“Not anywhere,” I said quietly. “But wider than your line suggests.”
Her gaze remained fixed on the map, but I could see the strain in her expression, the fierce effort not to be overwhelmed by it.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek, forcing her attention back to me. “Rosalynd. We will find it,” I said.
She looked up. For a moment, something raw and unguarded showed in her expression.
“We cannot let another girl end in a ledger,” she said. “We cannot.”
“No.” The word came out more like a vow than I intended. “We will not.”
Our gazes held. Her pupils had widened, whether from the lamplight or the hour or from anger, I could not say. The air between us felt charged. One unwise movement might tilt it into something neither of us could claim as accidental.
A sharp knock on the door snapped the moment in two.
Rosalynd drew back at once. I lifted my head.
“Come,” I said.
Milford entered with an envelope on a tray. His expression had taken on that particular set I had learned to dislike, the one that meant unpleasant news had arrived.
“Forgive the interruption, Your Grace. This arrived from Scotland Yard. The messenger insisted it was urgent.”
My hand closed around the envelope. The paper crackled. I broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet inside.
The hand was untidy, the ink blotched. The meaning came through clearly enough.
A body was found in the river. Female. Approximate age similar to the last. Recovered further down this time. Brought to the Lambeth mortuary. Coroner notified. Inquest to be convened.
I let out a slow breath. Looked up.
“The river has given them another,” I said.
Rosalynd’s face had gone very pale. “Lady Honora?”
“Unknown.” I folded the note. “But whatever the Commissioner believes, I do not think this is an accident. Someone is intentionally killing these young women.”
Rosalynd’s hand pressed to the edge of the table, as though she needed to steady herself. Her eyes lifted to mine, fierce despite the shock. “This cannot go on. We have to stop it.” There was no trace of fear in her voice. Only resolve.
“We will.” As the words left my mouth, I knew them for truth. Not hope. Not bravado.
Whoever had been feeding girls to the Thames, I would find him. I would drag him into the light. And I would end this horror—once and for all.
Chapter
Twenty
The Ledger of the Dead
The Commissioner’s note lay folded on the table like a stain, the words still echoing in my head as though I had not merely read them but swallowed them whole.
Another body was found on the Thames.
Beyond the curtains of Steele’s study, London slept on—oblivious, indifferent, and safe in its ignorance. But I could not forget the river. The Thames herself had become an accomplice.
Steele’s gaze held mine across the table, steady and unflinching. His certainty should have comforted me. Instead, it only sharpened the urgency until I could scarcely bear to sit still another moment.
“Where was the body taken?” I asked. “Exactly?”
