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N early an hour later, Will watched as Eversham gave orders to Detective Cherrywood. A line of constables held back a growing crowd of gawkers who’d appeared as if out of nowhere to see the dead man.

Not long after he’d found Lucy covered in Fleetwood’s blood, Eversham and Kate had arrived, having been summoned by the Duchess of Langham after Meg had returned to the opera box without Lucy.

When he’d found Lucy and seen the dead man behind her, Will couldn’t help being reminded of his father’s murder. The smell of blood, the sight of the victim lying prostrate on the ground, the overwhelming feeling of dread… It was only the sight of Lucy, trembling and looking shattered, that had brought him back to reality. When Kate had gently taken Lucy in hand and ushered her to the carriage that she and her husband had arrived in, Will had bitten back a protest. He’d wanted to be the one to comfort Lucy. And if he was being entirely honest, he’d needed the comfort of holding her just as badly as she needed him to do it.

Now with the dead man covered in a sheet and Eversham standing before him, Will felt more himself and only waited for word from Lucy’s cousin to escort her home.

“I don’t have to tell you how damaging it will be to Lucy’s reputation if this gets out,” Eversham told him now. “Not only was there no one here to see the perpetrator of the crime, but she was also found covered in the man’s blood.”

The idea that anyone would think that Lucy Penhallow, who barely came up to Will’s shoulder and likely would have difficulty overpowering a lapdog cat, could have had the strength to plunge a knife into a man who outweighed her by five stone at least, was absurd. And yet, absurdity had never been much of a limitation for the gossipmongers when it came to speculation.

“Can’t you keep it quiet?” Will asked the other man, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s obvious she didn’t kill him.”

Eversham’s mouth tightened. “I will, of course, do what I can to ensure that her identity isn’t revealed, but I can’t control every last person at the Met who hears her name linked with this case. Plus, they know her because of her work there. It is only to be expected for people to gossip about someone known to them. Not to mention the fact that there is already a crowd of onlookers who have seen her face.”

Will uttered the foulest curse he could think of.

“Just so,” Eversham said grimly. “I have refrained from asking you about your intentions toward my cousin, because I know you are an honorable man. But the two of you have been involved in three incidents now that required the assistance of the Metropolitan Police. Not to mention the fact that neither of you seems indifferent to the other.”

Like the skilled interrogator he was, the detective superintendent let the silence hang between them until Will felt the need to speak.

“Of course my intentions are honorable,” he said, feeling strangely calm. “I am very fond of your cousin, and I believe she is fond of me as well. The only thing that has kept me from speaking up thus far is my financial situation.”

At this last statement, Eversham gave him a speaking look. “It seems to me that if you had doubts, you should have kept away from her until you were sure. Now it is too late. I am perhaps not as versed in the ways of the ton , but I know scandal when I see it. And the two of you are well and truly mired in it. You’d better make your declaration to her tonight so that an announcement can run in the evening papers tomorrow.”

For a man who claimed to know little about the ways of the beau monde, Will thought wryly, Eversham seemed to know a great deal about quashing scandal.

“I have been there many times when hasty betrothals have been arranged,” the detective said with a shrug, in answer to Will’s questioning look. “One learns things.”

Thinking back to what he’d heard about the marriages of the Evershams’ friends, as well as his own friends Lord Adrian and his wife, Jane, Will supposed that was the truth.

“Now,” Eversham said to him with a clap on the shoulder, “you’d better go get into the carriage and make your offer. The sooner this match is official, the sooner we can shield my cousin from scandal.”

Feeling nervous in a way he hadn’t since he was a boy, Will strode over to the carriage where Kate had disappeared with Lucy a short time ago.

When he pulled open the door, he exchanged a look with Kate, and she gave him a small nod before saying something he couldn’t hear to Lucy, then allowing Will to hand her down. To his surprise, the older woman gave him a quick hug.

“Good luck,” she told him with a smile. Then she left him to take her place in the carriage.

The interior of the carriage was much more opulent than those of the cabs he and Lucy had traveled in earlier. He was more familiar with this sort of conveyance, if he was honest. His family had always been wealthy as far back as he could recall.

Of course now, things were different. He wondered whether Lucy would be upset at having to marry a man with a title but no wealth. It was the sort of marriage contracted all the time. A marriage of convenience. He’d come home from Paris with the express purpose of making such a match.

So why was he so nervous now?

Perhaps because the idea of revealing his family’s newly discovered loss of wealth filled him with shame? It hadn’t been him to lose the money, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some responsibility, if only because of his inattention to the family accounts while he hid away from his duties in Paris.

To his surprise, as soon as he shut the carriage door behind him, Lucy flung herself into his arms and began to sob.

A feeling of protectiveness washed over Will as he cradled her against his chest and pulled her into his lap. He hated that she’d witnessed Fleetwood’s murder tonight. This was the second time this week she’d seen one man try to kill another. That she’d been alone when one of the perpetrators had succeeded in murdering his target filled Will with rage.

But he kept his anger to himself, not wanting to frighten her any more than she’d already been this night.

“I don’t know why I am so sad,” Lucy said after she’d exhausted her store of tears for now. Will had pressed his handkerchief into her hand, and after wiping her face and blowing her nose, she looked up at him with still-shining eyes. “Sir Charles was not a good man. He betrayed Vera in exchange for Hamilton’s money. And he tried to convince his sister to trick Vera into believing her dead mother wished her to marry Hamilton immediately. His very ill sister, I might add.”

Despite her obvious sorrow, Lucy’s vehemence at the despicable nature of Sir Charles Fleetwood’s actions remained unchanged. She lay her head against Will’s chest, and he stroked a hand down her back in comfort.

“You saw a man stabbed to death,” he said, holding her a little tighter when he remembered how close she’d been to a murderer tonight. “You are entitled to feel whatever it is you feel. Even if Fleetwood was not a good man, he didn’t deserve to be killed in such a manner.”

“He nearly did the same to Lord Cheswick the other night,” Lucy said, fiddling with the chain of Will’s watch in his coat pocket. “But I suppose the difference is that Sir Charles acted in the heat of the moment. But the man who stabbed him seemed to have come with the intention of killing. It was clear from what Sir Charles said that the two had a prior arrangement to meet. And the other man didn’t even bother to speak, for as soon as he arrived, he struck.”

Will closed his eyes as he gripped her to him. “You’re damned lucky the fellow didn’t see you. What possessed you to follow Sir Charles like that? You already knew he could be dangerous. What if he’d seen you?”

Lucy sighed, but didn’t lift her head. “I didn’t think he could possibly do anything to me with so many people about. And since the police had such a difficult time locating him, I thought I should try to at least delay him until he might be apprehended.”

“I was terrified when I saw you there,” Will said into her hair, remembering that moment when he’d come upon her, covered in blood and crying. “I thought I’d lost you.”

At his words, Lucy pulled back a little and looked into his face. “You did?” she asked, reaching up to trace a finger over his cheek.

Unable to stop himself, Will leaned forward and took her mouth.