Page 12

Chapter

Eleven

AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE

H aving spent longer with Steele than I intended, I rushed back to Walsh House, all the time praying nothing alarming had occurred. I stepped out of the hackney with an air of weary determination, brushing off the chill that clung to my traveling cloak.

The grand facade of Walsh House loomed before me, its stately windows glinting under the overcast afternoon sky. I had scarcely crossed the threshold when the butler, a usually unflappable man, approached me with an urgency that sent a ripple of unease down my spine.

“Milady,” he murmured. "Inspector Dodson is here. He is speaking with Lady Julia in the drawing room."

My breath hitched. Unfortunately, my prayers had not been answered.

Without waiting for another word, I strode through the halls, my heels clicking against the polished marble. As I reached the drawing room, my grip tightened around the folds of my skirts. The deep timbre of Inspector Dodson’s voice carried through the heavy doors.

"Are you expecting a child, Lady Walsh?"

My pulse quickened with indignation. How dare he ask such a personal question? I threw open the doors, my voice cutting through the tense silence. "Lady Walsh will not answer that."

Inspector Dodson turned, a slow, amused smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. He was a tall, hawkish man with an unsettling gaze that belied his polite demeanor.

"Lady Rosalynd," he drawled, inclining his head. "A pleasure."

I ignored his false pleasantries and stepped protectively toward my cousin. Julia sat stiff-backed on the settee, her gloved hands knotted together in her lap. Her pallor was even more pronounced than the last time I saw her.

“I am entitled to ask questions of her,” Dodson said.

“Not without her solicitor present,” I declared firmly.

Dodson’s smirk widened. "Then I will expect to see her at Scotland Yard. Do let me know when she’s ready to be brought in for formal questioning."

Julia let out a strangled gasp, her composure crumbling. The moment the inspector strode from the room, she dissolved into tears.

I was at my cousin’s side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Do not distress yourself, dearest. We will handle this."

Before Julia could respond, voices echoed from the entryway. A footman’s muffled protest preceded the arrival of an unwished-for visitor—Lord Nicholas, Steele’s brother.

His sudden appearance startled us both. He entered hastily, his dark hair disheveled and his expression tense with worry. His eyes immediately found Julia, and without hesitation, he crossed the room to kneel beside her settee. “Julia, my God,” he murmured urgently, his gaze searching her face. "Are you all right?”

Julia’s breath hitched softly, and her eyes welled with tears at his evident concern.

“Lord Nicholas, you shouldn't be here," I said in a no-nonsense tone.

He glanced apologetically at me. "Forgive me, Lady Rosalynd. I realize I'm intruding, but I couldn’t stay away. The rumors … Julia’s distress. I had to know she was safe."

My voice grew stern. "Did Inspector Dodson see you?"

"Regrettably, yes," Nicky admitted. “I was just arriving when he was descending the front steps.”

I slowly shook my head. Nothing worse than a fool in love. Did he even begin to realize what he’d done? “Your presence here will only fuel his suspicions. He already believes that you and Julia planned Lord Walsh’s murder."

"That's absurd!" Lord Nicholas exclaimed, rushing to his feet, anguish plain in his voice. His fingers tightened on Julia’s hand. "I could never ... Julia would never?—"

"Nevertheless," I interrupted gently, "perception matters, Lord Nicholas. You must go."

Julia's eyes widened in alarm. "No! Rosalynd, please?—"

"Julia," Lord Nicholas whispered tenderly, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles, "Lady Rosalynd is right. I mustn't place you at further risk."

Julia turned pleading eyes toward him. "But if you leave now, they’ll think?—”

"They already think," I interjected. "Your innocence will speak louder if you remain apart."

Lord Nicholas drew a deep breath, torn by his conflicting emotions. "If there’s anything I can do?—"

"There isn’t," I said, a note of finality in my voice. "Julia’s safety and yours depends on discretion. Please, do as I say."

Julia, at last, lowered her eyes in reluctant acceptance. "Go," she whispered hoarsely, withdrawing her hand slowly from his. "For now."

He rose stiffly, his eyes lingering on Julia with undisguised anguish. "If you need me, send word immediately."

Once he had departed, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Julia's expression had hardened slightly, a quiet resentment flickering in her eyes. "You should leave too, Rosalynd," she said abruptly. "I can handle things from here."

She was lashing out at me because I’d banished Lord Nicholas. But it was something that needed to be done for her own good. “Very well. I shall do as you wish. At least allow me to contact Steele about arranging a solicitor."

Julia sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping with fatigue. "Yes. I would appreciate it if he could do that.”

“I’ll send him a note as soon as I arrive home.”

“Thank you, Rosalynd.” Her voice hadn’t entirely thawed, but it had warmed. “I really do appreciate your kindness.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything,” I said, my words almost an echo of Lord Nicholas’s.

“I’ll send for you.”

I stood slowly, my gaze lingering on Julia’s weary face. Our bond, so strong only yesterday, now hung by a thread of wary distance. As the drawing room door closed softly behind me, I paused, uncertain and anxious about what the future would hold—for Julia, for Lord Nicholas, indeed, for all of us.