Alastair’s expression softened further. “Always.” His voice was quieter now.
He let out a breath, shaking his head as if the moment had caught him off guard. “I saved the certificate as a memento… but it wasn’t real.”
Yet, at the time, it hadfeltreal.
Alastair’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “My uncle believed I had replaced him as heir—with a son who, in his eyes, would tarnish our family’s bloodline. He didn’t approve.”
Daisy met the inspector’s stare, swallowing the anger rising in her throat. “Your bobbies tried to killHis Graceweeks ago,” she added, her voice shaking. She explained what she’d overheard the morning she’d found Alastair near death—their talk of reporting to a lord, how they’d stolen a ring from his hand. “If you press Mr. Giles during questioning, I have no doubt he’ll confirm it.”
Alastair stiffened beside her. “My uncle was wearing that ring when I confronted him earlier,” he said, his voice low, vibrating with restrained fury.
Inspector Barrington’s brows shot up. “A ducal ring?”
Alastair’s jaw tightened. “My ducal ring—the one I’ve worn since my father passed.”
The inspector let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “Nasty business whenever nobs are involved. Your uncle is under house arrest for now, but it looks like I’ll have to bring him in.”
Daisy’s stomach lurched. “He hired men to abduct his own nephew—and then ordered an innocent boy killed.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
The inspector’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “True. And we mustn’t let disgruntled heirs get away with this sort of thing, now can we?” He sighed. “Is there anything else you wish to add to your statement?”
Gilbert, who had been silent until now, lifted his chin. “You need better bobbies if you want people to trust the police,” he said. “That uniform ought to mean something.”
The inspector’s expression flickered—whether with shame or frustration, Daisy wasn’t sure. “I couldn’t agree with you more, young man, but I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up with the commissioner.”
Alastair straightened. “We’ll be sure to do that.”
“Thank you, inspector,” Daisy added.
“If we think of anything else, we’ll send for you,” Alastair said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
And with that, the inspector was effectively dismissed.
As the man approached the door, Alastair slid his arm around Daisy’s shoulders.
“I’ll help with the dead one,” Gilbert announced, far too eagerly. “I’ll bet I’m the only boy at school to see one get shot.”
The inspector, visibly taken aback, froze mid-step and gave Gilbert a long, assessing look. “That won’t be necessary.”
Daisy couldn’t allow herself to dwell on the body in her kitchen—not now. Too much had happened in what should have been a simple, ordinary morning.
Which reminded her?—
“School!” She turned to her brother. “You’re terribly late,aren’t you?” Her voice faltered, thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
It was because of her that he had been in danger.
“It wasn’t your fault, Dais. And I’m perfectly fine.” Her brother straightened his shoulders, clearly proud of how he’d handled himself. “Besides, I have that test on Locke this afternoon. Drat, the book has blood on it now. How am I going to explain that to my professor?”
Alastair smirked. “Tell him you saved your sister’s life with it. That ought to earn you extra credit.”
“Yes, tell him the truth,” Daisy added, still too overwhelmed to think of anything more creative.
Gilbert was already on his feet, and the inspector rushed after him, leaving Daisy and Alastair alone.
Daisy exhaled slowly, wrapping her arms around herself as if that might steady her.
“It wasn’t fate,” she finally said after the door clicked shut. “Finding you that day.”
