what I believed, the world would believe what it wanted.

After a moment, I asked cautiously, "Charles mentioned Nicky Thornburn. He said there was an attachment between you."

Julia’s eyes widened, mortification and indignation warring across her face. "We are friends,” she said fiercely. "Nothing more. I found him agreeable, yes. But I never betrayed my marriage vows."

Her words rang with conviction. But still, I recalled the way she and Nicky had looked at each other. Friendship? Perhaps. But friendship does not burn quite so brightly in the eyes.

"And yet," I said delicately, "after years of marriage, you are now increasing.”

Color crept up Julia’s neck. "It is a miracle," she whispered. "A miracle I never thought I’d know. Think what you will, Rosalynd, but trust me. This child I carry is my husband’s."

Trust . Such a simple word. Such a heavy burden.

I squeezed her trembling hands. "Charles believes what he wants to believe. But we …” I steadied my voice. "We will uncover the truth."

She nodded, grateful tears slipping free.

But in my heart, doubts gnawed at the edges. If society turned against Julia, they would turn against Nicky too. And if Inspector Dodson had even an inkling of these rumors …

I came to my feet. "Julia, I must go for a short time. You are to rest. No visitors, no callers."

"There will be callers," she said miserably. "They'll come sniffing for gossip like vultures."

"Let them peck elsewhere. I’ll leave orders. No one is to be admitted."

I rang for her maid, issued strict instructions, and told the butler the same.

Only when I was certain Julia would be kept safe did I allow a footman to hail a hackney.

The drive to Steele House didn’t take long. But even so, my mind churned the whole way.

Upon my arrival, Steele’s butler ushered me into a stately sitting room. Steele did not keep me waiting long. He entered looking immaculate, controlled, and … faintly wary.

"Lady Rosalynd," he said. “I expected a note, but not you in person. Has something happened?"

I rose. "Indeed, it has."

I told him about Charles's accusations, Julia’s pregnancy, and the ugly web of suspicion tightening around our families.

His jaw tightened. "Nicky would never seduce a married woman," he said flatly.

"Perhaps not," I said. "But rumor cares little for truth."

Steele raked a hand through his dark hair. "This will spread."

"It already has," I said grimly. "And unless we act, it will consume them both."

He paced a few steps, thinking. When he turned back, the steel in his expression matched his name. "We must take matters into our own hands."

I stared. "You mean investigate Walsh’s murder?”

"Exactly."

For a moment, I could only blink. An investigation would mire us in a scandal. It was madness to involve ourselves in such an endeavor.

And yet.

"If we leave it to Dodson," Steele continued, "they’ll be railroaded before the week is out. He cares for expediency, not truth."

"You know him?" I asked.

"All too well," Steele said grimly. “Several years ago, he was placed in charge of an embezzlement investigation. All evidence pointed to a young accountant, someone I knew. He was innocent. I was sure of it. But that didn’t stop Dodson from clapping him in irons. By the time I discovered the true thief, the young gentleman was dead. Devastated by the shame the accusation brought to his family, he hanged himself.”

“Oh, dear heaven. I’m so sorry.”

“I took steps to have Dodson demoted. At the hearing, I argued that he should have conducted a more thorough investigation. But it proved to no avail. He was allowed to keep his rank, as there had been more than enough evidence to charge the accountant. The thing of it was if Dodson had been more diligent, he would have realized the documents had been forged by the young accountant’s superior. But with Scotland Yard resources stretched as thin as they were, there was no time, or inclination, to do so.”

“Dodson strikes me as a man who wants a quick solution to this murder.”

“He is. And Lady Walsh and my brother are easy targets.”

A sense of dread roiled through me. “We must be cautious,” I said slowly. “If word spreads that we are interfering, it could look like we are trying to hide their guilt. We might hurt more than help.”

“That is a risk,” he allowed. “But consider the alternative. If we do nothing, the law may very well claim them both, whether they are guilty or not. We must not let that happen.”

By the time he finished, my resolve had hardened into iron. “You’re right. We must do this,” I said. "For Julia. And for your brother."

He gave a firm nod of approval. “We’ll need to keep in close contact so we can compare notes as needed. There is much to be examined. For starters, I need to find out where Nicky was that night. He arrived late at the ball.”

“And we’ll need to find out what Walsh was doing in Spitalfields.”

He flicked a hand in dismissal. “He was visiting his mistress.”

“What?”

“I managed to pry that information out of Dodson while you were attending to your cousin. Apparently, Walsh had a twice-weekly rendezvous with her.”

“The dastard! How dare he?”

He glanced toward me. “Did your cousin know?”

“Of course not. She would have mentioned it.”

“Would she?” His hard stare questioned.

“Maybe not,” I conceded. I would need to find out.

“Find out what she knows about Walsh’s dealings. What acquaintances did he have? Did she hear anything that would provide a clue? Once you’ve talked to her, we can arrange a meeting.”

A thought occurred to me. “How do we do that without attracting attention? We’ll open ourselves to gossip if we spend any time alone. We have enough trouble with the rumors swirling around Julia and Lord Nicholas.”

A faint smile curved Steele’s lips. “This is London society, Lady Rosalynd. People talk if a lady takes a stroll without her chaperone. But don’t worry. I’ll arrange for a private meeting place. You won’t be caught out.”

“It’s not me I worry about, but Chrissie. This is her debut season. It would be ruined if I embroiled myself in a scandal.”

“It’ll be a place no one knows in an area no one is likely to visit. I’ll send a note to Rosehaven House as soon as I’ve made the arrangements. Is that agreeable to you?”

“It has to be. There really is no other choice. Julia and I grew up together. If there is any chance that she is innocent, I must do all in my power to prove it.”

“I feel the same way about Nicky. He may be a fool at times, but he is still my family.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “We shall work together, in secret, and unravel this to the best of our abilities.”

“Agreed,” I said.

As I rose to leave, I met Steele’s eyes. For the first time, I felt no distrust or wariness between us, but a shared and solemn vow.

We would find the truth.

No matter the cost.