temperament might lodge, asking if a woman of your description had recently taken rooms. When I learnt a young lady named Jane Smith had lived here for precisely the right amount of time, could I ignore the possibility it was you?”
Broken in every way imaginable, I turned away from where I had stood with my head bowed before the door.
“Miss Steele!” Mr Quillfeather exclaimed. He crossed quickly to me, hand extended. “Have I already upset you so?”
The ground seemed to heave. For the briefest of moments, I considered a knife to his heart and a mad flight through alleys and over stiles until I had reached another sort of freedom, a true outlaw’s comfortless existence—but it was not Sam Quillfeather’s fault he was a police inspector, and it was entirely my fault I was a killer.
So I stayed my hand and reached for his instead.
“I know your mind, Miss Steele,” he said quietly. “I will share mine with you, and we will reach an understanding after many years of poisonous secrets—does that suit you?”
Such an overwhelming dread possessed me that I thought my faculties must shatter. I opened my mouth, and just as I was about to make an idiot of myself, Mr. Quillfeather urged, “Oh, please, Miss Steele—won’t you sit down before you do yourself an injury?”
I obediently sat upon the chaise he had vacated, neck tingling with terror.
“Now, Miss Steele,” said he, seating himself upon the chair opposite and leaning forward in his sweeping fashion. “I have some hard words, and want you to understand—I don’t wish to say them? But I simply must, and I frankly regret not having said them to you when you were a little girl. I know, you see, why you lied to my friend Thornfield about your name, why you ran without even taking your luggage. You must know . . . I told him nothing? He believes you to be Jane Stone still. But I know the entire contents of your biography, and of your secret fears.”
“This is about Edwin, then.” My voice was parchment thin.
“Could it be about anything else?” he asked softly.
Yes, I thought, and swallowed what felt like a bullet.
“The fact is that I know . . . everything, Miss Steele, absolutely everything, about the events leading up to your cousin’s unfortunate demise.”
My eyes fell shut; so I was to lose my name, my claim to Highgate House, and my freedom, all in a single afternoon. In a way, I thought, it was kinder—in a way, it was better than I deserved.
“You were so young then, so . . . vulnerable? I never saw such a sensitive little girl in all my days. Now I have found you, however, and you have grown into such a lovely young woman, could my cowardice still, to this very day prevent my speaking out?”
A strong wind seemed to blow, a strangely silent one, and I was a leaf floating upon it.
“Oh, Miss Steele, please don’t take on so!” To my shock, I opened my eyes to find Sam Quillfeather’s beaked nose inches away, his dry, calloused hands grasping mine. “Listen here, my girl—take a few deep breaths, if you can? Very good. I must say the words now, and you can hear them bravely, can you not?”
A faint nod was all I could manage at this point.
“I know that your cousin, Edwin, attacked you, and the nature of that attack.”
I waited; I continued to wait. When he said nothing further, I heaved a breath as if I had been drowning. Inspector Quillfeather nodded, squeezing my limp fingers. He continued to say nothing of murder, and I continued to gape at him, utterly speechless.
“There, I knew that would be difficult. Shall I go on?”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I managed to husk, “Yes,” after which contradictory signals Sam Quillfeather smiled paternally.
“I cannot help but feel that I have done you an . . . injustice? There was evidence, so much evidence, but how can one conscience putting a mere child through such trials? Had I to do it over, I think that I should have acted differently? I can only claim misplaced propriety, though I hope you lived the better for my choice, I truly do.”
“Evidence,” I echoed.
“Oh, evidence in spades!” he cried. “The torn button upon your cousin’s clothing might have been explained as you suggested, by the idea that you were playing. However! Though I do not claim to be the world’s finest policeman, I can assure you that I