Page 59 of Murder in Blackfriars

I left her alone then, so she could get on with making more scones.

As always, I could only put things in motion and then wait for them to bear fruit. I wished I could be a more patient cultivator, but alas, it was not in my nature.

* * *

Cynthia and her friends—or Miss Townsend’s footmen—must have rallied, because late that night, Daniel turned up.

I’d waited for him, making certain Mr. Davis went to bed this time, and I was quite alone by the time he arrived. When the soft knock came at the back door, I was across the floor to open it before I’d drawn two breaths.

“What is it?” Daniel took in my agitation, his bright greeting dying on his lips.

For answer, I closed and bolted the door, then led him to the table, my hand shaking as I dispensed tea I’d already brewed.

“Please sit,” I told him.

Daniel did so, but watched me with misgivings. “Errol and I found Draper,” he said as he took his seat. “Are you going to scold me for that, or would you like to know what we discovered?”

19

I did very much long to know what they’d learned about Mr. Draper, and at any other time, I’d be torn between inquisitiveness and apprehension about the danger the man presented.

“Later,” I said. Daniel gazed at me in surprise, but I rushed on. “You will not be happy when I tell you, but I can hardly keep it from you. Though a part of me wants to. You are not rational about this topic.”

“I’d like to think I am the most rational of men,” Daniel returned, his expression carefully neutral. “I have studied the technique.”

“At least you are not shouting. Everyone has gone upstairs, but loud voices in the kitchen will draw attention.”

Daniel regarded me in perplexity. “You are alarming me, Kat. The fact that you have not pushed a tasty treat my way tells me something is very wrong. I promise to listen calmly to your news.”

He would not, but I’d not hold him to it.

“Mr. Naismith came to speak to me. Right outside there.” I pointed to the high window that led to the outside stairwell.

Daniel went very still. In the flicker of my candle flame, his face suffused with color and his eyes took on the savage light I’d seen once before—when he’d interviewed a hardened villain called Pilcher, who’d revealed he worked for Mr. Naismith.

I rushed on. “Before you order me out the door onto a train to parts unknown, let me tell you exactly what he said.”

While Daniel’s hands curled into hard balls, I recounted my conversation with Naismith as word for word as I could remember.

“He claims you have stumbled onto something very hazardous indeed,” I finished. “Likely something that threatens him, and he’d prefer you to work onhisside instead of against him. Also, he vows he never killed Mr. Carter. I take that with a grain of salt, of course.”

Daniel did not interrupt my entire speech, nor did he change expression or make any startled or angry noises. He simply sat in one position, unmoving, his eyes fixed on a point on the kitchen’s brick wall.

I finished, refilling my cup of tea, suddenly thirsty. I sipped, but still Daniel said nothing.

“Did you hear any of that?” I laid the cup carefully in the saucer. “Or have you become lost in yourself? And the past?” I said the last very softly.

Daniel at last looked at me. Naked rage burned in his eyes as well as a guardedness.

“I will not let him hurt you, Kat,” he said with quiet resolve. “Or Grace. Or Cynthia, or anyone else. Cynthia might think on retreating to Hertfordshire to her parents. You can go with Grace to Basingstoke and not return.”

“I can hardly impose myself on Joanna,” I said quickly. While I was happy for Grace to be out of danger, I had no intention of fleeing the city and leaving Daniel alone and vulnerable. “Besides, my market stall is doing well so far. I have not seen you to tell you.”

Daniel didn’t relent. “I’m certain families in the south of England would be pleased to acquire such a cook as yourself. Go and put London behind you.”

“You seem to believe such things are simple.” I sipped more tea, finding the warm beverage soothing. “I would have to visit an agency and put myself on their books, waiting who knows how long to find a position. Meanwhile I’d live in Joanna’s spare room and eat all their food, which she needs to feed her brood. Besides, I agree with Joanna. London is my home. I would be wretched to leave it.”

“Kat—”