“Yes, very hard.” I cleared my throat. “He died three years ago this summer. It was very tragic and sudden.” I lifted a finger to my eye and pretended to wipe a tear away. Eloise and I had come up with an explanation about my supposed widowhood, and I had used it often. I was a very poor liar, and I prayed he couldn’t see me in the dim light to gauge my lie. It weighed heavily on me, and my stomach churned.
“I’m very sorry to hear that. When did you marry him?”
“Three years ago.” Eloise and I had debated what would be believable. At six and twenty, it would make sense that I had been widowed young. “William was a wonderful husband.”
“You married him, and he died in the same year?”
The fire in my cheeks flamed brighter at my blunder. I rubbed at my temple, trying to gain control over my panicked mind. Matching wits with someone who interrogated people for a living was challenging and kept me on my toes. If I wasn’t the object of his curiosity, I would be impressed by his logical mind. “Yes, it was sudden. Influenza. Very sad. I am afraid I will never get over the loss.”
“How very tragic. Forgive my prying into your personal affairs. I can’t help myself, it would seem.”
I laughed at his quip. While I was uncomfortable with my life being scrutinized, I rather liked him. “I suppose it is an occupational hazard.”
“Yes, I have lost potential friends because I am nosy, as Moran is fond of pointing out.” Inspector Ashton leaned back in his seat and tapped his thumb on his leg.
“As I said, he thinks I am bossy, which I freely admit. I guess we all have flaws.”
The carriage began to slow down, the steady clop of the horse’s hoofs lessening. He shrugged and moved his thumb with more speed. “We are all inherently flawed. Has no other gentleman caught your fancy?”
My pulse picked up. Surely he wasn’t interested in me? I had a lackluster season, and although I wasn’t unfortunate to look at, I was often overlooked by men. “No, no other gentlemen.”
Yet another lie. Moran had caught my attention in a way I hadn’t expected. I clutched at my reticle, my mind spinning with more questions.
The driver pulled in front of the boarding house. I had never been so relieved in my life. “It appears we have arrived.”
“Yes, it does. I will see you to your door.”
“Really Inspector, that isn’t necessary.” My sisters were home, and the younger ones might inadvertently say something to give away the game.
“Quite the contrary.” He opened the door and hopped down, holding his hand out to me. “And please, call me Ash. Everyone does.”
“Do they indeed?” I wasn’t sure if it was wise to become that familiar with him. Staring at his hand, I had no option but to place my palm in his. Our eyes locked, and an unwelcome warmth spread throughout my body, settling between my legs. Once my feet hit the ground, I snatched my hand back.
The terrace house was rather unassuming. My landlady stood in front of the house with what looked like a very heavy bundle in her arms. Ash rushed to her side. “Here, allow me,” he said, taking the bundle from her.
Mrs. Tucker smiled with familiarity at Ashton. “Thank you, Constable Ashton.”
“It is Inspector, Mrs. Tucker.” I corrected the woman as I opened the outer door. She looked so frail that a slight breeze might blow her over.
“Who is an inspector?” Mrs. Tucker glanced from me to Ash, confusion in her watery brown eyes. She was hard of hearing, and I suspected her memory was slipping. I tried to assist her whenever possible, and Eloise often brought her leftovers. She had done me a valuable service by allowing me to rent a flat in her home.
“Shall we go inside?” I lifted my voice and pointed to the door.
“In a moment, dear.” Mrs. Tucker frowned and looked around the stairs. “I seemed to have misplaced my package.”
“I have it, Mrs. Tucker.” Ashton shifted the bundle in his arms and placed his hand under her elbow. Kindness rested inhis eyes. My heart tilted a bit more in his direction. “If you lead the way, I will take it inside for you.”
“What a dear boy. Are you Mrs. Worth’s suitor now?” Mrs. Tucker asked, taking the stairs to her flat on the first floor. She walked slowly and methodically to compensate for a slight limp.
My cheeks flamed. “No, he is not. He is simply seeing me safely home.”
“He was always such a good lad, a bit cheeky but good.” Mrs. Tucker stopped before her door and turned to look at us. Frowning, she said, “Did you need something, dearie?”
“Your package.” Ashton shared a concerned look with me.
“Yes, you mustn’t forget it.” I shook my head at the silent question and took Mrs. Tucker’s key from her fingers as she fumbled with the lock. She had nobody in her life, and I often wondered if I would follow the same path. Choosing not to marry would mean no children. With my life choices, that would be my one regret.
