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“Seems to me you could have killed them and all,” Locke said folding his arms.

“I didn’t even know I was in the running.” Leo replied.

“A likely story.”

Jesus Christ. “I don’t have time for this,” He grumbled turning back to Collins.

“Are you working with anyone on this?” Collins asked.

“Bielson, I’m meeting up with him after this.”

Collins nodded. “He’s good. Get me some hard evidence. I can’t move on suspicion alone Leo, or word of mouth. I need witnesses.”

“I know, I don’t expect you to bring him in tomorrow, I more want you to keep an eye out for anything he might be up to.”

Leo sighed and slapped his shoulder in appreciation as relief crept up at last. “I can do that.”

*

Starkley House

St. James, London

He was late. Already he was late, even to spend time with his friend, something as simple as an opera.

She fastened two golden bangles around her wrists and rose to her feet, the purple and blue shot silk dress swirling over her shoes.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, mangal sutra and guttapusalu necklace with its matching earrings in place.

Her hair was coiled at the base of her head and decorated with a rope of jasmine flowers.

She looked every bit the baroness ready to engage with society.

The only thing she was missing was her husband.

The man who had given his word that he would be here but for some reason was not. The door to the bedroom opened and she turned her head to look at her maid.

“The carriage is ready my lady,”

“Thank you Anna,” she replied snatching her reticule off the vanity and striding from the room and down the hallway.

“You look lovely,” Leo said. Her head snapped up to see him standing at the top of the stairs. Just like that the annoyance she’d felt disappeared.

“Thank you,” she looked him over. “You’re late, and you aren’t dressed.”

“Dressed for?”

And just like that the annoyance was back. “The opera, with Ada and Mr. Thompson,”

“You can call him Basil now Regina.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Thank you for the permission, now why aren’t you dressed?”

“Did I know about this?” he asked walking past her to his room.

Her head tilted to one side, wondering if he was being serious. “Yes, Leo you did.”

“Ah.”

She took a calming breath and counted to ten. “We will be late, but I can wait for you. I don’t believe they will mind.”

He paused and turned to her. “No go. I know you enjoy it.”

“Now you don’t enjoy the opera?” she asked.

“I didn’t say that. But there’s no reason for you to miss the opera because I am not ready.” He shrugged. “Go and enjoy yourself.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked. He couldn’t just stay here alone while she went out to enjoy herself.

“I’ll be alright.” He called, walking into his room but leaving the door open.

“What if you miss me?” she asked, and he emerged from his room, a suggestive grin on his face.

“Then I shall use it as a lesson to never be parted from you again.”

She gave him a speculative look. “I don’t believe that for a moment, but I don’t have time to debate it with you.”

She had always known there would be an adjustment period for him.

Her mother had warned her after all. But now that she was seeing it, she was annoyed.

There was no way around it. The idea that he would give her such a ridiculous excuse as if she was a simpleton instead of being honest. She hadn’t expected him to stray from the course so quickly.

She was nearly halfway down the stairs when she noticed the man standing in the foyer.

He was tall and handsome enough, although his skin was a lighter shade of brown than Leo’s.

His posture reminded her of Leo and her father, which only meant one thing.

Military. His gaze was as curious and assessing as Leo’s which pointed to one profession. Investigation.

What on earth was he doing there? Did Leo know he was there? Had he arrived with him, or had he just entered?

“Hello,” Regina greeted him, her eyes flicking up towards the third floor where her husband was. “Who are you?”

He bowed to her. “My name is Bielson, my lady. Mr. Llewellyn Bielson.”

“Llewellyn… that is a very Welsh name, sir.” His grey eyes were almost startling in his face, made even more so by the energy behind his gaze.

“Yes, it is. My mother was Welsh.”

Had Leo only come home to change his clothes? “May I assume your business here is with my husband?”

“Aye Lady Starkley, it is.”

“Did you come in with him and he left you here like a salesman?”

“No, he asked me—”

“Bielson, you are early,” Leo came jogging down the stairs, his waistcoat half unbuttoned.

“On time is late.”

“True enough,” Leo replied shaking his hand. “Regina this is Mr. Bielson, he is a former colleague of mine.”

She stared at him for a moment, annoyance now warring with confusion. It was clear he hadn’t had any intention of joining her this evening. “Yes. I’ve met him already.”

“Oh.”

She let that word hang in the air uncomfortably while their apparent guest watched them both. She waited for him to explain his behavior, to explain why this man was here. Why he’d specifically arranged to meet him at this time believing she would be gone. But no answer was forthcoming.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up and carry on with my plans for the evening.” She turned to Bielson who was watching the two of them with great interest. “Good evening Mr. Bielson.”

“Good evening, Lady Starkley.”

She nodded and left. She would deal with her husband later.

*

Bielson let out a low whistle as they watched Regina stride out the door in a cloud of jasmine and temper.

Leo knew that he would have to pay the price later on that night.

If the look on Regina’s face was any indication she was likely to challenge him in a blood sport when she returned from the opera.

“She is a rare one.” Bielson commented.

“In several ways.” Leo agreed.

“And she didn’t look very happy with you at all.” He looked at Leo with comically wide eyes, as Leo guided him to the study.

“I was supposed to join her tonight. Part of her charm offensive to win over the ton.”

He nodded slowly. “I take it she doesn’t know about Harrison?”

“No and it’s going to stay that way. She’s been dreading him for too long, we need to neutralize him as quickly as possible so I can start playing the baron.”

“It is bloody weird seeing you here,” he commented looking around the room at the dark wood paneling and the richly upholstered furniture.

“How do you think it feels living here?

“Where is your mother?”

“I think if she never spends another day in London for the rest of her life it will be too soon. She’s at the dower house on the Starkley Manor estate in Cheshire. I have multiple estates now apparently.”

Bielson gave him a mocking look. “Mmm, I can’t quite pity you. Especially not with a wife like that.”

“Fair enough, what have you got?”

“For the death a year or so back it’s hard to find anything concrete.

But for the one earlier this year, I was able to find out that Harrison was at the same beach side resort where that poor idiot died.

There were races, but the accident that led to the former baron’s death wasn’t due to a malfunction in the phaeton itself, but the beach.

A wheel got stuck.” Bielson’s tone was dry as tinder.

“Stuck?” How did the wheel get stuck on sand?

“In a hole. Someone set it up for him to drive that vehicle over that exact spot and result in the accident that sent him flying and broke his neck.”

Clever. “But you can’t prove it was him?”

Bielson shook his head. “No. He’s slippery and mostly careful.

An accident at sea during a supposed storm, illness, an unfortunate hunting accident, an ill-advised phaeton race on the beach.

There is nothing that links him to all of these at the moment.

Just the one and it is tentative as hell.

Essentially, we need an accomplice to turn, to catch him in the act, or for a police office to overhear him talking about it. ”

“I can’t just wait for him to act.” And he couldn’t risk Regina finding out he was a threat either.

“Are you sure you don’t want to mention it to your baroness?” Bielson asked. “I don’t want to tell you your business, but if she is going to be attending public events she should be aware of the potential danger.”

Leo shook his head. He couldn’t dispel the image of her terrified face the night they made love the first time.

The tears in her eyes, the way she had clung to him in desperation.

He could only imagine the nightmares she’d had to drive her to beg him for something so unthinkable for a young lady of her breeding.

He didn’t want her to have to spare another thought on that man. He’d rather her be angry with him than terrified once again. “I don’t want her to worry.”

“Understood. There’s a pub he supposedly frequents regularly; we can try there first. But we need an officer.”

“I spoke to Collins.”

Bielson nodded and approval. “He’s a good one. Bring him next time. For now let’s go and see what we find.”

*

The Lyceum, London

Ada and Basil were already waiting for Regina when she arrived at the theatre.

She pulled Ada into a tight hug the moment she was close enough and held on for a moment longer than usual.

To Ada’s credit she didn’t let go, simply waited for Regina to release her.

Then she took her arm as they made their way to The Starkley Box.

“Gigi, where is your baron? I thought he was coming tonight.” Ada asked.

“I was under that impression as well,” Regian replied, hoping her annoyance didn’t show. “But he was unexpectedly detained. A friend of his came to visit, a Mr. Bielson.”

“From the army?” Basil asked.

“I believe so.” She turned to Basil as they all took their seats. “Do you know the man?”

“I’m familiar with the name, but frankly I don’t know that I’d recognize him. He didn’t go to school with us,” he replied.

“Ah.” That was annoying. She’d hoped he would have more information as to why Leo would be meeting with him so urgently. “Either way by the time I was ready for the carriage he was just getting back from wherever he had been.”

“We could have waited for him,” Ada said.

“I did mention that, but he insisted on staying behind. He assures me that he will attend the next event however.” Regina gave her a smile she didn’t feel.

“Oh, Basil,” Ada turned to her husband and clutched his arm firmly, “do you think your mother would be willing to host a dinner to welcome the new Baron and Baroness Starkley?”

“You mean as she did for us?” he asked, taking her sudden grasp in his stride. He was much more accustomed to Ada’s tendency to touch people at a moment’s notice.

“Would she be willing to do that? I don’t want to put her out.” The Viscountess Sterling had certainly been kind in her son’s absence, but meeting someone at a public venue wasn’t hosting them for a formal dinner.

“She has been talking of little else other than Leo ever since she met him. It was becoming tiresome. I imagine she would be happy to do so.”

“It would be wonderful honestly. But only if she is fully willing to do so.”

He gave a decisive nod. “Understood.”

“I think it’s beginning,” Ada said. “Are you alright?” she whispered to Regina.

“I believe so.”