Jasper was curious to know why. “Perhaps she left nothing to her father,” he suggested. It was the most reasonable answer.
“Or he was upset that two people connected to Gregory Reid were summoned here and chose not to attend,” Leo added.
“I’d considered that too.”
Richard Cowper had squarely laid the blame for the untimely deaths of his daughter and grandchildren at Gregory Reid’s feet, saying that had he not been working as a policeman, he would have been at the boating pond in Regent’s Park that day when the ice broke. He would have been able to stop his wife and children from slipping under the broken sheets of ice and drowning in the deep, frigid water. And though his father had acknowledged that even had he been there, the outcome might have been the same, Jasper despised the viscount for piling onto a heartbroken man and twisting his grief.
He ate another biscuit, though it was bland and dry, and finished his tea. Meanwhile, Leo stared into the fire with a faraway look. She was likely rereading the letter from Mrs. Stroud, which had been emblazoned in her memory the moment she read it.
What he’d said in the carriage on the ride to Cowper Fields was the bald truth: He’d missed her. Not a day had passed during his secondment to Liverpool when he had not thought of her. From sunrise to the moment he dropped into bed each night, thoughts of Leo flowed through his mind like an ever-unraveling length of thread. Sometimes the thread would catch and tug, as it had a time when he’d been walking behind a young woman who looked so much like Leo—her figure, her clothing, her hair, even the set of her shoulders—that he’d needed to cross the street and increase his pace in order to look back at her to be sure Leo had not arrived in Liverpool unannounced. But for the most part, the thread unraveled with a persistent ache. Especially at night, after writing yet another letter to her in hissmall room at Mrs. Hart’s boardinghouse. Christ, he’d never written so damn much in his life. And when her replies arrived in the post, he’d read them with her voice clear in his head.
He’d wanted a different reunion with her than this odd and uncomfortable will reading, and the even stranger news that they were to jointly own a home in exchange for solving an old case. The bizarreness of it all hadn’t helped their awkward meeting at the train station. Jasper had wanted to take Leo into his arms and kiss her, and yet, there had been an unexpected wall between them.
A strong gust of wind howled outside, and a clap of thunder shook the glass panes in the sitting room window. The electric lamps flickered briefly and seemed to distract Leo from her musings. She looked at him, and a small frown tugged her lips.
“Have you heard from Andrew Carter at all?” she asked softly.
A bit of tension fed back into his shoulders. “No. Have you?”
She shook her head, and Jasper sat back on the settee, relieved. Part of him had been grateful when Detective Chief Inspector Dermot Coughlan had come to him in July with a request from Liverpool for one of the Yard’s inspectors to join them for a complicated case. Superintendent Monroe had recommended Jasper for the secondment, and Coughlan had approved the choice. Whether or not Jasper approved didn’t matter; he would go and do the Yard proud. Leaving London and Leo for an unspecified length of time came with one benefit: physical distance from Andrew Carter and his family.
Jasper’s inquiry into Andrew’s new wife’s murder at Striker’s Wharf months before had stirred the youngest Carter brother’s suspicion over the lead inspector’s resemblance to James, Andrew’s third cousin who’d drowned nearly two decades before. Eventually, he’d put the truth together and approached Jasper with the threat of exposing his true identity—unless hedid favors for his cousin, whenever he might need them. Andrew had mentioned Leo in that same conversation, alluding to his willingness to use her as a means of coercing Jasper, if need be.
His blood ties were complicated and permanent, and Leo would surely be better off with a man who did not have an axe hanging over his neck. But he refused to give her up because of the bloody Carters. Not to mention that he seethed with jealousy at the mere thought of Leo being with another man.
“Then again,” Leo went on, her voice turning lighter. “Perhaps I haven’t heard from Mr. Carter due to my outings with Lord Hayes.” She formed a crafty arch of her brow. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know what you were up to?”
Jasper smothered a grin. He’d asked his good friend Oliver Hayes to check in on Leo every now and again and invite her out for dinner or for a stroll. Though Jasper kept his reasons to himself, he’d wanted Oliver and Leo out in public, in case Andrew had his men watching. His cousin had had Jasper tailed for weeks back in July before approaching him to make his demands, and he wouldn’t put it past Andrew to have eyes on Leo too. If word got back to Andrew that Leo was stepping out with another man, well then, that wouldn’t be so bad. Apparently, Leo had deciphered Jasper’s intentions, though.
“I hope Hayes behaved himself,” he said, already trusting his friend had been a gentleman, and yet also unable to stifle a jealous twinge.
“He told me to tell you how angelic he was,” she replied, her smile growing. “But you should know he is a hopeless flirt.”
Jasper groaned. “I am aware.”
“We had some lively discussions.”
He shifted on the cushion. “Did you?”
“I believe I might have swayed him on the topic of women’s suffrage.”
As Oliver had once called all suffragists “miserable harpies,” Jasper would be astonished if indeed his friend had come around.
“We attended the theatre too,” she went on, still grinning, as if knowing the thorns of envy were pushing deeper into him. “He leases his own box. It was very nice.”
“How lovely,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “I think we should see if Mr. Corman is finished with the rest of the will reading.”
He stood up—and the lamps in the room flickered out. The fire provided enough light to see by, but at the next raging howl of wind, something struck the window. Leo jumped to her feet and whirled, but Jasper raised a hand to calm her as the shadow of the object fell.
“It was just a tree branch,” he said.
“The wind must have taken down some electrical wires,” she supposed.
Jasper started for the closed door to the sitting room, still aiming to see if the solicitor had finished the reading of the will and if Helen Dalton was available for an interview. In the entrance hall, servants had already lit candles and paraffin lamps. The butler, Decamp, strode toward him, hands clasped behind his back.
“Inspector, I’ve just received word from one of our footmen returning from town. Floodwaters have submerged multiple portions of track north and south of Harrow, and there are several trees that have come down along the route to town. Travel is not advised at this time.”
The cramp present in Jasper’s stomach since receiving the solicitor’s letter started to feel permanent.Of course,they would be prevented from leaving Cowper Hall. He kept his displeasure from showing as Decamp continued, “His lordship will have rooms prepared for you and Miss Spencer.”
