Page 27 of Murder in Blackfriars

He was wrapped in a long gray dressing gown that reached to his feet, his hairpiece absent, his domed forehead glistening in the light of the candle he held.

I’d never seen Mr. Davis in anything other than his suits, which were starched and stiff even when he removed his coat to sit in his shirtsleeves. This woolen dressing gown, buttoned to his chin, was almost as severe.

Mr. Davis halted in shock, staring open-mouthed at Daniel and me seated comfortably at the kitchen table, an empty plate and our teacups between us.

I thanked heaven he hadn’t appeared earlier, when I’d been clinging to Daniel, happy he’d been released from custody. Even so, me entertaining a man at night, when all the house was asleep, was a serious breach of behavior, one that could have me on the pavement.

I expected Mr. Davis to draw himself up, denounce us, and tell Daniel to take himself off. Instead, he simply stared, his shock turning to anger.

Mr. Davis’s face suffused with more and more color, then with a final glare at me, he turned on his heel and stalked out.

“Oh, dear.” I rose quickly, and Daniel came to his feet beside me.

“I’ll clear off,” he said.

I caught his hands. “Please do not start searching Bethnal Green until we can speak further. Promise me, Daniel.”

Exasperation flashed in Daniel’s eyes, but I saw resignation as well. “Very well, I will curb myself until I can see you again. Now, get after Davis before he rouses the house. You might as well tell him the truth. He’ll learn it eventually anyway.”

I’d already decided what I wanted to say and hoped I’d have the chance before Mr. Davis broke the news to Mrs. Bywater.

I accompanied Daniel to the back door, unbolted it, then rose on tiptoes to kiss his lips. “Take care, Daniel.”

He returned the kiss and squeezed my hands. “If Davis cuts up rough, I’ll have a word with him.”

“Very kind.” I couldn’t imagine Mr. Davis doing anything that might be deemed rough, but I knew he could grow quite angry. “Good night, Daniel. Go home and tuck James into bed.”

Daniel guffawed at the image, but he nodded and slipped out.

I bolted the door behind him, then wasted no time hastening out of the kitchen and down the hall to the butler’s pantry. Its door was ajar, Mr. Davis’s candle glimmering inside.

I pushed the door open. Mr. Davis stood at a side table, pouring himself a measure of brandy. He glanced up when I entered, his face like stone.

“Mr. Davis—”

“Please, do not try to explain.” His voice was icy. “I have warned you against that man, Mrs. Holloway. What if Mrs. Bywater had come down and caught you together? You’d be on the street, even at this moment.”

I closed the door so that any other nocturnal wanderer would not hear us.

“I am going to marry him,” I announced quietly. “Not immediately. Sometime next summer.”

Mr. Davis’s expression grew even more forbidding. “Good Lord, I never took you for a madwoman. You’d throw yourself away on the likes ofhim? I recall you assuring me not long ago that you would not.”

“Daniel is a hardworking, respectable man, who is kind to me,” I said in rising irritation. “Why is it so terrible a thing that I choose him?”

“He likely only wants someone to look after him and to cook decent meals for him.” Mr. Davis held up a hand that trembled. “Do not grow offended and believe I mean that no one would want to marry you for yourself. But I know his sort.They take whatever is on offer and toss it into the gutter when they are finished.”

“I’m not a green girl, Mr. Davis,” I snapped. “I’ve had experience before with such a man as you describe. Long ago,” I hastened to add when Mr. Davis’s brows rose. “I learned the difference between one who takes advantage and one who treats me with consideration. Daniel is not a bad person in the least. See what fine care he takes of his son.”

“He’ll expect you to help him with that as well,” Mr. Davis muttered.

“James is grown up now. I doubt I’ll have to be his mum.” I firmed my voice. “I have made this choice, and I believe it a good one. But I must ask you to tell no one, as we are keeping it to ourselves for now. Especially not Mrs. Bywater. Please.”

Mr. Davis, if anything, grew even colder. “I had no intention of rushing upstairs to spread tittle-tattle, Mrs. Holloway. If that is what you think of me, I advise you to leave my room and cease speaking to me.”

He had a point, and I climbed down a peg. “Forgive me. You startled me, and I know I have lost your approval, which I value.” I gave his dressing gown another glance. “What are you doing downstairs, anyway?”

“I left a book I wished to peruse.” Mr. Davis lifted a small tome from his table. “When I descended, I saw a light in the kitchen and went to see if all was well.”