aloud. At that moment Joshua met her eyes across the table and she knew that he was aware of her thoughts.
“You’re wrong, you know,” she said simply. “You are two very different men, in spite of your philosophical training and your martial arts abilities. You would never have allowed yourself to believe what you know is impossible—that the dead could be brought back to life by magic. And you would never have murdered people who had done you no harm in order to achieve your objective. You would have found other ways.”
Joshua’s brows rose. “Because I am a man of logic and reason?”
She smiled. “No, because you are a good and decent man.”
Sara chuckled. “She is trying to tell you that you are a hero, Mr. Gage, and I do believe she is correct.”
“There are no heroes,” Joshua said. “There are only those who try to make the right choice when choice is thrust upon them.”
Nelson grinned. “Is that one of Hazelton’s sayings?”
Joshua surprised everyone with a smile. “Actually, I made that one up myself.”
Beatrice looked at him. “What will you do now?”
Joshua’s smile vanished. “I’m going to do the only thing I can for Victor.”
“I understand. May I come with you?”
“Are you certain you want to accompany me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I want to be with you when you say your goodbyes to both of them.”
Fifty
Following breakfast Joshua escorted Beatrice home in a cab and then went off to speak with one of his mysterious associates at Scotland Yard. Nelson accompanied him.
The house echoed with emptiness. Clarissa was still on assignment in the country. Mrs. Rambley had left a note saying that she had gone to visit her recently widowed sister.
Beatrice was in the middle of a bath when the exhaustion finally overtook her. Yawning, she stepped out of the tub, pulled on her wrapper and went to her bedroom to take a nap.
She awoke to the sound of rain on the windows and a knock on the front door. She rose from the bed and went to the window to look down at the street.
Joshua was on the front step. He was wearing a long black coat and a hat against the rain. The cab in which he had arrived was disappearing into the gray mist.
She tightened the sash of her wrapper and hurried downstairs, anxious for a report of his conversation with the police. When she opened the door she knew from the energy that shifted in the atmosphere around him and his fierce grip on the cane that it was only his iron will that was keeping him on his feet.
“Joshua,” she said. She stepped back. “Come in.”
“I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“It’s all right. I was just getting up from a nap.” She blushed. Her wrapper was entirely modest but she was suddenly aware that she was wearing nothing under it. “You look like you could use some sleep, too.”
“I will go home and get some rest after I’m finished here.”
After I’m finished here did not bode well. A small shiver of uncertainty lanced across her senses, igniting her intuition. Whatever the reason for this visit, it was a matter of great seriousness to Joshua.
She stepped back. He moved through the doorway and shrugged out of his wet coat. She hung the garment on a wall hook and set his hat to dry on the console.
It was odd to realize that this was only the second time that he had crossed the threshold of her home. Then again, she had never been to his house. They knew so little about each other and yet they knew so much of an intimate nature. But that was the way of the world for those who indulged in illicit love affairs, she reminded herself. The one thing such couples could not share was a home.
A whisper of melancholia twisted her insides.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.
Startled, she summoned her acting talents and managed a bright little smile. “I was thinking that in some ways we are for the most part still strangers. It seems that we have spent the whole of our acquaintance dealing with blackmailers, killers and the odd madman or two.”
He watched her with an unwavering intensity. “I have been waiting my entire life to meet you, Beatrice.”
She caught her breath. For a few seconds she stood frozen. Her instinct was to throw herself into his arms. But logic reminded her that the darkly passionate energy she sensed in him could easily be explained by the