Page 10

Every instinct Evander possessed screamed at him that the missing journal was a key lead in their investigation.

“Could it be what they were searching his chambers for this morning?” Shaw pondered.

“The same thought crossed my mind,” Rufus muttered.

Evander’s gaze swept the room once more, taking in the disarray with fresh eyes. The missing journal, the burned papers—all of it pointed to a man desperately trying to conceal something of great importance.

It seemed his instincts on the ride here had been correct, after all.

He turned to Cecillia. “Thank you, Professor Harrington. You’ve been more helpful than the rest of the faculty combined.”

A shadow crossed her face. “I hope I haven’t betrayed Walter’s trust. But if he’s in danger…” She faltered and bit her lip.

“If he is, we’re his best chance,” Rufus assured her. “And we’ll do everything in our power to find him.”

“I do have one final question for you,” Evander told Cecillia.

She gave him a puzzled look.

“How was Walter Whitley’s relationship with Caine Renwick?”

Cecillia’s expression grew shuttered, but not before Evander glimpsed a spark of dread in the depths of her eyes.

“It wasn’t the most amicable of work relations,” she confessed in a strained voice.

“Though many in the faculty considered Professor Renwick to have a brilliant mind, Walter once privately told me he thought Renwick was dangerous. He was civil to the man, but he did not engage with him beyond what was strictly necessary.”

“Thank you for being candid with your answer,” Evander said quietly. “It’s a breath of fresh air compared to what we’ve endured today.”

Cecillia smiled weakly. She handed Evander a small card as they prepared to leave.

“My address, should you need to reach me. I’m not staying in my Institute quarters at present. I don’t feel safe here, what with Walter’s disappearance.”

Evander pocketed the card with a nod of thanks. The sun was starting to sink as they departed the Royal Institute. He felt dozens of eyes follow their progress to the gates as they crossed the long shadows in the courtyard.

Bartley was snoring softly beside Fitch. He awoke with a startled “Gnnhh!” when his colleague jabbed an elbow sharply in his ribs.

“Glad to see one of you stayed alert,” Rufus remarked acerbically.

“I was just resting my eyes, Inspector,” Bartley protested. His jaw-splitting yawn did little to support this blatant lie.

“Ollie?”

“Yes, Freddie?”

“Now would be a good time to shut up.”

“Well, that was illuminating,” Shaw said once they were safely inside the carriage. “Rare magical abilities, secret French collaborators, burned papers—why, it’s like something out of a penny dreadful.”

Evander could tell from the gleam in her eyes that she was relishing the challenge of their investigation.

“And yet entirely too real,” Rufus contributed grimly. “The question is, what did Whitley discover that frightened him so badly?”

“And how does it connect to his disappearance?” Evander murmured.

The journey back to Scotland Yard was spent in thoughtful silence. Shaw departed to file her report with the AFD once they arrived, while Rufus accompanied Evander to his office.

“I’ll speak with Winterbourne about reaching out to the French authorities,” Rufus said as they entered the west wing. “They might be able to find out who Whitley was collaborating with.”

“Agreed,” Evander replied with a frown.

Rufus’s suggestion proved unnecessary in the end.

A sealed message marked urgent was waiting on Evander’s desk when he entered his office. He broke the wax seal and scanned the contents rapidly.

What he read had his stomach plummeting.

“What is it?” Rufus asked tensely at his expression.

“It seems the French magical authorities are already involved.” Evander handed over the message.

“They’re sending one of their Arcane Investigators to London.

Apparently, a specialist in advanced Elemental Magic by the name of Professor Henri Chevalier has gone missing.

He worked at the Paris Institute for the Arcane.

” He frowned. “He must be the French professor Whitley was collaborating with.”

Rufus cursed softly as he read the missive. “Two elemental specialists from two different countries, both connected by their research, and both vanishing within days of each other? This is no accident.”

“No,” Evander agreed grimly.

He looked at his pocket watch. The French investigator was due to arrive the following morning and would be meeting them at Scotland Yard.

“Why don’t we stop here for today? We should ask Shaw to send a forensic team to Walter Whitley’s home tomorrow.”

Rufus nodded.

Evander began gathering his things. “Will you be at Ginny’s tonight?”

Rufus’s ears turned red. “Yes. She’s invited Ophelia for dinner.”

The daughter of Baron Miller, a representative of the House of Lords, Ophelia Miller was not only the current belle of the social season but also a rare light mage.

Though her power was a secret she and her family had kept all their lives, she had stepped in briefly to assist Evander during the Renwick affair.

He was now part of the inner circle who knew about her wondrous abilities and had sworn to protect her confidentiality, along with Ginny, Viggo, and Rufus.

Evander’s chest lightened as he observed the inspector.

No one had been more surprised than he and Ginny when Ophelia and Rufus had developed an instant attraction for one another upon their very first meeting a few weeks ago.

“How goes the courting?”

“It’s going well, thank you,” Rufus murmured.

Evander arched an eyebrow. “Are you ready to talk to the baron yet?”

Rufus’s eyes widened with alarm. “Should I? I’ve been wondering about that. I mean, Ophelia insisted we court in secret for now and I am ever so grateful Ginny has chaperoned our meetings, but—” he babbled.

“Relax, Rufus.” Evander crossed the floor and pressed a hand on the inspector’s shoulder. “I was only jesting. Besides, I doubt the baron will be able to resist his daughter’s demands if she insists on marrying you.”

Rufus blanched. “Oh God. Should I propose? Isn’t it too early? I was thinking of the spring, so we could plan a summer wedding. What if Ophelia is expecting a marriage demand and I end up disappointing her—” He stopped, his chest heaving with panic.

A hurt look washed across his face at Evander’s muffled snort.

Evander swallowed and did his best to keep a straight face. “You’re going to be a mess at the altar.”

“That is not helpful, Evander,” Rufus groaned. “Keep teasing and I’ll choose another groomsman.”

By the time Evander’s carriage delivered him to his Mayfair townhouse, night had fallen and he was looking forward to the prospect of dinner with Viggo and his friends.

Hargrove greeted him at the door with his usual efficiency.

“Good evening, my Lord.” The manservant took Evander’s coat. “I trust your day was productive?”

“More frustrating than productive,” Evander replied with a weary sigh. “I shall have a bath and get ready.”

“Of course, my Lord. I’ll have it prepared immediately.” Hargrove hesitated. “There’s a message for you from Mr. Stonewall. It arrived an hour ago.”

Evander’s spirits lifted at the mention of Viggo. “Where is it?”

“In the study, my Lord. Along with your other correspondence.”

Evander swiftly made his way to his office, where the evening post had been neatly arranged on a silver tray. Viggo’s note was on top, the paper folded and sealed with plain wax.

Evander broke the seal and unfolded the message. His heart sank.

Evander,

Regretfully, I must cancel our dinner engagement with Lady Hartley this evening. Urgent matters at Nightshade require my immediate attention. I shall explain when we meet next.

Yours with affection,

V

Evander frowned. The note was short, even for Viggo. He’d given no indication of when they might next see each other.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” Hargrove asked from the doorway. The manservant had followed at a discreet distance.

“It seems Mr. Stonewall has been detained by business matters and won’t be able to attend tonight’s dinner function at Lady Hartley’s,” he murmured.

Though the peculiar timing of Viggo’s cancellation nagged at Evander, he pushed the concern aside as he headed upstairs to freshen up. At least he would have pleasant company this evening.