Julia’s cab had crawled through the streets, halting at almost every intersection by bobbies waving lanterns. She arrived home just as Inspector Tennant paid off his cab. He opened her door.
“Perfect timing,” Julia said, handing her driver some coins. “But that was a dreadful ride from Whitechapel.”
Inside, Mrs. Ogilvie took Tennant’s coat and hat. “Doctor Lewis is just back,” she said. “He’ll not change for dinner. Just out of his boots and into his smoking jacket.”
“Good. I’ll eat as I am,” Julia said, handing Kate her cape and medical bag. “Come into the library, Richard, and I’ll pour you a drink.”
Julia turned up the oil lamp on the console table and gaveTennant an appraising glance, not liking what she saw. His face was thinner than ever with deeper lines etched his cheeks. He’d labored up the steps behind her, concealing his efforts as best he could.
“You look tired,” she said. “Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Oh, the usual.”
“Hmm … I’m not sure that’s an answer.”
“It’s been a bloody awful day.”
He rarely swore, at least not in front of her. “Tell me about it.”
“I made a man relive his worst memory.” He told her about the former constable at the pub.
“Have you considered …”In for a penny,Julia thought. “It helps to talk about past pain. Bottling it up doesn’t work. Remember, you told me that once.”
“Easier to give advice,” he said lightly. Then he walked to the fire, raised his hands, and rubbed them.
Not ready yet.Julia had shared her most aching memory, the guilt and remorse she felt over Helen’s suicide in medical school. She’d caught glimpses of Tennant’s pain in his father’s public disgrace, entangled as he was in a financial scandal. And from Aunt Caroline, she’d heard about a broken romance. But he had shared little about himself with her.
Julia poured a whisky and carried it to him. “Consider this a doctor’s prescription.” But when he reached for the glass, she set it on the mantel instead. She took his right hand and turned it over.
“The wound has healed,” she said, frowning. “But it’s difficult to know what’s happening inside with the muscles and tendons. Push against my palm with your fingers, one at a time.” He followed her instructions. “Do you feel any weakness?”
When he didn’t answer, Julia looked up. She stood there, holding his hand while he looked at her. Warmth crept past her shoulders and up her neck.
“Nothing to speak of.” A slight smile warmed his eyes.
She felt the color creep into her face, released his hand, and looked away. “Well … that’s good.”
Julia stood awkwardly for a moment before retrieving his glass and passing it to him. Then she retreated to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a sherry, spilling a little onto the foot of the glass.
Mrs. Ogilvie entered the room with a dish of olives. “Doctor Lewis is in the cellar, looking for a special bottle of claret. Is there anything else you need, Doctor Julie?”
“No, I don’t think … Wait, yes. I left a cable for the inspector in my medical bag.”
“I’ll ask Kate to find it.”
After Mrs. Ogilvie left, Tennant said, “A cable? Intriguing. Is that what you want to discuss?”
Julia had initiated a line of inquiry without consulting him, and it had been a contentious issue in the past. She knew she occupied vulnerable ground. She decided to go on the offensive.
Julia set her sherry down and crossed her arms. “Have you ever hired a domestic servant, Richard?”
“No.” He shrugged. “Hannah manages everything in Kent. I supposed you’d say I inherited my London housekeeper. Mrs. Markham came with my grandmother’s house.”
“So, you’ve never interviewed a skivvy or a parlor maid?”
“The housekeepers take care of all that.” He set his glass on the table. “Julia, what is this about?”
“Another reason why the Yard should hire female coppers.”
