fortune.
He still wounded the most tender part of her soul.
“If that’s how you want it,” she whispered.
“It’s better to make a clean end, don’t you think?” His voice was as expressionless as lead.
Without a word, Evelina turned on her heel and walked away. She meant to stop and say good-bye to Imogen, but her feet wouldn’t slow as she marched down the stairs. She couldn’t face anyone right then.
Tears ached behind her eyes, waiting for the least excuse to fall, but she held them in. She was a lady. She had been presented to the queen. She was made of finer steel than Tobias Roth could shatter.
But defiance soured to uneasiness in the time it took to reach the door of Hilliard House. Tobias was willing to kill. She knew his secrets.
It didn’t take a Holmes to add up that equation. There was no question of belonging here now.
Chapter Forty-four
Evelina was eager to be gone, and Lord Bancroft was eager for her to go. His own carriage took her to Baker Street, where she would stop for the night before returning to her grandmother in the morning.
She found her uncle was waiting up for her, browsing his books of chemistry. Dr. Watson wasn’t there, apparently returned at last to the long-suffering Mrs. W.
“Uncle? I thought you would have retired for the night.”
He raised a hand. “Please, I have had enough coddling from Mrs. Hudson and the good doctor. No more.”
She didn’t care. He looked awful. “Why are you still up?”
He settled against the cushions of the chair, his expression defensive. “I was merely reviewing the case in my mind. There is only one outstanding question.”
She sat down wearily. “What is that?”
“The voices you heard at eleven o’clock the night of the murder.”
“It could have been anyone,” Evelina replied. “Does it matter?”
“Not necessarily.” He snapped the book shut. “It’s merely a species of maggot that will not leave my mind. I have expected all along to discover a witness who saw Dr. Magnus the night of the murder. The police sought reports of a lone man and found nothing. But there were many reports of a tall, dark man in company with a woman. Perhaps he had an accomplice? Did you not find a female footprint by Grace Child’s body?”
“I did,” she said sitting up straight. She remembered the night Magnus returned Bird, when she was talking to Inspector Lestrade. What was it Bird had told her?
Tobias and Grace weren’t the first couple outside the side door that night. She had utterly forgotten. “I’m an idiot. There was a witness—no one of importance,” she said quickly in response to her uncle’s questioning look. “There was another couple outside the door. I suppose it was their voices I heard.”
“Then who were they?” Holmes asked. “Was Magnus working with someone?”
“Every time I saw the doctor, he was alone.”
“No wife or lover? No one to play the accomplice in skirts?”
“No. None. Nick said he lived alone, without even servants. And the witness who saw the couple described them as a man and his shadow. Apparently they’d been there more than once.”
“If they were the culprits who murdered Grace and stole the automatons, they were no doubt getting the lay of the land. But a shadow? Are we dealing with doppelgangers now? Crazed shadow-men with blades?” Her uncle grimaced.
“I feel like I’ve been chasing shadows.” Evelina wrinkled her brow, speaking mostly in jest. “Is that our second murderer? A ghost with a blade?”
“How utterly distasteful. Not to mention preposterous. If maniacal spirits are the order of the day, I am retiring. I would rather believe Magnus wielded the knife himself.”
Evelina wanted to say something clever to that, but weariness left nothing but a blank in her brain. “He did, didn’t he?”
“It seems the likeliest answer, but the evidence is all circumstantial. There is nothing that would hold up before a judge.”
That left a queasy feeling in her stomach. She wanted certainty, but Holmes wouldn’t give it to her just for the sake of comfort. “Before you were shot, you said there were two unknowns. One was Harriman. Was the other this mysterious woman?”
“Perhaps. Recall also our two grooms. There was plenty of time for our killer to leave Hilliard House and catch up with them, but would one person have the strength to subdue two burly men?”
“There has to have been an accomplice,” she said softly.
“Yes. And we may never know who that was, beyond the suggestion that it
She shuddered, remembering Grace’s slashed throat. At least Magnus was gone. “I assumed somehow this would all be resolved.”
“You mean, when I arrived I would wave the stem of my pipe and all would become clear?” Holmes looked uncharacteristically sympathetic and rather amused. “You flatter me.”
“But how will Grace get justice?”
“That is the sad truth of crime. She may not—but I will do my best to see to it that she does. Not all cases are solved overnight.”
Evelina bowed her head. “I had no idea detecting took such stamina.”
Her uncle snorted. “When Watson writes his stories he skips over the dull bits. Crime solving takes mind- numbing patience and rather a lot of hard work.”
“So I discovered.” She shifted wearily in her chair. “I finally have a true appreciation for what you do.” And right now, she hoped to never need investigate another case. Detection sounded romantic and interesting on paper, but the real thing involved death and broken hearts.
Another thought inserted itself, seemingly at random. She spoke before thinking. “None of this would have any connection to this Baskerville business, would it?”
“No,” Holmes said flatly, making her wish she’d held her tongue. “Various players in this piece have connections to the rebels and others I think wish they had, but the murder of the serving girl was an entirely different tragedy.”
Evelina digested that and wondered why the topic made him so prickly. “Then you know who has rebel sympathies?”
“I’m speculating. Politics is Mycroft’s area of expertise, not mine. I prefer pursuits based on some form of logic. Do you perceive any other loose ends in the case?” Holmes asked, clearly changing the subject.
Annoyed by his abruptness, Evelina couldn’t help being blunt. “Tobias shot you.”
“I know.”
Of course he did, the wretch. “You might have mentioned it.”
“I thought it best if you figured that out for yourself. You bore the young man some affection.”
Evelina lifted her hands, then dropped them to her sides in a gesture of sheer exasperation. “I did. Both him and Nick. I wanted them to be innocent.”
“Neither of them killed the maid.”
“Tobias turned killer and Nick turned thief,” her voice rose with fury. “Are all young men so hopelessly thick?”
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. “They are both in love with you and both are pushed into impossible corners. Tobias is desperately struggling to keep his family from ruin. An admirable goal, although I question his methods.”
“By killing you?”
