“One of them bit my maid!” Helen cried. “She is terrified of dogs as it is.”
Nadia laughed. “It was a nip. Porthos didn’t even break Dora’s skin.”
As the sisters bickered, the footmen returned with large platters of roasted duck, glazed in an orange sauce. One held the tray to the viscount’s side, offering him the chance to helphimself. The other footman went to Helen’s side. While she took a portion for her plate with shaking hands, the viscount did not. He remained locked in a staring spar with Jasper.
“Perhaps you are right,” Lord Cowper finally said, “and I did not know Gregory well. However, it seems both my daughters certainly did.”
The words themselves might not have implied anything untoward, but the suggestive sound of them curling off his tongue made his meaning obvious. Paired with the mention of Gregory in Francine’s letter and his request for secrecy, Leo’s mind reeled to a stop. She could not reconcile what the viscount was insinuating: that the Inspector and Francine had once been romantically involved.
A swift glance across the table showed Jasper grinding his jaw with stifled fury. He would not react, Leo knew. He was too measured, too cautious to be goaded into making a spectacle of himself. He kept his eyes trained on the viscount until the footman intercepted their staring match by leaning forward next to Jasper’s shoulder, presenting the platter of duck.
The rest of dinner unfolded at a quick pace; the footmen likely related the strain in the dining room to the kitchen staff, and they knew to hurry things along. When it was time for dessert, only Mr. Corman appeared eager to eat his trifle. Lord Cowper tossed down his napkin and shoved back his chair, rising to his feet like a geyser.
“Gentlemen, you are, of course, welcome to join me in the billiards room for a brandy and cigar,” he said, though the invitation sounded hollow and rote. He immediately left, his pace loping but fast for a man of his age.
Helen also stood. “Ladies, shall we?”
Leo wasn’t quite sure what to do. The men and women were now separating to different rooms, as she supposed was their custom. The practices of the titled and wealthy wereoften a mystery to her. She and Jasper locked gazes, and with his solemn nod, she supposed she would follow the viscount’s granddaughter.
The solicitor looked longingly at his barely touched trifle as he and the other men rose from their seats to join the viscount. She didn’t envy Jasper; it would not be a relaxing game of billiards, to be sure. As she approached the door, she and Jasper were able to steal a moment together, his sleeve brushing against hers as they walked side by side. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “See if you can arrange for an interview tomorrow morning with Mrs. Dalton.”
Leo nodded. “I’ll invite her to take breakfast in my sitting room,” she replied under her breath. It was all they had time for; outside the dining room, Jasper peeled off with the other men in a different direction.
She pushed aside the odd sensation of disappointment and the desire to rejoin him. After her decadent bath and then the next few hours spent pacing her bedroom and adjoining sitting room, exasperated to have no immediate purpose, she had longed to know where Jasper was and what he was doing. It was just the same as she’d felt over the last four months spent apart. His letters were surprisingly detailed about Liverpool, his lodgings at Mrs. Hart’s boardinghouse, and his fellow sergeants and constables. But it wasn’t enough. Leo had wanted to be able to see him. Touch him. Feel his sooty green eyes on her. It was a greedy sensation that she wasn’t at all sure she liked, and yet, it was also unstoppable.
Helen led them to the same sitting room in which Leo and Jasper had been sequestered earlier in the afternoon. The fire burned brightly, illuminating the room with a cozy golden glow. Nadia and Millicent went to the settee, and each took an end cushion, smoothing out their black skirts after sitting. Somewhere along the way, the dogs had departed from theirmistress, but as Helen selected a chair and sat, she was just as rigid and unsmiling as she had been at the dinner table. A maid had come into the room and was pouring what appeared to be sherry into cordial glasses.
Leo lowered herself into another chair, and the silence persisted. Millicent propped her elbow upon the arm of the settee and absentmindedly brushed her fingers against the blue silk damask. Only after the maid brought the tray of cordial glasses around and then left them did someone speak.
“Can’t you convince your husband to stop being such a boor all the time?” Nadia asked, directing her question to her sister.
Helen pinched her lips together. “I don’t think this is an appropriate topic to discuss in front of our guest.”
Nadia waved her hand. “It’s not as if Anthony has successfully hidden how ill-tempered he is, especially when he is drunk. Miss Spencer noticed, trust me.” She turned toward Leo and pinned her with a pair of hard brown eyes. “Didn’t you?”
As platitudes were not her forte, Leo replied, “I noticed some discord, yes.”
Nadia crossed her arms and smiled smugly at her sister. “See?”
Helen lifted her chin and turned her head, as if to dismiss them all. Lounging against the other arm of the settee, Millicent sighed heavily. “Nadia, dear, if you had ever married, you might understand that it isn’t so easy to change the nature of a man.”
The affront struck precisely as intended; color bloomed on Nadia’s cheeks.
“Millie, dear,” she replied, parroting the tone Millicent had just used, “If I marry, it won’t be to a man whose nature I regret not being able to change.”
Leo sipped her sherry, observing the three women, happy to be mostly overlooked.
“Lord, but your superiority is exhausting,” Millicent said, setting down her untouched sherry. She got to her feet and, for the first time, addressed Leo. “My apologies that you’ve been subjected to this family. Luckily for you, it is only for one evening. Good night.”
She swept out of the room.
“Oh, poorAuntMillie,” Nadia opined while shaking her head. “See what marrying for a title does, Miss Spencer? I suggest you never consider it.”
“I don’t believe I will ever have reason to, Miss Stroud,” she said, slightly amused by the impractical advice. The only titled person Leo knew was Oliver Hayes, and there was no chance he would offer marriage to her. Nor would she dream of accepting should he do so.
“I imagine it is strange having a woman so close to your own age as an aunt,” Leo said. She was curious about the stark disparity in age between the viscount’s first two children—Emmaline and Francine—and his third, Frederick.
“No stranger than having an uncle who is just a handful of years older than we are,” Nadia replied lightly. She had finished her sherry. Now, with any hope, she would leave, and Helen would remain long enough for Leo to invite her to breakfast the following morning.
