Page 41 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

I paused with one foot upon the pavement.

The Steele House door opened and Finch disappeared inside. Was he delivering his report to Steele? Or was something else afoot?

I entered Rosehaven House and handed my gloves to the footman. "Is my brother in his study?"

"Yes, my lady."

I went directly there.

Cosmos sat in his accustomed chair, a book open before him and a cup of tea gone cold at his elbow. My brother was not reading. He was waiting—for news, for a knock, for something—and filling the shape of an ordinary afternoon while he did it.

"Back already." He closed the book without marking his place. "Was Claire well?"

"As well as can be expected. Resting. Her household is minding her."

He gestured at the chair opposite. I crossed to the window instead.

Old habit. I thought better standing, and I had a great deal to think about and no notion yet of how much of it to hand him. Benson's name would lead to Harcourt, and Harcourt to questions, and questions to my brother sitting up until dawn building catastrophes out of nothing. So I gave him the parts that would comfort him—that she was eating, that she had asked after him—and kept Benson in my pocket for the man across the square.

From here one had a perfect view of Steele House. The afternoon sun lay flat upon the study windows and returned me nothing but a pale suggestion of myself. Finch and Steele in one closed room. And a square between me and whatever they knew. I have rarely resented the distance so much.

Another carriage drew up before Steele House. A gentleman soon descended from it.

Inspector Graves.

I straightened. Behind me the chair creaked.

"What is it?" Cosmos asked.

"Mr. Finch arrived at Steele House ten minutes ago. Inspector Graves has just followed him in."

"Perhaps the inspector came of his own accord."

"Inspectors of Scotland Yard do not call upon dukes in the late afternoon of their own accord. They are sent for, or they come because something will not keep."

"Then perhaps Steele learned of something after he left you."

That was annoyingly reasonable. I turned it over for as long as it deserved, which was not long. Steele did not wait for information to find him; he went out and arrested it. He had sent for them both. I was sure of it. And he had done it knowing precisely where I would be all afternoon.

Behind me, Cosmos sighed. I had heard that sigh the whole of my life. It generally meant I was being difficult, and it was generally correct.

"You have your investigation expression."

I turned and widened my eyes at him.

"And there it is." He smiled despite himself—the first true smile I had seen from him in days. For a moment he looked like my brother again rather than a man rehearsing his composure for a courtroom.

I crossed to his chair and bent to kiss his cheek. He smelled of cold bergamot and the same soap he had used since he was nineteen. "I shan't be long."

"Where are you—" He stopped. "Across the square."

"Possibly."

"It is never merely possible with you."

I was halfway to the door when I looked back. "She's been missing you."

The smile went out of him. He looked, suddenly, very tired.