Even when he’d caught up to her with her bag, watched as she’d watched the entrance to White’s, he’d been curious not suspicious. So he’d hung back, content to observe what she’d do next, followed her as she’d followed the toff, expecting to be amused by whatever resulted. It hadn’t been until he’d seen her snatched into that alley that any misgivings on his part had been raised.
He should have questioned her presence more. Her appearance at the agency wasn’t random. She was up to something. And she was in trouble. That had been no random attack on the street, not in broad daylight with the attacker so swaddled not even his mother could identify him.
The doctor rose from his seat beside the bed, his knees creaking. “She needs rest. I’ll leave a sleeping draught she can take if necessary.” He dug through his satchel and came up with a vial.
Mrs. Farran bustled up to take it. “I’ll make sure she stays in bed.”
Charles’s shoulders went back. It was his job to take care of her. Though he couldn’t remain by her bedside while she healed, not if he was to catch the fucking slag who’d done this. And he would, just as soon as he knew what Cassie was involved in.
The doctor shuffled to the bedroom door. “She shouldn’t use her voice if she can help it.”
“Bloody convenient,” Charles muttered. Of course, now when he needed her to talk, she had a medically approved reason not to. Well, he’d find some damn paper and make her write it down. She would answer his questions.
Cassie gave him a reproachful look before waving goodbye to the doctor. There was some commotion at the door as the man tried to leave just as someone else was entering. After a couple of side steps and chuckles, he stepped back and Lady Mary swept inside.
The sole maid in the house gave a belated announcement. “Lady Mary here to see you.”
“Thank you, Peggy,” Mrs. Farran said. “Please see the doctor out, will you?”
The maid nodded and shut the door behind them as they left. A heavy silence fell upon the room.
“Well.” Lady Mary strode to the window and pulled the curtains wide, letting in the watery, late-afternoon light. Even with her cane, she managed to move briskly. “Now that the pudding has hit the floor, are you certain you still wish to remain in London?” She stepped to Cassie and laid her hand on her shoulder. “You can always go back home.”
Charles ground his jaw to keep from objecting. He didn’t know where Cassie’s home was, but he knew it wasn’t near him.
Christ, he didn’t even know where she called home. He’d never thought to ask. What a pitiful excuse of an investigator he made. Though, he hadn’t thought he needed to investigate his assistant.
Cassie shook her head. “No,” she said hoarsely, “I don’t—”
“The doctor said no talking.” Charles leaned over the foot of the bed and rested his palms beside her feet. Every time she spoke, it drew his gaze to her throat, and the ugly marks that marred her flesh. Every time she spoke he was reminded of how close she had come to death. The fabric of the coverlet bunched inside his hands.
Cassie frowned. She pointed at the writing desk in the corner of the room, and Mrs. Farran hurried over to collect a piece of paper and a bit of lead. She handed them to Cassie.
She used a book on the bedside table as a makeshift desk and scribbled. She held the paper out to Lady Mary.
The older woman took it then sniffed. “Well, if you are determined to stay your course—”
“What course is that?” Charles bit out. Everyone seemed to know a secret but him, and it was starting to piss him off.
Cassie took the paper back and bent her head over it.
“Perhaps it would be easier if I explained?” Lady Mary flicked the edge of the paper. “I don’t think there’s enough room on there for your story.”
Cassie nibbled on her bottom lip, darted a glance at Charles, then nodded.
Lady Mary pressed her cane into the rug, leaning heavily on it. “Our Cassandra had a sister. Lydia. She was murdered five years ago at a ball thrown by Lady Stockton.”
Charles blinked. “What?” He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but that shocking news hadn’t been it.
“It was all hushed up of course.” Lady Mary sniffed again. “Too dreadful a scandal, even for the gossip mongers of the ton. Cassie’s father knew, but it wasn’t until recently that Cassie discovered the secret.”
“Which brought the poor dear here.” Mrs. Farran bustled to the opposite side of the bed and began fluffing the pillows behind Cassie. “She came to look for her sister’s killer.”
Cassie’s mouth dropped open. “You knew?” she whispered.
“I told her when I arranged for you to stay here,” Lady Mary said. “The chance of you bringing any danger home was minimal, but still, there was a chance. Mrs. Farran had a right to know who she was letting a room to.”
Cassie dropped her chin to her chest. “Of course, I hadn’t thought….”
