The detective hesitated a moment, and Harris straightened. A familiar sense of unease tripped up his spine. “What is it?” he asked.
“Are you familiar with a man by the name of Mac Diggory? He—”
“We know who he is,” Lady Cowpen snapped. “A thief of children.”
All of London had been fascinated by the stories of the rightful heirs and lords he’d kidnapped as young children. Those stories had only fueled the duchess’ hopes. Harris, however, hadn’t put much stock in the possibility that Adairia had been taken as those other male children had been.
“Julia Smith was a daughter of Mac Diggory.”
Harris’ gut churned all the more.
“I questioned the lady as to whether or not she’d assisted in the kidnapping of Lady Adairia.”
“Of course it could not have been her. She is near in age to Adairia. When the girl went missing, Julia wouldn’t have been older than five or six herself. And you’d think she had a hand in that?” She made a sound of disgust.
Harris stilled. No, the timing of it all didn’t make sense.
“I would direct you to worrying less about Julia’s supposed guilt and more about my missing niece. You come into this household and make these charges against her. You should know I am going to adopt the girl. She has a safe home here.” The duchess gave him a pointed look. “Safe from all.”
Steele’s cheeks flushed. “It is my responsibility to put those hard questions to her.”
The duchess blanched. “You made these allegations to her?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but swung her focus back to Harris. “Never tell me you allowed this meeting to take place?”
Harris’ gut spasmed. With his own initial hurt and resentment no longer fresh, he saw the logic in Her Grace’s words. Yes, there’d been the lie, but Julia had been truthful with the duchess. And not only that, while she’d lived here, she’d thought only of helping others. “I expected that, given she’d lied about her identity,” he began weakly, “there was the possibility—”
“That she lied about everything?” she barked. “The reason Julia came here was because the same people who harmed my niece came for her. Her life was in danger, and she’d nowhere else to go. She offered to return, knowing what awaited her.”
The muscles in his body tightened, and a sharp sensation gripped his chest. For everything Julia had shared, she’d not told him about the peril she faced.
“There is the possibility—” Steele began.
“Not another word from you, Steele.” With that, the duchess came to her feet. “I need to make sure Julia knows she always has a home here. If you scared her witless, there will be hell to pay, Mr. Steele.” A sound of disgust escaped her, and she swept across the room, marching over to the nearest bell-pull, where she rang for a servant.
Stebbins immediately appeared.
“Fetch Lady Julia this instant.”
The young man bowed, and closing the door behind him, he dashed off.
The duchess, however, wasn’t through with her wrath, this time turning her ire on Harris. “You can be as mistrustful and as angry as you want about what happened to you, about being deceived by Clarisse. But that woman? She trapped you. Julia was a friend to my Adairia. She was and is deserving of our support and our security.”
Yes, she was.
A young woman who’d fought him on taking a pence to throw into the river, because she’d seen it as wasteful, wasn’t the manner of schemer who’d been out to fleece. He saw that now. Shame soured his mouth, sitting on his tongue like vinegar.
The door burst open and the duchess’s butler stumbled in, with a caller close behind.
“A Mr. C-Colins,” Her Grace’s butler, gasping and out of breath announced the latest addition to the room.
“Who in God’s name is Mr. Colins?” the duchess cried before anyone else could speak.
“Colins is one of my men,” Steele said swiftly, stepping forward. “What is it?”
“The lady is gone.”
Gone.
Harris’ stomach dropped. She’d fled. It was damning, and yet, it also spoke to her fear.
“Gone?” the duchess echoed dumbly. She looked between the two detectives. “You allowed this?”
The subordinate looked to his superior, and having been dressed down by the powerful woman before them, Harris had a strong sense of relief that Steele was the one being made to answer.
Steele, however, spoke with all the blunt directness and confidence of a man in full possession of the decisions he’d made. “I expected she’d run. And I expected she’d take us where we needed to go to find your niece. My other man will be tracking her.”
“Yes, you did, Steele.” Her Grace hissed his name. “By risking Julia’s life.”
Oh, God. Harris went cold as the implications set in—they’d used her as bait. They’d sent her after the very ruthless people the duchess had insisted she’d been hiding from. Julia had directly placed herself in harm’s way with men who’d think nothing of putting their hands upon a woman.
His thoughts came to a staggering, abrupt stop. Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead as a memory trickled in.
The young woman being assaulted in the street, facedown on the pavement with a brute atop her, pinning her to the ground, and another standing in wait.
And then the memories kept coming.
To the evening he’d raced back to the duchess’ to find Julia waiting.
“You,” Julia blurted.
“She recognizes Harris.”
The sick sensation in his gut grew.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I recognized you.”
“Forgive me. Oi didn’t mean—”
Harris’ eyes slid shut.
No, it couldn’t be.
He covered his face with his hands.
It had been her that day. That had also been the
