“You’d be surprised how people suddenly become hesitant about getting involved in anything with a whiff of scandal. And murder is far more than a whiff, my lady.”
A thump at the door gave them notice, and they plainly heard the key turn before the same guard entered.
“Time’s up,” he declared, rattling the large ring of keys for emphasis.
“For you to give to whomever,” she murmured in Thomas’s ear, handing him the pouch from inside her reticule. “When I come again, let me know how much more you need, and I’ll bring it.”
He nodded, briefly hefting the weight of the bag, and slipped it into his pocket.
“This should see me through longer than I hope to be here and provide me all the gristly beef stew I can eat.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging him to her again.
As her brother’s strong arms went around her, tightening briefly to indicate his own feelings, Adelia vowed silently to save him. The alternative was unthinkable.
Chapter Twenty
Mr. Brassel, atlast, and with regret, said he must go to the Court of Chancery, and “waste the rest of my day,” as he told her.
Adelia decided to return to the police station since it was so close to find out the exact day of Lady Sophia’s death. Everything else depended upon such.
Yawning as she was shown into Detective Sergeant Garrard’s office, she rushed to cover her mouth with her gloved hand.
In the space of ten minutes, she accomplished two things. She received the date she needed in order to look in her diary, and she gave the detective information about Miss Moore.
“I know very little about her except she seemed shocked by Lord Burnley’s charges. And she seems to care for my brother.”
With that accomplished, she went home, not having slept since two nights earlier, nor eaten since lunchtime the previous day. With no appetite, however, she lay down on her bed with the curtains drawn against the afternoon light and fell into a deep sleep.
Upon awakening hours later, for a second, she was confused until it all came crashing back into her mind, and she wanted to weep. More than that, she wanted to turn to someone, anyone, for comfort.
How had she come to this age of her life alone and friendless?Perhaps her father had been right to try to beat the shyness out of her.
Before her nap, she’d stripped off her outer garments, considering them soiled by the environment of Newgate, and had given them to Penny to launder. Now, she rang for a bath, hoping after it, her appetite would have returned.
Later, clad in her dressing gown, her hair still damp, she sat by the fire in her bedroom instead of in the dining room, unable to face the empty seat across from hers.
She could not fail Thomas.
*
Previously, Owen hadbeen conflicted about enjoying the company of Lady Adelia while mourning his sister and searching for her killer. Now, it was far worse every time he thought of the woman he’d come to care for.
He’d brought Sophia’s killer to justice, and the courts soon would hand down the earl’s punishment, but Owen’s life seemed extraordinarily empty, nonetheless.
On top of that, Adelia was suffering. He wondered whether she would welcome a visit from him and concluded the answer wasno.
Perhaps she might read a note if he could think of the words to say. She could not possibly have wanted him to let her brother go free from such a heinous crime. Somewhere, deep down, she understood he’d had to put the murderer in prison.
Nevertheless, Owen needed to see her. To that end, he sat in his study and put pen to paper, with aJDwatermark, as it turned out.
What could he say?She would not be going out into society. Of this, he had no doubt, so he could not arrange to see her at a dinner party or a dance. Perhaps she would agree to go riding with him.
Dearest Lady Adelia,
I am unhappy that circumstances in which neither you nor I intentionally played a pivotal role have derailed our burgeoning friendship. I wonder if you might be willing to ride with me in Hyde Park.
Affectionately,
