Page 76 of The Murder of Thomas Cardwell
Barnaby considered that, then looked at Stokes. “We need to catch him off guard so he has no chance of destroying that evidence.”
Stokes nodded. “We should plan to have his arrest and a major search occur virtually simultaneously.”
“We need,” Jordan stated with a glance at Ruth, “to learn what fact was powerful enough to spur a man like Keeble to kill to hide it.”
Barnaby looked at the faces around him. “We’re almost there, and it’s Sunday. Given our enforced hiatus, I suggest we should take the time for a pre-celebratory luncheon at Johnson’s.”
Johnson’s Steak House was an eatery nearby of the sort where O’Donnell, Morgan, and Walsh could join the party.
Penelope smiled and rose. “I agree.” She took Barnaby’s arm. “And after enjoying our well-deserved reward for all our hard work thus far, we can make our plans for tomorrow and discuss how best to ensure we learn all of Keeble’s secrets.”
After enjoying the camaraderie about the shared luncheon table, Jordan hailed a hackney and escorted Ruth home to Finsbury Circus.
After descending from the carriage, Ruth glanced at the house, then looked at the park and tipped her head toward the walks beneath the trees. “Can we sit in the park for a little while?” She blushed. “If you have time, that is.”
“I have time.” Jordan reached for her hand and wound her arm in his and turned their steps across the cobbles.
As they passed into the cool shade beneath the trees, many now bursting into leaf, Ruth sighed. “I feel so…discombobulated. Uplifted by the news that we know who the murderer is, then I think of Thomas—” She broke off, then went on, her voice softer, “It’s so strange. I feel like he’s still here, and in my head, I’m turning to tell him…about his murderer.”
Jordan glanced at her face, then steered her to an unoccupied bench.
She sat, and he sat beside her, and as they looked out at the well-tended lawn, he closed one of his hands about one of hers. Gently. In support.
She didn’t seem to mind.
After a moment, she shifted her hand and lightly returned the pressure of his fingers. “Learning why Thomas died is important to me and the family. We can’t put his death behind us—can’t come to any sort of terms with it—without knowing why.”
She paused, then went on, “I’m also concerned for Gibson, and Harrison and Josh. Josh… He’s never shared his father’s avidity regarding social status. Because of his mother, Josh was, in a way, born to a higher rank than his father. She might have died when he was young, yet she’s clearly had a lasting impact on how Josh sees himself. He’s not obsessed with social climbing at all.”
Jordan nodded. “I’ve only met him in passing, but he didn’t strike me as thinking in such terms.” He glanced sideways at Ruth. “He didn’t seem at all like Keeble. Not fussy or particular or trying to show he’s special in some way.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “I hope that Gibson and Harrison will stand by Josh.”
Jordan gently squeezed her hand. “If they do, you can be there for them. All three of them. They’ll need others to stand beside them.”
Ruth turned her fine blue eyes on him. “Will you?”
Jordan blinked.
Ruth smiled wistfully. “They look up to you, you know. You’re the much older brother who knows what he’s doing with his life, and they don’t. They still haven’t worked that out, but interacting with you, they realize that they can and, eventually, must.”
“And will,” Jordan said. “They’re not silly, any of them. They’ll find their way if they search for it.”
“I rather think,” Ruth said, “that Fate has decreed that knowing you will be a pivotal point on their journey.”
“You give me too much credit,” Jordan said, feeling faint heat in his cheeks.
“I don’t think I do.” Ruth sighed. “But I’m dillydallying over what I wanted to ask you.”
Surprised, Jordan looked at her. “Ask away. I told you earlier—and I meant it—that with anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask.”
“In that case”—a small smile played across Ruth’s lips—“I wanted to ask if you would…stay.” She met his eyes. “Stay and see this through with me. Stay…and see where this leads.” She glanced down at their linked hands, then raised her gaze to meet his. “I don’t know what might come of this”—with her free hand,she waved between them—“but I do know that I want to find out.”
“As do I.” Jordan raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, then raised his eyes to hers. “I will stay. Gladly. Like you, I don’t know what might be, but I am very certain that I want to learn what the future could hold.”
The rattle of a carriage’s wheels had them turning to watch as a hackney drew up before the Cardwells’ house. Gibson stepped down, paid the jarvey, then head hanging, shoulders slumped, walked up the steps and went inside.
Ruth looked at Jordan. “Will you come inside and help me explain what the investigators have found?”
