“Besides,” Mrs. Stewart continued, “we’ve gathered enough petition votes to bring a debate to the House floor in just two weeks. That is what Sir Elliot was to announce tonight before he sent word that he couldn’t attend.” She squeezed her eyes shut inapparent frustration. “It’s what the WEA has been striving for. I would never jeopardize this opportunity with such violence.”
Leo had signed the petition at her first meeting. A debate in the House would force members of Parliament to listen to the WEA’s arguments, and with Sir Elliot’s support, it could sway opinions. Now, however, that debate was unlikely to be held.
It was possible, Leo considered, that Geraldine Stewart was being set up to look like a radical, violent activist. It was precisely what someone like Lord Babbage would want.
The ride to Scotland Yard had been bumpy and rough, and the two women had felt the jolts keenly in the back of the police wagon. It wouldn’t have been a shock to learn the driver had been instructed to aim the wagon’s wheels for the largest holes in the cobblestones along the way.
“Why have they arrested you?” Mrs. Stewart asked after several minutes of silence had passed.
“The inspector isn’t fond of me. I’m sure this is punishment for questioning him in public.”
They arrived at the Yard, and Leo’s heart rate increased in anticipation of crossing paths with Jasper. It would be humiliating to be seen in handcuffs, being led away like a common criminal. Thankfully, it was later in the evening, and she hadn’t seen him. The constables brought her and Mrs. Stewart to the third-floor rooms, where they were given over to the care of the on-duty matron.
The room with the blue carpet that Leo had been treading for hours likely had been a servant’s bedroom, back when the building existed within the Palace of Whitehall, a once grand structure with multiple wings used to house Scottish royalty and diplomats. Now, furnished with only a chair and footstool, and a small commode in which to empty her bladder, the room was spartan. She’d sat with her legs tucked up beneath her in thedark all night, nodding off a few times, waiting for Inspector Tomlin to come rail at her.
But he hadn’t.
As the morning sun lifted above the rooftops outside, a knock landed on her door. Leaping to her feet, she was prepared to see Inspector Tomlin enter her quarters. Instead, Sergeant Lewis had entered, the matron standing in the open doorway to act as chaperone.
“Miss Spencer, I’ve just been informed of your arrest,” he remarked matter-of-factly.
Heat suffused her cheeks. “I haven’t been properly booked,” she said to clarify.
“Shall I send for Inspector Reid?”
“No,” she answered a little too eagerly. “No, please, it’s not necessary. But could you send word to my uncle? He’s sure to be worrying himself sick about where I’ve been all night.”
“He was in looking for you just now. I assured him I’d make certain you were all right.”
Leo exhaled, relieved. Yet also infuriated. How long must she wait here before Inspector Tomlin decided he was ready to question her?
“How is Mrs. Stewart?” she asked. “Is she still being held?”
There had been little sound outside her small room that morning, and Sergeant Lewis’s answer explained why.
“She’s been taken to Holloway Prison to await official charges.”
Leo’s breath left her at the news, and she didn’t regain it until after the sergeant bobbed his head in departure, the matron closing and locking the door behind him. Geraldine had already been taken toprison? How was that possible? Leo felt completely useless as she began pacing the room again.
Shortly afterward, the matron returned with a small bowl of gruel. The older woman had searched Leo upon her arrival thenight before for any weapons or stolen items, turning a deaf ear to her assertions that she would find nothing of the sort on her person. This matron wasn’t warm or smiling, however, as Dita would have been. Leo left the bowl of thin gruel untouched despite her grumbling belly. Where the devil was Inspector Tomlin? At least the handcuffs had been removed before he’d gone home last night, leaving her to stew.
She was standing at the window, watching the street below when she heard a gruff command from the corridor: “Open that door. Now, please.”
Leo closed her eyes at Jasper’s deep voice, her heart launching into her throat as a ring of keys rattled, and the lock turned.
This was going to be nearly as bad as when he found her stuck in the open grave at All Saints Cemetery back in January.
Jasper stalked into the small room and came to an abrupt halt when he saw her at the window.
“Christ, Leo.” He came forward, raking her from crown to toe with his smoldering green eyes. “Are you hurt at all?”
She stumbled at the question. It wasn’t the one she’d expected. “I’m fine, I’ve just… I’ve been here all night. Inspector Tomlin put me here and never returned.”
He swore an oath under his breath. “What has he charged you with?”
Leo sensed Jasper’s temper was about to boil over. He was angry, but to her surprise, she didn’t think it was with her. “Nothing. Yet.”
He turned to the matron. “Miss Spencer is coming with me.”
