Rain fell, hitting the windowpane. Winter had always been hard for me. My father had died right after Christmas, and I missed him every day.
A child ran down the street, laughing as a man scooped her up. I caught my smile in the reflection of the glass. That’s what I wanted, a family to call my own.
Ash andhisfamily became my family after my father died. I had a place to go with people who loved me. My uncle Nigel and my cousin Phillip were cold calculating men without a bone of compassion between them. I was better off not having them in my life.
Mrs. Worth had a large family, all girls. Ash had spoken fondly of them. A built-in family. He and Mrs. Worth had already developed a kinship. Restlessness overcame me. I went to the door and opened it. Mrs. Worth looked up, the curls that fell to her shoulders bouncing.
“I do not wish to be disturbed for at least an hour. I will be boxing and, well, we both know what happened the last time.” Ifought the heat rushing to my cheeks. It was my office and I had the right to do as I wished.
“I will refrain from bothering you until you say it is all right.” Her face held a pretty flush, which made me even more eager to take out my frustrations on the punching bag.
I closed the door once more before I stripped off my coat. Sparring invigorated me, and I needed to take the edge off my unrest. Would Ash try to court her even though I asked him not to? I had no business telling him or her whom they could have romantic feelings for, except the thought of them courting didn’t sit well with me. Life had taught me it wasn’t fair, and I could only wait and see what happened.
Chapter Sixteen
Inspector Liam Ashton
I plopped the last report in the basket on my desk. My job had multiple challenges, but the paperwork tugged on my last nerve. Two inspectors passed by me in conversation, one nodding in greeting. Sitting back in my desk chair, I rubbed a hand over my forehead. After another late shift the night before, I was looking forward to visiting Moran, having a glass of scotch, and perhaps sharing a mutual spunking. My interlude with him hadn’t drifted far from my mind.
Stark cut across the office and headed straight to my desk. The dark blue suit fit his slender frame, and his hair was combed back with pomade. My shoulders crept up near my ears, and I tried to tamp down the unexpected apprehension. Why he still had that effect on me was puzzling. He’d shown himself to be fair-minded. My distrust of his grandfather still colored my opinion of him. Unfair but true. “Inspector Ashton, a word if you please.”
Stark turned on his heel and went back the way he’d come. He hadn’t sounded upset, yet he wasn’t smiling. My stare locked on the back of his head, I followed him into his office. There were countless reasons why he would ask to see me. I was still hypersensitive about Brown’s foundation and the threat it created to Moran. It wasn’t practical to jump to conclusionsabout the reasons for him wishing to see me. I would find out soon enough.
Stark waved toward the chair across from his desk, and I took the proffered seat. The office was warm after the coolness of the common room where my desk was situated. I unbuttoned my greatcoat, the material falling to the side of my legs, and waited for him to speak.
“I have a personal favor to ask you.” Stark took his seat in the rolling chair, resting his elbows on the desktop. He glanced down, a touch of color flushing his cheeks before he met my gaze. “And do not feel obligated to agree. I understand from your father that your family has been in Cheapside for multiple generations, and you’re very familiar with the neighborhood and its merchants.”
“Yes, I am very familiar with the neighborhood and most of the people who live there.” Before I was an inspector, I was a bobby on the street, meeting the locals and hearing about their struggles, as well as their successes. I missed the simplicity of it. While the job was hard, it wasn’t draining like investigating was.
Head tilted, he nodded. “It’s my understanding that you’re very good friends with Mr. Moran at the T.J. Moran Publishing Company.”
Every nerve inside me jumped to attention. I had to force myself to relax. A cool head would go a long way toward assessing the situation. Panicking would do nothing but rattle me. “Yes, Moran has been a friend of mine for many years.”
With the tilt of his head, Stark leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial whisper, said, “My mother’s birthday is coming up, and she would love to have a personalized copy of Mrs. MH Roth’s newest novel.”
His mother was a fan of gothic novels. I muffled a hysterical laugh. From what I could tell about hisgrandfather, the man didn’t approve of works of fiction. Not only was the Ambrosialine fiction, but it was also salacious fiction. I nodded, relief shooting through me. “Yes, I can ask Moran if he can get me an autographed copy for you.”
Leaning back in this chair, he nodded. “Excellent, I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.” His request would give me another reason to seek out Moran. Not that I needed a reason, but he’d be interested in learning of Stark’s request. It was early, and if I played it right, I would call on Moran and see Mrs. Worth. I hadn’t forgotten the evening I had spent with her or the kiss we’d shared. Although I wanted to step out with her again, I would need to step away. She’d made her feelings known, and although I desired her, and her kiss still lingered in my mind, I did not mean it to. Or perhaps I was giving up too easily. Moran had emphasized that he wasn’t interested in her, but I had a sense that he was and thus, I would refrain from being too aggressive.
Stark tapped his pencil against the desktop, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. “I wanted to check in with you on your investigation. I must say how you handled yourself when we talked to the witness impressed me, and I was curious if you’d found out any more information since then.”
I pulled my mind from Mrs. Worth, needing to pay attention to the conversation at hand. To be caught woolgathering wouldn’t do. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve asked some sources to put their ear to the ground, but so far, I haven’t heard anything.” It was one of the most frustrating things about the job, the waiting. The women who died needed vindication, and I was the man to provide it for them. However, it was slow going, and I had to be patient.
