oddest thing, but I’ve realized that none of my acquaintances have much experience with murder. So naturally I thought of you.”
Sebastian was startled into letting out a sharp laugh.
Something unpleasant gleamed in her eyes. “I amuse you, my lord?”
If truth were told, Hero Jarvis scared the hell out of him. Sebastian shook his head. But all he said was, “I may have been involved in several investigations in the past, Miss Jarvis, but apprehending murderers is not my hobby.”
“What would you call it, then? Your avocation?”
Kat Boleyn had once called it his passion, his obsession, his self-imposed penance for sins she only half understood. But that seemed a lifetime ago now, and he slammed his mind shut against the thought. He said, “I haven’t been involved in anything of that nature for a while now.”
“I have heard something of how you’ve been spending your time these past months,” she said drily. “Rest assured that I am not asking you to investigate personally. I am merely requesting guidance on how I should go about beginning such an investigation.”
“It’s your intention to investigate these murders
“Are you implying that I am incapable?”
“I’m implying that women of your station generally hire Bow Street Runners to do their investigating.”
“That’s not possible in this situation.”
“Because of Sir William?”
“Not exactly.” A flush crept up her cheeks, and he wondered what she was not telling him. “I promised my father I would not approach the magistrates.”
He studied her carefully composed features. “Yet Lord Jarvis has no objection to you pursuing your own inquiries?”
She turned her head away to study a passing row of shops, and Sebastian gave a low laugh. “You haven’t told him, have you? He will find out.” Lord Jarvis maintained an extensive network of spies and agents, which had earned the man a well-deserved reputation for omniscience.
She said, “I have no intention of denying my activities.”
Sebastian knew a brief flicker of admiration. There weren’t many with the courage to cross the King’s powerful cousin. He said, “You also realize that I could use the information you’ve given me to hurt you.”
“You mean, to hurt my father through me.” She met his gaze and held it. “It has occurred to me. It’s a risk I’ve decided I am willing to take.”
“Discovering this woman’s identity is that important to you?”
“I don’t think anything has ever been this important to me,” she said simply.
A tense silence fell between them. He had a dozen good reasons for avoiding this woman and very few incentives to help her. Yes, the temptation to annoy Jarvis was powerful. Yet that in itself might not have been enough to tempt him if he hadn’t been aware of a vague, unexpected quickening of interest. He couldn’t think of anything that had intrigued him—really intrigued him—for eight months now.
He reined in beside her carriage and said, “If it were me, Miss Jarvis, I’d begin by talking to the authorities. See what they have discovered so far.”
For the first time since she had approached him that morning, he saw what looked like a slight faltering in her formidable composure. “But that’s the one thing I can’t do.”
“No. But I can.”
“You? But . . . why would you involve yourself in this?”
“You know why.”
She met his gaze. And in that moment he realized that she did, indeed, know why. She knew he would welcome any chance to discomfit her father. More than that: She had, in fact, been counting on it.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, allowing herself a slight smile as she turned to alight. “You will tell me if you discover anything?”
“Of course,” said Sebastian, and went in search of his tiger.
Chapter 3
Sebastian found Tom waiting for him outside the cutler’s shop. A small scrap of a boy with brown hair, a gap-toothed smile, and a usefully forgettable face, Tom served Sebastian as both a groom and a willing participant in some of Sebastian’s less orthodox activities.
“She said I weren’t wanted,” the tiger exclaimed when Sebastian told him of Miss Jarvis’s deception. “ ’Ow was I to know a starchy gentlewoman like ’er was tellin’ a bouncer?”
“Miss Jarvis would argue that, technically, it wasn’t a bouncer, since
Tom’s brows drew together in a dark frown that augured ill for any future encounters between the tiger and Lord Jarvis’s formidable daughter.
Hiding a smile, Sebastian gathered his reins. “I want you to take a message to Dr. Gibson for me. You’ll probably find him at the Chalk Street Almshouse—I think he volunteers there on Tuesday mornings. Ask him to meet me at the site of the Friends’ Magdalene House in Covent Garden. I’ll be there as soon as I’ve spoken to Sir
