Page 40 of Is This Real or Just Pretend?

Shocked, Alex looked at her sister. “A week ?”

Freddie shrugged. “That’s what he said. Maybe even a little longer, depending on how he heals.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Alex said quickly. “No, I just didn’t—oh, blast. ”

She hadn’t been paying attention and overfilled her cup. Now tea was getting everywhere.

The housekeeper politely ignored her very unladylike curse and began mopping up the mess. “Allow me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Drummond,” Alex mumbled.

“Not a problem, Miss Alexandra. Might I suggest a drop of whiskey? I’ve found there’s nothing better for soothing the nerves,” Mrs. Drummond said with a wink.

Normally, Alex would feel compelled to insist that her nerves were just fine , but today she waved a hand. “Yes, why not.”

Mrs. Drummond flashed her a smile and nodded. As the housekeeper headed for the liquor cabinet, Freddie arched a brow.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me I’ve finally shocked you.”

“In the last day you’ve cried in front of me, said you didn’t want to go to the office, and now you’re drinking in the afternoon.” Freddie ticked off each item on her hand. “Yes, I’d say you’ve suitably shocked me.”

Alex huffed a laugh while Mrs. Drummond returned with the whiskey bottle and poured a generous drop into her teacup. “I suppose that is a rather surprising trifecta.”

“I would have thought hell would freeze first.” The housekeeper abruptly cleared her throat. “Apologies for my bad language, Mrs. Drummond,” Freddie said. “My sister and I are both a little out of sorts today.”

Mrs. Drummond tried to look stern, but a smile pulled at her lips. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Alex said, but then Freddie called her back.

“Send word to Dr. Mosley and tell him Lucien woke about an hour ago, had the medicine he left, and fell asleep again. He’ll probably stop by later anyway,” Freddie added airily. “But I know he wanted to be notified when Lucien woke.”

“Of course, Miss Winifred,” the housekeeper said with a nod and left the room.

Alex bit the inside of her cheek and mentally chastised herself for feeling envious over Freddie taking charge of the situation.

She should be grateful to her sister for taking over when she had been too exhausted to stay up.

She was grateful. But oh, how Alex wished she could have been there when he woke.

Instead, he had been greeted by the image of Freddie, looking fresh-faced and angelic in her simple white gown.

She could picture his smile of relief, even now.

But just as Alex’s stomach began to tighten, she took a long sip of tea.

“Alex,” Freddie prompted. “He will be fine ,” she said with certainty. “Don’t worry.”

Alex was swamped with guilt over her unkind thoughts. “I know,” she bleated, not sounding very certain. Freddie gave her an encouraging smile and patted her hand. But before Alex could castigate herself any further, someone knocked softly on the door.

Mrs. Drummond entered with a worried look on her face. “Sorry to interrupt,” she began. “But an Inspector Holland is here. And he said it is urgent.”

Alex set down her cup and hurried to her feet. Just the distraction she was looking for. “Of course. Show him in.”

She smoothed the front of her dress and patted her hair. Now she regretted not taking the time to change. Alex wasn’t used to having even a hair out of place, but it was too late for that.

“You look fine,” Freddie grunted. “It’s only the inspector.”

Alex turned in surprise at the dismissive comment and found Freddie slouching with her arms crossed.

Strange .

But Alex didn’t have the chance to ruminate on this any further before Inspector Holland appeared. Only then did Freddie bother to sit up—and reluctantly, at that.

“Thank you so much for coming here,” Alex said as she shook his hand. “I know how busy you are.”

Freddie muttered something under her breath that Alex couldn’t quite make out. The inspector cast her a quick glance before addressing Alex.

“I would have come sooner, but Officer O’Connell suggested it had been a late night. I thought I would give you both time to recover.”

“Hello, Inspector,” Freddie said curtly.

“Miss Atkinson,” he said with a brief nod before turning back to Alex. “Is there somewhere we could speak in private?”

“Why don’t we go to my father’s study—”

“No need,” Freddie said briskly. “I have some things to attend to. Lovely to see you again.” Though her tone indicated quite the opposite. Then she marched out of the room with her nose stuck in the air.

Alex was bewildered. She had been certain Freddie would make a nuisance of herself in front of the detective, as usual. She turned to him and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

But Inspector Holland’s gaze was fixed on the doorway while his hands were clenched in fists at his sides. Then he quickly recovered and turned to her. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Alex furrowed her brow. “Yes,” she said slowly, then gestured for him to sit.

Inspector Holland looked relieved she didn’t press him further, and Alex filed that away in her mind to ruminate on later. They had far more important things to discuss at the moment than the reason for Freddie’s sour mood.

Once alone, Alex gestured to the tea service. “May I offer you a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you.” Then he leaned forward and clasped his large hands together. “I’d like you to tell me exactly what happened last night,” he said, getting right to the point. It was a quality Alex could appreciate.

“Certainly. But didn’t one of the officers tell you? I gave them a full statement last night.”

The inspector nodded. “Yes, but I’d still like to hear it from you. Particularly regarding anything you can remember about the man who assaulted Mr. Taylor.”

Alex then related exactly what she’d told the officers: She had been working at her desk when she heard Lucien’s shouts.

After loading the pistol, she charged down the hallway and exchanged words with the assailant.

The inspector’s lips twitched in an amused smile when Alex described their exchange along with her shock when the man ran off.

“Well, you did have a gun,” the inspector pointed out.

“I suppose that put me at an advantage.”

“Describe him for me.”

Alex took a sip of tea as she pondered this. “Tall. Most definitely over six feet. Well-built, but he seemed older. Like he was past his prime. He had dark eyes but I couldn’t see his hair color as it was hidden under his cap. But he also could have been bald.”

“Anything else of note?”

“He had several scars on his face, including one across his mouth.”

The inspector’s jaw tensed ever so slightly. “Thank you, miss. Atkinson. That is very helpful,” he said. “Is Mr. Taylor available?”

“He’s asleep at the moment, but I can try to wake him.”

Inspector Holland shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure he needs to rest. I’ll speak with him another time.”

Alex tilted her head. “Then… you know his attacker?”

“Given your description, I’m quite certain it’s an ex-boxer named Gerald O’Hara. Went by the name of Gorgeous Gerry back in his fighting days.” Alex let out a snort and the inspector raised an eyebrow. “It was meant to be ironic.”

“I’ll say,” she muttered.

“He’s also a known associate of the Nun,” Inspector Holland continued.

Alex let out a breath. Though she had assumed as much, having her suspicions confirmed only deepened her guilt. “What happens now?”

Inspector Holland’s dark eyes gleamed. “Are you willing to testify against O’Hara in court?”

Alex didn’t hesitate. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure nothing like this happens again to anyone I—” She stopped abruptly and swallowed. “Anyone I care for.”

The inspector watched her closely. “Of course.”

Love. She had been about to say “love.”

Inspector Holland was still talking, but Alex didn’t hear a word. Her mind was a whirl.

“Miss Atkinson,” the Inspector suddenly prompted and Alex’s gaze shot to his face. “We can continue this later, if you need to rest.”

Alex sat up a little straighter. “No, I’m fine. Please continue.”

“As I was saying, I am building a case against the criminal known as the Nun and his associates. But very few people are willing to speak against him for fear of retaliation.”

“What is the difference?” Alex shrugged, unconcerned. “I’m already a target, as you can see.”

“Yes, but I’d wager that after last night the Nun expects you to be scared. Likely, that was what O’Hara was sent to do in the first place. Pummeling Mr. Taylor was just a bonus,” he added.

Alex’s blood began to boil. “Well, then he has made a sizable error,” she pronounced.

Inspector Holland pursed his lips as if he was trying not to smile. “I can’t tell if you’re one of the bravest women I’ve met, or simply the most reckless. Your sister Phoebe presented a similar conundrum.”

“I suspect it’s a mixture of both,” she said with a weary sigh. “I will take more care, though. I can promise you that. My sisters and I may be reckless on occasion, but we all have healthy sense of self-preservation.”

Alex had meant it as a lighthearted quip, but Inspector Holland’s face noticeably darkened. “Then I suggest you have a word with Winifred, given that her sense of self-preservation appears to be missing entirely.”

Alex tilted her head. “What happened, Inspector?”

He avoided her eyes and rose to his feet. “Just… keep an eye on her. I will send word when I have something. In the meantime, I suggest staying close to home as much as possible. And do not go anywhere alone.”

“Understood,” she said with a nod. “I mean it this time.”

As the inspector put on his bowler hat, he grumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like “ Finally ” and left the room.