Page 26

Electra had never pushed for an explanation her friend seemed unwilling to divulge, but she’d sensed emotions from Cordelia. Pain. Guilt. Jealousy.

“It was never that I didn’t trust you.” Cordelia kept her gaze focused on the teacup in her hand, running her fingertip along the cup’s edge repeatedly, pensively. Then she looked up with one of her polite half-smiles. “Particularly now. It is in the past, and Kit and I have made our peace with all that kept us apart.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled again. “I very much want it to remain in the past.”

“I should seek new lodgings.”

Cordelia let out a gasp and frowned. “No, I don't wish for you to.”

“Are you certain? Now that I've begun taking sessions again, my income has increased and will hopefully remain steady.”

Cordelia shook her head, though she refuted none of what Electra said.

“I've been thinking about it, even before you told me that Kit was returning,” Electra admitted.

Cordelia sat her teacup aside and crossed her arms. “I don't want you to go. Is that very selfish of me?”

Electra chuckled. “How could it be selfish? You've opened your home to me for months and months. There's nothing selfish about you, Cordelia.”

“I'm not sure that's entirely true.” When she met Electra’s gaze, there was immense sadness in her eyes, yet the emotion that seemed to hang in the air around her was guilt. As Electra focused on it, the feeling grew. Almost as if it was a presence in the room with them.

Electra wanted to ask where the guilt came from, but Cordelia had just said she didn’t wish to speak of the past. And Electra’s sense of Cordelia’s emotions was a result of her abilities, not her friend’s willingness to confess her feelings.

“Enough about me.” Cordelia drew in a breath, smoothed her skirts, and tipped her head as she assessed Electra. “Tell me why you are up so early?”

“I couldn't sleep either.”

“Why couldn't you sleep?”

Electra hesitated. “Gideon’s visit last evening.”

“Oh, yes.” Cordelia brightened, and her eyes widened with a mischievous glint. “A new case, you said. Are you curious about it, or was it thoughts of the inspector that kept you awake?”

Electra had not confided any details about the case to Cordelia, since her friend had been in such high spirts and eager to tell her about her plans for Kit’s permanent return to Russell Square. And then Kit himself had regaled them both with details of the parliamentary debate.

“I know you're anticipating that some grand courtship will commence between us one of these days, Cordelia, but that's never going to happen.” Electra’s throat tightened a bit at that confession. Not because she had ever truly imagined romance would bloom between them. She had not allowed herself to. But the thought of him marrying, of leaving London, of making a life that she would have no part of—that did weigh on her mind at the least expected times.

“Electra?” Cordelia spoke her name softly, drawing her out of her woolgathering.

“As I said last night, he came about a case he is working on.”

“Does he want your assistance?”

“No, not at all. Yet it is a very odd situation, and I could not stop ruminating last night. That is what kept me from sleep.”

Cordelia stirred her tea with a tiny, gilded spoon, staring at the liquid. “Is it anything you can tell me, or is it a matter he has asked you not to speak about?”

“It’s not a secret. Indeed, a few details are already in the morning paper.” Electra took a breath, suddenly eager to tell Cordelia what she hadn’t the previous night. “A gentleman was murdered last evening in Mayfair.”

Cordelia pressed a hand to her chest. “Good heavens. Two murders in Mayfair in the span of two years. And your Inspector Pierce is investigating both. I imagine he's one of the best detectives that Vine Street has.”

Electra felt a swell of pride at that characterization, but there was a more practical reason Gideon would investigate the crimes.

“Since they both occurred in Mayfair, they would fall under Gideon's purview. He went to the scene last night and when he visited last evening, it was to cancel our dinner engagement.”

“Hopefully merely postponed.”

“Indeed.” Electra smoothed a hand along her skirt. “There’s more though. The man who was murdered had my calling card clutched in his palm.”

“Heavens. Do you know him? Is he someone who’s come to you for a session?”