behind us on the ground. I think it is what killed Nancy. She tried to kill me with it, too.”
“I have it.” The inspector seemed more concerned with the gaggle of women emerging from the tunnel with Penelope captive among them.
Penelope’s gaze flew to Gabriel, at once tense, terrified, and hopeful.
“She called your maid a whore,” Junie informed Griz. “And now it’s real whores who hand her over to the law. You’re welcome, Inspector.”
“And stay out of the way of her feet when you take her up the ladder,” another woman advised.
“Thomas,” Penelope begged.
“Not this time,” he said hoarsely. “This time it’s all over. For both of us.”
Two policemen went first, then Penelope and another constable, keeping a wary distance from her feet. But she seemed dazed, as though all the fight had gone out of her. Harris waved Gabriel toward the ladder.
Gabriel paused, again looking back at Griz. “Tell Lord Horace I am…sorry.”
She nodded curtly as Harris pushed him on.
“How did you even know where to find me?” Griz asked suddenly.
“I followed Gabriel to the Derryns’ house,” Dragan said, “and almost as soon as he’d gone in, she came out. I almost didn’t recognize her as Miss Derryn. I went to warn you and got your note. Fortunately, your brother was around and went to fetch the police while I rushed over here.”
He didn’t even ask what she’d been thinking about to come here alone to the scene of a previous murder. He, too, had assumed Miss Derryn too innocent, too much the victim in Gabriel’s crimes. But he had come for her. He had sent her powerful family to summon the police and elicited even the aid of the ladies of the night, all to help her. He had undoubtedly saved her life.
He cared.
She rested her head against his shoulder. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Both Forsythe and Griz insisted Dragan come into the house, which, of course, was in an uproar, since the servants had informed the duke of Forsythe’s expedition to the police to save Griz.
They walked into a drawing room full of family. In a rare show of public affection, her mother embraced her. So did Azalea and Rosemary—clearly summoned from their own homes in the crisis—and Horace. Even Monkton patted her shoulder while her father was pushing glasses of brandy into everyone’s hands, including Grizelda’s.
And the tale was dragged out of her and Dragan, a brief and hastily edited summary of the investigations that had led to tonight, followed by the night’s adventures. There were gasps and groans and cries of horror and then relief. And then, finally, there was silence.
The duke broke it. “I don’t approve. I don’t approve at all. You. Griz, had no business interfering in any of this, and nor, sir, did you. But we can’t change that, now. All I can say is that we owe you, sir, a huge debt of gratitude for Grizelda’s safety. For her very life. I shall not forget that.”
Everyone nodded solemnly. Only Dragan looked uncomfortable.
“Mr. Gabriel says he is sorry,” she told Horace.
Horace shook his head. “I never suspected him for a moment of anything underhand. Even the leaflets in the rookery. I was completely taken in. I!”
“I believe he was sincere in his work,” Dragan said. “He really does hate the idea of revolution, and I’m sure he worked hard in his efforts to avoid the danger. He just saw no harm in lining his pockets at the same time, if it helped him aspire to a position closer to yours.” He smiled faintly. “You see, equality would solve all that nonsense.”
The duke let out a bark of laughter. Azalea emitted a slightly shocked giggle. Even Horace gave a sardonic grin.
“Well, thank God all is resolved,” the duchess said. “Where is it you lodge, Mr. Tizsa?”
“Kensington, ma’am.”
“Well, you can’t possibly go all the way back there tonight. Not after what you have done. Pull the bell, Azalea. You must stay in the guest bedchamber, sir. And you should find there everything you need for your comfort. Shall we have supper?”
***
Her family’s gratitude to Dragan had taken her by surprise, but when she finally found herself alone in her bedchamber, undressed and pulling on her nightgown, she was surprised by her dissatisfaction. She was glad of their warmth to him and their temporary forgiveness of her. And after those moments with the murderous Penelope Derryn, she was very thankful to see them all again.
And Dragan, if not quite accepted as an equal, was