Chapter Sixteen
Sebastian hurried toward his office, his heart uncharacteristically racing with the knowledge that Jocelyn was waiting for him there. He’d been sure to keep himself busy elsewhere all afternoon, not wanting to appear too pathetically eager to see her, but that had meant that he’d been down in the dead room speaking to Dr. Lockwood when she arrived. Just because his main focus was The Viper didn’t mean that murders didn’t occur in Bethnal Green all the time. Now, he feared he’d kept her waiting for too long.
Shaking his head at himself, he stopped in front of his door, taking a deep breath and composing himself a bit before walking in.
“Good afternoon, Lady Aston,” he murmured as he walked around his desk and took his chair facing her, though it felt a bit strange to once again be addressing her so formally after everything they’d shared. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“I understand,” she murmured, staring at his desk as though unable to meet his gaze, her fair cheeks blushing. A tendril of her auburn hair had come loose from her neat chignon to drift along her jaw, and he wanted to tuck it behind her ear. “I know you’re very busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you,” he said, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. He felt his own cheeks heat at the truth of them and was suddenly glad she wasn’t looking at him. “I appreciate you coming down here. And I promise, I’ll try my best not to upset you again.”
She bit her lip and finally lifted her gaze. “I overreacted. I know you were just doing your job. I’ll try not to take your questions so personally.”
This was all so polite. He supposed he should be glad of that, but a part of him wanted to be anything but polite. He wanted to get back to the ease that had existed between them that first day they’d spent together. The jokes and sarcasm, the sexual tension and flirtation.
Clearing his throat, he shuffled a few piles of paper around needlessly, then grabbed a pencil and his little notebook that he took with him everywhere. “To your knowledge, did your sister ever turn down a marriage proposal?”
Her green eyes widened with surprise. That obviously hadn’t been the question she was expecting. “There was always an understanding when we were children that she’d marry Mortimer Blackstone,” she said, sending his heart racing for an entirely new reason. “But I don’t think he ever actually asked her. Her first Season was not very successful, and I think Mortimer decided he could do better.” She grimaced. “I never much cared for Mortimer, though I was quite close with Drake when I was younger.”
“Why wasn’t Evelyn’s Season a success?” he asked gently. “She was a lovely girl. I’m sure she had a sizable dowry.”
“Our dowries weren’t as large as you might expect,” she said quietly, flushing even more. “Our father had some problems with gambling. Lord Aston was willing to overlook that since he did not need my dowry and cared more about my breeding. But I imagine Mortimer thought differently.”
“Do you think he was in need of a cash infusion?” he asked, his suspicions of his superior’s brother growing.
She shrugged prettily. “Perhaps. But the other reason Evelyn’s debut did not go as well as it could have was simply because she didn’t try. She did not want to make a match, so she gladly became a wallflower. She did everything possible to make herself invisible to the men of the ton.”
“She did not want to get married?” he asked, wondering why it surprised him so much. Of course, there were women who did not want to get married. He’d been married to one himself. Marina had never been suited to the life of a wife or mother. She seemed to have married him on a whim because that’s what was expected of her, but she’d obviously regretted it almost immediately. Still, society left women, especially ladies, little other choice.
“She did not.” Jocelyn sighed, shifting nervously in her seat. “I have something to tell you, something quite shocking. I’m willing to do so because I want you to be able to focus your attention in a different direction than trying to find out which men Evelyn was... in a relationship with. But if I do so, you have to promise me that what I tell you does not leave this office. It is for your information only, because I trust you, and I know you will not misuse the knowledge.”
Intrigued, and humbled by her trust, he stood and went to the door, closing and locking it, trying to pretend he hadn’t wanted to do so all along. He sat back down, giving her his full attention. “I promise I will keep whatever secret you choose to tell me. Your trust means the world to me, Jocelyn.”
She stood and walked to the lone window, staring out at the street below. “I’m sure you are aware that there are people who... feel an attraction to those of their same sex?”
“Yes,” he said very carefully, wondering where she was going with this. “I’m aware of that.”
“Well, my sister Evelyn was one of those people. She was very in love with someone... just not a man. So I am absolutely certain that she was not what you said, that she did not have any secret lovers other than the one I am aware of. She was in love with my nanny, Abbie Morton. If you need to speak to her, she is willing to tell you whatever she knows. In fact, she is the one who told me I needed to tell you this. But if you do talk to her, just... be kind. She is grieving, too.”
Sebastian sat back in his chair, stunned. Of course, he had heard of such things, but rarely among women and never among women of Evelyn’s class.
It did not escape him that Abbie’s surname began with the letter M, but of course, it was preposterous to even put her on the suspect list. The things that had been done to Evelyn were not what one woman would do to another.
Jocelyn remained by the window, her back stiffening more with each moment as she obviously waited for him to say something hurtful about the sister she’d loved so much. No wonder she’d been so convinced it was not one of her sister’s lovers who’d killed her. He thought of the nanny at the funeral, the grief she’d done nothing to hide, and felt a wave of pity for the woman.
But maybe he was wrong. He’d known since his army days that there was no end to the horrors that one person could do to another. He had at least had to talk to Miss Morton before he ruled her out.
Pushing to his feet, he crossed the room in several long strides, knowing instinctively that Jocelyn needed to be held right now more than she needed any sort of platitudes. He pulled her back against him, and she sank into him with a little sob, turning in his arms and pressing her face against his chest.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “I don’t think any less of her. We can’t choose who we love.” The moment he said the words, he realized how true they were. His attraction and care for this lovely slip of a woman made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t fight it. He couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t exist.
How had his thoughts on the matter changed so drastically in such a short time? He could only suppose that he hadn’t believed in love before because he’d never felt it. He’d always had a hard time taking things on faith. He’d seen too much ugliness to truly believe in the beauty he was experiencing with this woman.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I was so afraid to tell you. Afraid of what you might think. But they were so sweet together. If you’d known them, you’d understand that it was a good thing for both of them. I don’t want it in the papers. I don’t want people gossiping and turning it into something ugly.”
“No one else has to know,” he assured her. “I promise I’ll keep this to myself.”
“I know,” she whispered with a shuddering sigh. “I do trust you, Sebastian. I’m sorry I told you to leave the other day. That was the last thing I truly wanted. The only time I feel all right is when I’m in your arms. I just haven’t been thinking clearly—”