Page 6 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

“Are you really?” Somehow I doubted it. He was getting a thrill out of hauling my brother to Scotland Yard for questioning.

“Yes, milady. I am.”

I didn’t believe him.

A quarter of an hour later, Cosmos came down the stairs in a black coat, fresh shirt, and polished shoes. Following Dodson’s lead, he stepped into the carriage waiting outside. As I watched it move off in the summer sun, I stood in the open doorway of Rosehaven House without moving for what might have been a minute or an hour.

Honeycutt’s concerned voice came from somewhere behind me. “Shall we fetch someone, milady? The family’s solicitor, perhaps?”

Leave it to Honeycutt to keep a cool head. I turned toward him. “No. Don’t fetch anyone. Don’t tell anyone, until I return.”

I was already walking. Out of the door, down the front steps, into the square. No bonnet. No gloves. The sun hot on the back of my neck. I crossed the square directly, not bothering with the gravel paths. A gentleman with a dog stopped and stared. An older woman in a carriage turned her head to follow me as the carriage passed. By evening it would be in three drawing rooms. By morning, in thirty. I did not care.

For three weeks, I had stayed away from Steele because that’s what the Queen had advised, because that’s what Steele had determined was for the best. Well, that was about to change.

I had borrowed Cosmos’s pistol, the one our father had gifted to him, and then I had let it be taken from me. But now Scotland Yard had taken my brother to be interrogated on a matter of a murder seemingly committed with his pistol. The penalty for murder was death.

I had no choice. There was only one man who could help. I climbed the steps of Steele House and rang the bell.

Milford opened the door. “Lady Rosalynd,” a note of surprise in his voice.

“Good morning, Milford. Is His Grace—?” I couldn’t complete the sentence.

Milford’s face changed. As my legs stopped working, he caught me by the elbow and drew me inside, steadying me against the wall before he turned to a footman.

“James, go fetch His Grace.”

James wasted no time following Milford’s command.

“His Grace is coming, milady.”

“Milford…” I couldn’t stop shaking.

“He is coming, milady,” he said again. “You have only to wait.”

I heard Steele’s footsteps above me, heard the catch in them before he rushed down the stairs and reached me. “What’s wrong?”

“They have taken Cosmos.”

Chapter

Three

The Vow Undone

For three weeks I had built my days around not touching her. Around not being close enough to do so. In the time it took to cross the entrance hall, I undid the work of those weeks.

Her hands, when I took them, were cold. In July. “Come. Let’s go to my study so you can explain.” In private and in comfort, not in my entrance hall.

She took a faltering step. Afraid she would collapse entirely, I braced her against me and helped her up the stairs and into my study where I led her to the settee. Touching her was a pleasure I had forbidden myself. It felt like coming home.

Milford stood at the study door, a worried look on his face. “How can I assist, Your Grace?”

I nodded to the cabinet where the spirits were kept. “Please pour some brandy for Lady Rosalynd.”

Milford poured a generous portion into a snifter, brought it to Rosalynd, and left, closing the study door behind him.

Rosalynd did not drink but simply held the glass in her hands. Her hair had come down on one side. Dust, or chalk, marked her hem. But it was Rosalynd herself who worried me. I’d never seen her in such a state.