Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
A House in Uproar
The carriage stopped in the mews behind Rosehaven House just as the first streak of washed-out grey seeped into the sky.
The narrow yard lay enclosed on three sides, the house itself still hidden from view by the angle of the buildings and the service wall that separated the mews from the main gardens.
My limbs felt like stone, my eyes raw from lack of sleep. With Steele’s aid, I pushed myself down from the carriage step.
“Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper.
“Best not,” I said. “We don’t want to cause a commotion.”
He held my hand for a moment longer than necessary, as if memorizing the feel of it, then let go.
There was barely enough light to make out the path ahead, but I knew it by heart, having walked it more times than I could count. The moment I turned the corner toward the rear entrance, the house finally came into view.
Light blazed from half the windows.
And I knew at once that something was wrong.
As I drew closer, more details resolved themselves out of the gloom. Interior doors stood ajar where they should have been closed, light spilling into passageways never lit at that hour. Voices carried across the yard—not in conversation, but raised, disordered, edged with panic.
Then a sharp cry cut through the stillness.
Petunia.
My heart lurched.
I quickened my pace, gathering my cloak around me as I slipped through the servants’ door. Mrs. Hennessy, our cook, nearly collided with me, one hand clutching her shawl, her face pale.
“Oh, praise be!” she gasped. “My lady—thank heavens—you must go upstairs at once—”
“What has happened?”
“Lady Petunia woke in the dark of night and went looking for you. When she didn’t find you, she thought something dreadful had happened. She ran screaming down the corridor. Woke the entire household.”
Guilt slammed into me with the force of a blow.
“Where is she?” I whispered.
“In the nursery—”
That was all I needed to hear.
I was already moving, turning away from Mrs. Hennessy.
When I took the stairs two at a time, my skirts caught at my ankles.
I gathered them up without slowing. Voices echoed through the house—low, urgent, confused—but I barely registered them.
All I could think of was Petunia, waking in the dark and finding me gone.
Light spilled from the nursery door at the end of the corridor.
I pushed it open and found Petunia sitting upright in bed, hair in tangles, cheeks blotched red, eyes swollen from crying. Chrissie sat beside her, arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, murmuring softly as Petunia clutched at her nightgown and sobbed.
She looked impossibly small, trembling despite Chrissie’s hold, as though the world itself had come undone.
The moment she saw me, her face crumpled.
“Rosie,” she sobbed.
I crossed the room in three strides. As Chrissie gave way to me, I gathered Petunia into my arms and held her as tightly as I dared.
“Oh, sweetheart—I’m here. I’m here.”
“You weren’t—” she sobbed into my shoulder. “I looked and looked, and you weren’t—anywhere—and the dark was big—and I thought—”
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I held her, rocking slightly, sick with remorse for what I’d put her through. I had thought everyone would sleep. I had not imagined she would wake and come searching. I had been wrong—recklessly, painfully wrong.
When her sobs finally quieted, another voice cut through the room.
“Rosalynd.”
Cosmos.
He stood at the far end of the nursery, an arm braced against the doorframe, hair disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned at the throat. His expression was not one of relief. It was fury, contained only by the thinnest veneer of restraint.
“Make certain Petunia’s settled,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to Chrissie before returning to me. Then, more tightly, “Once she is, come to my study. I’ll be waiting for you.” And with that, he turned and left.
Petunia’s fingers tightened on my sleeve.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” I murmured. “Stay with Chrissie. I’ll come check on you shortly.”
She obeyed, though reluctantly, sniffling as Chrissie murmured comfort into her hair.
“Be careful with your words, Rosie,” Chrissie said quietly. “I’ve never seen Cosmos so angry.”
Neither had I.
I adjusted my cloak and made my way downstairs to my brother’s study, each step heavier than the last.
Cosmos stood with his back to me, staring out of the window at the paling horizon. The room felt cold despite the embers glowing in the grate.
“Cosmos—”
“Where,” he said, without turning, “have you been?”
I swallowed. “With Steele.”
He turned so swiftly I flinched.
“At four in the morning?” His voice was dangerously soft. “Explain.”
“We went to the Lambeth Parish mortuary,” I said.
“A mortuary?” Outrage, horror bled into his words. After a brief struggle to collect himself, he demanded, “To what end?”
I drew a steadying breath. “Steele and I have been investigating the disappearance of several young women. Girls who vanished without a trace. He made enquiries at Scotland Yard. Tonight, he received word that another body had been recovered.”
“How did you find out about this?” Cosmos asked.
“He sent a message earlier. He had received copies of the reports from Scotland Yard—files on the women who had gone missing. There were so many that he wanted me to review them with him. When news came that a body had been found on the Thames, we knew we had to determine if she was one of the missing.”
“And so you went,” he said, his tone hardening. “Without a word to this household.”
“Yes, I did.”
The silence that followed was far worse than his shouting.
“A mortuary is no place for a lady,” he said at last. “You should not have gone. Steele should not have allowed it.”
“We had to see her before the Yard interfered. Before evidence disappeared. Before—”
“You should not have been out at all,” he cut in. “You should have been in your bed where you belong, not involved in some tawdry investigation.”
I met his gaze. “Cosmos, please. This is not about impropriety. This is—”
He pounded the desk so hard, I jumped.
“It is precisely about impropriety!”
He stepped toward me, face pale with fury. I’d never seen him like this.
“You left this house in the middle of the night. Without notice. Without a chaperone. You returned with lanterns lit across the square so everyone could see you sneaking back into Rosehaven House.”
“I came in through the rear entrance.”
“Do not interrupt me, Rosalynd! No respectable woman visits any man—duke or otherwise—in the dead of night.”
My blood iced.
“By morning, half the neighborhood will know,” he continued. “The servants will whisper. The gossips will feast. And Petunia—Petunia woke screaming for you because you were not here.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
“I didn’t think—”
“No,” he said. “You did not.”
“I thought the household would sleep.”
“You thought wrong.”
He paced away, then back, agitation radiating from every step.
“You are my sister, Rosalynd. I care for you. But ever since you involved yourself in these investigations along with Steele, you’ve invited scandal at every turn.
” He stopped pacing and glared at me. “Have you forgotten this is Chrissie’s debut season?
If she’s to receive a respectable offer of marriage, you cannot run off to Steele every bloody time he asks. ”
“I was not alone,” I snapped. “Milford was there. And Steele and I were working in his study. That is all.”
Cosmos’s eyes narrowed. “Are you honestly offering his butler as a chaperone? A servant who owes his living to him? The world won’t care a fig about that.”
A cold dread uncurled in my stomach.
Scandal.
Of course, it would be a scandal.
And if my grandmother learned about it—
Cosmos pressed his fists to the mantel.
“Tell me everything,” he said. “Everything you’ve done.” His voice gentled only slightly. “And then you will tell me how you intend to prevent this family from collapsing under the weight of your outrageous behavior.”
So I told him.
Quietly. Carefully. Without sparing the details of the dead girl or the Yard’s negligence.
He listened, anger slowly reshaping into something sharper.
Fear.
When I finished, he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. “This path will destroy your reputation.”
There was nothing I could say to that. It was likely the truth.
“And Steele’s involvement—”
“Is vital to the investigation.”
His expression tightened. “Can you honestly tell me that’s the only reason?”
I had no answer that would soothe him.
He exhaled hard. “I will not forbid you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Father tried that with Mother once, and it broke something in them both.”
He faced me full on.
“But understand me clearly, Rosalynd. If word spreads—if even a hint of impropriety reaches the wrong ears—I will take action.”
My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll demand he marry you.”