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Jasper grated out a curse under his breath, loving the pressure of her hands on his chest and yet also frustrated by her stubbornness. Frustrated…and undeniably awed.
He gestured toward the door. “After you. You bloody, obstinate woman.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The cabbie whickered to his horse and slowed the cab as it entered the narrow streets of Spitalfields. Leo was grateful Jasper hadn’t wasted time arguing against her accompanying him to the church, but he’d been mostly silent as they drove from Scotland Yard to the East End. His searching eyes had been locked on the window and the streets they were traversing. He had not moved to hold her hand, either, despite their closeness on the single, forward-facing seat.
“Why are you so quiet?” Leo asked. “Are you angry?”
“No. Sorry,” he answered, twisting again to peer out the window. “I thought a carriage was following us at first, but I haven’t seen it in a bit.”
The cab didn’t have a back window to peer through, though Leo still twisted to look through the side opening. There were other cabs and carriages, and plenty of pedestrians, but nothing that stood out as suspicious.
“It’s nothing. I’m being overcautious,” Jasper said. At last, he settled his hand on hers. “Warnock saw me getting out of Andrew’s carriage the other morning at Charing Cross Station.”
Alarm itched through Leo’s veins. “What did you tell him?”
“That I’d taken on a private inquiry. It was a half-truth. An excuse.” He tightened his fingers around hers. “Those are things I despise. I’m not that man, Leo.”
“I know you are not.” A fervent rush of compassion for him flooded her chest. She only wanted to fix what was wrong. But what could she do? She’d lain awake so many nights, pondering how to sever Jasper’s ties with Andrew Carter. No ideas had come… except one: to leave London. But now was not a good time to bring that up. They needed to concentrate on Tabitha Pierce.
A church spire came into view.
“There it is,” Jasper said and rapped on the cab’s roof. The hansom came to a stop.
“Wait here,” he told the cabbie as he and Leo stepped out onto the pavement. The driver shifted uneasily.
“You’ve got five minutes, guv,” he replied.
Leo understood his hesitation. The cabbie had a pocketful of fares; he would soon become a target for thieves if he sat around for any length of time.
The church looked different at night. Cloaked by the darkness, it appeared less tired and worn. Faint light shone cozily through the few stained glass windows facing the street. A pregnant woman, alone and frightened, could easily view a place like it as a sanctuary.
Jasper led them to the arched doors leading into the church, and Leo wasn’t surprised when he opened one without meeting resistance. A house of the Lord was supposed to be unlocked and open for all, at all hours. Though it was late in the evening, she expected they would find at least one or two parishioners. But as they entered the nave, their footsteps echoing into the arched rafters above, the place appeared empty.
Several prayer candles on a stand in a back corner were lit, and ahead, at the altar, a few lanterns flickered. The only other light seemed to be coming from the strange section of glass floor Leo had trodden upon the day before.
She went toward it and, stepping along the perimeter of glass, looked down onto the large marble coffin of the first reverend, Julius Hawthorne. The coffin’s cap was decorated with an ornate gold cross.
Jasper joined her. “The light.” His soft voice bounced through the nave.
Leo saw it too. Light glimmered dully over the side of the coffin and danced along the gold cross. The source was coming from somewhere else within the crypt, out of view.
“Someone is down there,” Leo whispered. She peered into the corners of the nave behind them, searching for a door that could lead below. A slim panel of arched wood neighbored the stand of prayer candles.
She started for it, but Jasper took her arm and held her back before she could twist the small brass knob.
“I will descend first,” he said.
She assented. He was, after all, the one carrying a weapon. He opened the door, and as Leo had hoped, it led to a narrow stairwell leading down. Muted light shone over steep, twisting stone steps. Unholstering his Webley, Jasper started to descend. Leo stayed close on his heels.
They entered a low-ceilinged crypt, much like the one under the morgue, where old coroner’s files, abandoned personal belongings, and storage from the former church were all deposited in a state of disarray. Dank, musty air greeted them. The glass floor above the coffin let in some light, but there was another light source deeper within the crypt, behind arched pilasters.
“Tabitha?” Leo called out, breaking the silence.
The scuffing of shoes on the stone floor came, followed by the extinguishing of the light.
“It is all right to come out, Tabitha. We mean you no harm,” Leo said. She took a few strides into the crypt, made brighter only by the filtered light coming through the glass floor above.
