Page 68 of A Murder in Mayfair
And with that parting shot, he made his exit. Moments later, the front door closed with a muffled thud.
As silence pressed in, I faced Steele. “That was very well done," I said aloud, my voice steady, cool—the sort one might use when commenting on a well-executed speech in Parliament, not a personal triumph witnessed from a breath away.
But privately, traitorously, the truth flared within me.He’d been magnificent.
Not just his strategy or poise, though those alone would merit the word. It washim. The quiet force of his presence. The sharp edge of his mind. The way he shielded Julia—a womanhe barely knew—without seeking thanks or recognition. I saw it now, all of it, and the revelation left me breathless.
And frightened.
Because I had begun to think of him not merely as a partner in enquiry or necessity, but as something more. And that was a risk I hadn’t accounted for.
“I know the law, Lady Rosalynd,” he said quietly, cutting into my thoughts.
“You held off Dodson today, but I doubt he’ll give up,” I said.
“Weheld him off,” he corrected. “I heard what you said to him. You were holding your own.” He drew in a breath, steadying himself. “But you're right. Dodson won’t stop. Not only is he under pressure to solve Walsh’s murder, but he sees this investigation as an opportunity to wound me.”
“Because you tried to have him demoted.”
He nodded. “Revenge is a powerful motivator. He’ll stop at nothing. And that means he’ll do everything he can to implicate Nicky. He knows the way to get to him is through Lady Walsh. In her condition, she might very well confess to something she hasn’t done—especially if she believes it could protect her unborn child.”
He paused, the line of his jaw tightening. “Hanover must be informed. He’ll know what measures can be taken to safeguard Lady Walsh. The sooner, the better.”
“I’ll send a footman with a note.”
He inclined his head.
“Do you think Dodson actually has evidence against Nicholas?”
“If he doesn’t, he can fabricate it. Not the murder weapon, but a witness? That’s another matter entirely. He’ll have no trouble finding someone willing to lie to stay out of prison.” He gestured toward the streak of white in his dark hair. “A glimpseof this under a hat, and a thug might swear he saw Nicky just to earn Dodson’s favor.”
A discreet knock at the drawing room door interrupted us, and Mr. Honeycutt appeared once more. “Forgive me, milady, Lady Walsh has need of you.”
“Yes, of course.” I glanced at the duke. “I must go.”
“One more thing before you do,” the duke said.
I glanced at our butler. “Please tell Lady Walsh I’ll be with her in a moment.”
After he departed, closing the door behind him, I turned to the duke. “Yes?”
“See to her, of course,” Steele said. “But don’t linger. There’s something else that needs to be done. Today.”
“What?”
“You need to visit Walsh House. Speak with the staff. We need to know exactly what happened from the moment that packet of tea arrived.”
“The tea Lady Julia sent Charles?”
He nodded. “Who received it? Who handled it? Was it stored or opened? Who brewed it, and did anyone else have access to it before it was steeped? And most importantly—” His gaze sharpened. “Who was present in the house between the tea’s arrival and the moment Charles Walsh drank it?”
I frowned. “You think it was someone in the house?”
“It has to be,” he said quietly.
His certainty sent a chill along my spine. His implication was clear. Someone at Walsh House had murdered Charles.
“After I attend to Julia,” I said, already moving, “I’ll go to Walsh House and find out what happened.”
