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“I already am, Jasper.”

Hell. She was right. She was involved, merely by being part of his life. He’d always hated that he was a Carter by birth but never more so than right then.

There was no choice. He would have to meet with Andrew. If he didn’t, he risked Scotland Yard learning the truth about who he really was. It would mean complete ruin for him. A colossal lie had formed the bedrock of Jasper’s life, and Andrew could demolish it if he wanted. Not only that, but if he were to inform the rest of the Carters and East Rips about what their long-lost cousin James had done, Jasper would have a target on his back. So would Leo and anyone else he loved.

As their carriage crossed the Westminster Bridge, he scrubbed his palm against the bristle of his beard. “I will go alone to see what he wants.”

But Jasper would not—ever—compromise his duty to the Yard. Or his oath to the law. Though he hadn’t yet spoken of it to Leo, he’d given it some thought over the last six months. Jasper would rather step down from the Metropolitan Police Force and implore Leo, her uncle and aunt, and Mrs. Zhao to leave London with him, if need be, than submit to Andrew Carter’s blackmail. Of course, he hoped it would never come to that. But Jasper was prepared.

“Please don’t shut me out, Jasper,” Leo said. “I want to know what Mr. Carter asks of you.”

He abhorred the idea of coming to heel like a dog for his cousin. Possessing Carter blood plagued him in a way Leo could never understand. If he allowed it to, it would taint his entire life.

“I will tell you,” he promised. “And I am also sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“For ruining our carriage ride home.” He tried to make light of the moment, wanting only to see her smile. It worked.

“Don’t be daft.” She took his hand and leaned closer to him. Jasper reveled in the weight of her body against his and was tempted to bring her onto his lap as he had earlier on their way to Lambeth. But with the letter, Andrew’s presence had infiltrated their carriage, blotting out any chance of focusing solely on one another.

“I’m going to visit Mrs. Lawlor tomorrow,” Leo said, thankfully changing the subject.

“I’ll be calling on her as well after I speak to Chief Coughlan about the case,” Jasper replied. “So, we should go together.”

Genuine pleasure lit Leo’s face. “I like that idea.”

“I’ll meet you at the morgue at ten o’clock. If Connor can spare you,” he added.

She pursed her lips with consternation. “I’m sure he will complain. But leave it to me.”

Charing Cross was a busy hub at all hours, but the crowds were especially dense at quarter to eight in the morning. Jasper had arrived early for his meeting with Andrew and had taken up position in the forecourt of the hotel and station, at the base of the Queen Eleanor Memorial Cross. Carriages, hansoms, and pedestrians flowed around the ornate spire memorial while Jasper kept an eye peeled for one of Andrew’s hired men.

A lead weight had sat heavy in his stomach all night. Andrew must have had someone watching Leo, following her, and that Jasper had been oblivious to his machinations was infuriating. It only proved that there was no way he could protect Leo at all hours of the day. Even if they married and she lived with him, he would not be able to keep her by his side at all times. If anything, being his wife would only make Leo more of a target. Or a pawn.

It was in despondent moments like this one when Jasper wished he had left the Inspector’s home long ago. Before he could fall in love with Leo. It was too late now, of course. There was no going back, so Jasper would just have to find a way forward. How it would be done eluded him.

It didn’t matter that he was a man of thirty years, he still would have liked for his father to be alive, so that he could ask for his advice.

Jasper kept his hands in his coat pockets as he stood immobile at the memorial’s pedestal. These thoughts were like thorns, pricking him from the underside of his skin. The only balm for them was to replace them with thoughts of Leo.

Last night, while having dinner with Roy’s family, Jasper had felt something rare: envy. He hadn’t experienced that feeling since last summer when he’d been under the impression that Leo and Connor Quinn might have formed some attachment while working together at the morgue. That suspicion had been unfounded, to his great relief, but this envy was different in form. Watching Roy interact with his wife and children, seeing them at home, at ease and happy, had put Jasper in mind of what it would be like to have those same things for himself. Going home to Leo every night and waking up to her each morning had become part of a vision he could not deny wanting to make a reality.

A carriage pulled up in front of the memorial, severing the satisfying image of Leo, morning sunlight burnishing her dark hair as she lay in bed beside him. It scattered like road dust as the bulky man riding next to the driver climbed down. It was one of the two brawny hired men Andrew kept.

“Weapon,” the man ordered.

Jasper held aside his coat panels so that the man would see he had no weapon, unlike the last time Andrew had forced him into a carriage ride. He’d anticipated there being constables patrolling the busy train station this morning and didn’t want to be seen handing over his police-issued gun.

The hired man grunted and opened the carriage door. Jasper stepped in and took the bench across from his cousin. Andrew wore a fur-collared coat, a top hat, and leather gloves, looking more like a financier than a criminal. He was five years younger than Jasper but over the last several months, he’d grown a mustache that made him look a little older.

“I see our Miss Spencer gave you my message,” Andrew said with a note of cheerfulness that did not match his intense, ice-blue stare.

Jasper held himself back from saying that she wasn’t ‘our’ anything. Andrew wanted to prod him into a reaction, and he had no plans to give it to him.

“Games are for children, Andrew. If you want to talk to me, come to me.”

His cousin bristled infinitesimally. He maintained his façade of pleasantry with a tight, coy smile.