A shadow flickered across his face. “Joanna, there is much we need to—”
The door burst open.
“Are you coming with us to the hotel or not?” Evie demanded, her expression vexed. “Mrs. Benedict and I have been waiting downstairs forhours.”
“Oh, it hasn’t been hours.” Joanna frowned when she saw that Kincaid was now all the way on the other side of the room by the window. Given his quickness, and his abhorrence for being caught in any sort of intimate position with her, she supposed she was lucky he wasn’t on the roof. But how nice it would have been if he’d stayed right where he was.
“Well it’s been a long time and—what on earth happened to your hair?” Evie gasped.
Joanna touched the bun. “It…fell out.”
“It fellout?” She looked at Kincaid in suspicion. “I do not want to speculate what you two were doing up here, but I am nearly positive it wasn’t proper. Jo, let us go. I can fix that nest on your head in the carriage. We’ve reservations, and Mrs. Benedict said the host is very strict with them. If we miss our table, it will be given to someone else!”
“The horror,” Joanna said dryly. Gathering her coat, hat, and gloves, she slipped back into her ankle boots, then slanted Kincaid a glance. “Would you be kind enough to accompany us to the door?”
Together, they reached the receiving parlor where Mrs. Benedict was fretfully pacing.
“Thereyou are,” she said, visibly relieved. “Our hansom cab is waiting.”
“Our apologies, my sister and the detective were discussing the case,” Evie said smoothly.
“Oh! Have you managed to locate the ring yet?” Mrs. Benedict asked Kincaid. “So tragic, what happened.”
“Not yet,” said Kincaid. “Although I have a solid lead.”
“Youdo?” Joanna and Evie said in unison.
“What didn’t you tell me?” Joanna demanded.
“I was going to,” he said meaningfully, “but we discussed theothercase instead.”
“Ah, yes. The…the other case,” she said as her cheeks warmed.
Evie’s gaze swept back and forth between them before she grabbed Joanna’s arm. “Whatever it is will have to wait until tomorrow, because our table will not. Goodbye, Mr. Kincaid. It was nice to meet you at last.”
“You as well, Miss Thorncroft.” He tipped his head at Joanna. “Miss Thorncroft.”
“Joanna” she mouthed over her shoulder as Evie dragged her away.
She thought—but couldn’t be sure—that Kincaid smiled.
Chapter Seventeen
The sun sanklow over the Thames, painting the sky a vivid red as Kincaid made his way home. There was a spring in his step. A lightness in his heart. And his mouth…his mouth hurt, actually.
Bemused, Kincaid stopped in front of a store shop window and glanced at his reflection. Why, he wasgrinning, he realized. And doing so was deploying muscles that he hadn’t used in years.
How…strange.
Or maybe it wasn’t strange at all. Maybe this was how people weresupposedto feel. When they were happy. Which he was. For the first time in a long time, mayhap in forever, he washappy.
As a child, abandoned and unloved, he hadn’t known happiness. He thought he’d found it with Scotland Yard, but now that he looked back, he wasn’t so sure.
He had been driven, certainly. Driven to succeed. Driven to make a difference. Driven to bloody wellsurvive. But all of that meaningless death and disregard for human life had already started to take its toll well before he tendered his resignation.
He thought he was happy with Lavinia. And he was. In the beginning. Yet, if he was being completely honest with himself, a part of him had always known, or at the very least suspected, that something wasn’t right. Because love, true love, did not come with attachments or ultimatums. Which was all Lavinia had ever given him. That, and a lasting distrust for all members of the opposite sex.
Then he’d started his own business. Where he was, if not happy, at least content. And that contentment had sufficed.
