Chapter 15 #2
She took a deep breath and, for a few moments, did not speak.
But then she spoke, her voice softening a fraction.
“I do not seek to crush you, child. I know you involve yourself in matters of reform, that you visit places polite society pretends not to see. You did so long before Steele muddled your life. I do not say such work is wrong. I suspect it may even be needed. There is too much suffering in this city.”
“There is,” I murmured.
“But you are not invincible. Reputation is fragile. You walk into shadows that can drown you. And you do so with a man who moves through those depths more easily than you. That does not make him safe. It only makes him more dangerous.”
The room closed in around me. The portraits on the walls—Rosehaven ancestors serene in gilt—had never stepped foot in a mission for fallen women. They had never seen a girl lying cold in a coroner’s cellar.
“I cannot stop,” I said.
Her gaze sharpened. “Can you not?”
“Girls are going missing, Grandmother. One has been found dead. They are being taken or lured to false employment. If I turn away, I am complicit in their destruction.”
“You are a lady, not a constable.”
“Is that all I am allowed to be? A lady?”
The words hung between us, heavier than I intended.
Her fingers tightened on her cane. For a moment, the mask slipped, and I glimpsed not the Dowager Countess but a mother who had once lost a son to a senseless accident.
“You are my granddaughter,” she said quietly. “I wish to see you happy. I wish to see you safe. If you fall in love with this man, if you bind yourself to his life, you bind yourself to his burdens. You risk heartbreak. You risk scandal. You risk being drawn under by causes that do not let go.”
“I am already drawn,” I said softly. “Whether by Steele or by the girls or both. It hardly matters. They are tangled together now.”
“You admit it, then.”
“I admit that my heart is in danger,” I whispered.
There—bare and irrevocable—the truth lay between us.
Her expression softened. “Oh, child.”
“I did not choose it,” I said. “It happened while I was looking elsewhere. While I was trying to keep Cosmos steady, and Petunia gentle, and Chrissie from choosing the first scoundrel who smiled at her. Steele arrived and insisted on helping with a murder. I told myself he was a useful ally. I did not realize he would become something more.”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. I refused to let them fall.
Grandmother’s voice gentled. “Then be doubly cautious. Guard your heart as fiercely as you guard those girls. Do not give it away simply because he notices you, or treats you seriously, or pleases you. Those are poor reasons to tether yourself to any man, even a duke, who cannot give you what you deserve.”
“He cares about justice,” I said. “About workers who suffer senseless injuries. About women with no voice.”
“So do you. That explains part of the attachment. It does not make it safe.”
“I know it is not safe. None of this is. Not for the girls. Not for the daughter of a peer who has also disappeared.”
Her gaze widened. “Who?”
“I cannot say. My point is that not even Steele is safe if he stirs up the wrong enemies. But I cannot withdraw simply because my feelings complicate matters.”
She studied me for a long moment. “You mean to go on.”
“Yes.”
She sighed, the sound carrying the weight of years. “I thought as much. You have your father’s stubbornness and your mother’s conscience. A troublesome combination.”
“I inherited your temper as well,” I said with a small grin.
Which grandmother fully returned. “You did. I hope you will consider what I’ve said. If you must pursue this investigation, do so with care. Do not place yourself where society might make cruel assumptions. You know how quickly rumors grow.”
“I know,” I said.
“And regarding Steele—look clearly at him. At what his life requires. Decide whether you are prepared for all of it before you let your heart run entirely free. There is more to romance than shared ideals and a well-timed kiss.”
My cheeks flamed. “Grandmother.”
“I am old, not dead. I’ve known what passion feels like.” A soft sigh. “Lady Marwood described the way you looked at one another when you reentered the ballroom. She did so with far too much relish for my comfort.”
There was nothing I could say to that. She was right.
As she attempted to rise to her feet, I stood and offered my arm. She took it, her grip steady.
“At least you are not a fool,” she said. “Stubbornness, I can endure. Foolishness I could not forgive. Remember this. Those girls deserve justice. But so do you. Do not sacrifice your own chances entirely in the pursuit of theirs. There must be balance.”
“I will try,” I said.
“You will do more than try.” She sighed. “But that is enough for today.”
She kissed my cheek and swept from the room with all the dignity of her rank.
When the silence returned, it felt almost loud.
I moved back to the little writing desk, but I could not focus. My grandmother’s words were still echoing in my mind.
You risk losing your heart.
Perhaps that risk had already solidified into truth. But I could not dwell on it now. Honora’s time was running thin, and so were the other young women. Every hour without action stole another chance to find them alive.
I would move carefully. I would keep a footman close and my wits closer.
But I would go on.