Page 37

A MONTH LATER

I t was a rare thing—a warm, golden day in mid-spring when London felt more like a promise than a burden.

Taking advantage of the fine weather, the children and I strolled to Grosvenor Square for a few hours of play. They dashed about with shrieks of delight while I lingered on a bench beneath a budding plane tree, a novel resting open on my lap, forgotten.

The square was alive with laughter and conversation, carriages gliding past the railings and nannies gossiping beneath parasols. It was all so familiar. So wonderfully, achingly ordinary.

But, as I looked up, something shifted.

Across the square, near the west gate, stood a figure I knew instantly. Tall, dark, self-contained. The cut of his coat, the set of his shoulders. Steele. And he was not alone.

A young lady in a deep green walking suit stood beside him, speaking with animation. Her curls caught the light as she tilted her head and smiled up at him. I recognized her. Lady Scarlet. Lord Throckmorton’s daughter. A beauty, undeniably. And a noted heiress besides.

Steele inclined his head as she spoke, his expression unreadable from this distance.

I told myself it didn’t matter. But my heart clenched all the same.

Not out of jealousy. I had no claim on him, after all. But out of the quiet, bitter realization that something had changed within me. Something I could no longer deny. But whatever had grown between us had ended at the Duchess of Comingford’s ball. And I had no one to blame but myself.

I turned back to my book, where I spent several minutes not taking in any words. But then, a cry alerted me to a change.

“Duke!” Petunia’s voice rang out across the square, clear and insistent. “We’re playing Skittles and I just knocked over seven! Would you like to join us?”

I looked up in surprise to find Steele crossing the lawn toward us, the sunlight catching the faintest gleam at his temple. He bowed with mock solemnity at Petunia’s invitation.

“Seven, you say?” he replied gravely. “A formidable score. I doubt I can match it.”

She beamed. “You may try! I’ll even let you go next.”

Steele crouched beside the wooden pins, inspecting the setup with the seriousness of a man reviewing battlefield plans. “High stakes,” he murmured, his gaze flicking sideways toward me. “Lady Rosalynd.”

For one suspended moment, everything else—Lady Scarlet, the spring air, even my aching heart—fell away.

He smiled, faint but unmistakable. “May I?”

I found my voice at last. “Only if you're prepared to be thoroughly trounced by a seven-year-old.”

He settled into the game with the children, unbothered by the stares of passing matrons or the indignity of kneeling on the grass beside a crooked wooden frame.

I watched them for a moment, then rose and joined them, knowing full well the gossip this scene might stir. But I no longer cared. At least not entirely.

Did you enjoy A Murder in Mayfair ? If you did, I invite you to take a look at A Murder in Trinity Lane , Book 2 in the Rosalynd & Steele Mysteries.

A forbidden passion. A dangerous secret. A truth some would kill for to keep buried.

London, 1889 . Hoping society has begun to forget the scandal that once engulfed her, Lady Rosalynd Rosehaven turns her attention to one of her most cherished causes—the Home for Unwed Mothers, a discreet refuge where poor, unmarried women can give birth in safety and dignity. But when one of the young women is found murdered in a shadowed alley off Trinity Lane, the fragile calm of Rosalynd’s aristocratic life is abruptly shattered.

Drawn into the case by a desperate plea, Rosalynd reluctantly turns to the one man she swore to keep at arm’s length—the enigmatic Duke of Steele . Brilliant, brooding, and far too perceptive for her comfort, Steele stirs emotions she has fought hard to suppress. Their uneasy alliance soon leads them deep into a tangled web of hidden pasts, threatened reputations, and powerful figures determined to protect their secrets—no matter the cost.

As pressure builds from both the high society drawing rooms and the shadows of power, Rosalynd must risk everything—her reputation, her safety, and a part of herself she never wished to surrender. In seeking justice, she may lose more than her good name. She may lose her heart.

A Murder in Trinity Lane , Book 2 in the Rosalynd & Steele Mysteries by USA Today bestselling author Magda Alexander, plunges readers into a world of forbidden passions, deadly secrets, and Victorian suspense. Perfect for fans of historical mystery series featuring independent women sleuths, brooding dukes, and slow-burn romance, this Victorian historical mystery will keep readers riveted until the final page.