Her eyes flew to his, widening in clear alarm. Her flawless skin paled. Her shock was abundantly clear. “Dear God, that is what killed Nancy? And Griz thinks—”
“No, another weapon was used to kill her. We think Nancy borrowed the dagger for her own protection and dropped it at the scene.”
“And Griz did not tell.” She seemed appalled by her sister’s burden. Her eyes refocused on Dragan’s face. “But she told you.”
He shrugged. “Eventually.”
But Lady Trench had moved on. “I wonder which of us she thought…” She broke off, drinking her tea as an excuse, he suspected, to lose the rest of the thought. “Is that why she was so sure you did not do it?”
“Oh no. She worked that out for herself with logic and science.”
Lady Trench looked unsure whether to be proud of her sister or appalled by her involvement. She asked more questions about what they had learned in their investigations, and Dragan saw no reason not to tell her about their adventures in St. Giles, although he left out the murderous part at the end. Lady Trench laughed as he described their mad flight through the back streets.
“I should be utterly appalled by this,” she commented, at last. “But in fact, I find myself merely glad that you were with her. Was that your intent?”
“More of an additional benefit.”
“Because you don’t want me to try and end your…alliance?”
“Because I don’t want her put in that position,” he said frankly. “I value her friendship.”
Again, her surprisingly piercing gaze reminded him of Griz. “I believe you do,” she said at last. “Very well, I shall invite you to my soiree on Thursday evening.”
He blinked. “Why?”
“Sir, that is not a gracious way to accept—or decline—an invitation.”
“I beg your pardon.”
She regarded him. “I want Griz to be happy.”
“Has she been unhappy?”
“No, not recently.” She held his gaze. “I believe a man broke her heart once. Years ago, but it has made her wary to trust.”
“Are we back to warnings?” he asked mildly.
“No, Mr. Tizsa. Promises. More tea?”
Chapter Eleven
Griz was glad when she finally returned from the inquest to discover Nick still in the kitchen, playing with the dog and getting under Cook’s feet. When Vicky licked his face before galloping up to greet Griz with excitement, Griz decided she had done the right thing. Vicky, after all, did not actively like many people.
While Vicky hurled herself into Grizelda’s arms, Nick’s demeanor changed to one of wary watchfulness. Griz pretended not to notice.
“Would you like to take Vicky for a walk?” she suggested.
“Where to?” he asked suspiciously.
“Just to the park. Come, fetch your cap and jacket, and we’ll go now.”
He was wearing a slightly worn but respectable suit of clothes that had probably been collected from Azalea’s son for charity. However, with a hint of defiance, he clapped his bright red cap on his head. It had been cleaned since Griz had seen it last, so she didn’t mind in the slightest.
Since it was more convenient, and she wasn’t yet ready to explain Nick’s presence to her family, they left the house by the area steps, Vicky dancing on the end of her leash.
“What’s that for?” Nick asked, indicating the leash. “To stop her running away?”
“Well, to stop her running under horses’ hooves and carriage wheels. And she can growl at strangers.”
“Oh, can we let her do that in the park?” Nick asked eagerly.
“No, she might frighten someone. And someone might hurt her.”
Nick looked dubious but pushed no further. For her part, Griz did not question him about his past or his future, or even about anything to do with Nancy. She wanted him to be comfortable, to have no reason to bolt back to his old life. He chattered easily enough about the size of his dinner and his breakfast, how Mr. Butler looked down his nose, and how Cook gave him an extra slice of custard pie. He asked questions about Vicky and asked if the Green Park was Grizelda’s garden.
“Oh, no, it’s a public park,” she assured him.
“Just wondered,” he said defensively. “Because of your huge house and all them servants and rooms and pretty things.”
“They’re not really mine,” she explained. “They are my parents’.” And then she wondered if his peculiar honor would allow him to steal from her parents but not from her. Still, she couldn’t take it back.
“And the soldier-doctor?” he asked casually. “Is he rich, too?”
“No, I don’t believe so. He lost everything when he had to