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But time could not fix everything. It wouldn’t help Jasper escape Andrew, or his own past.

At Trafalgar Square and Charing Cross Road, Leo hesitated—then turned toward Scotland Yard. Jasper might not be in his office on a Sunday morning. But something told her that he’d slept just as poorly as she had, and whenever he could not sleep, he found solace in his work. If he wasn’t there, she’d try Charles Street after finishing up at the morgue. She needed to know what had happened at the pub.

She came through Craig’s Court and into the yard, for which the police headquarters was named. She moved aside to avoid uniformed constables and the ragtag men they were leading toward the building in cuffs, as well as a few police wagons coming and going. It was busy already, though it was not yet eight o’clock. Instantly, Leo felt the thrum of excitement she always experienced when at Scotland Yard. The commotion and purpose gave her a thrill, and as she entered the lobby, she realized how much she’d missed it.

Ever since she and Jasper had started to court officially, she’d sent reports to the CID via messenger, and now she considered that she might have been unintentionally avoiding the place out of concern for how Jasper’s fellow officers and superiors would react to the change in her status.

An unfamiliar constable manned the lobby desk, rather than Constable Woodhouse, who was likely enjoying his day off at home with his family.

“Can I help you, miss?” the constable said.

“I’m looking for Inspector Reid. Is he in this morning?”

The constable looked her over. “Name?”

“Miss Leonora Spencer. I am an acquaintance of the inspector’s.”

The constable’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course, Miss Spencer, do go in.”

She entered the narrow corridor, strangely rattled by the man’s instant graciousness. He’d recognized her name. Was Jasper’s courtship with her really so well-known at the Yard?

As she walked through to the detective department, she was glad to see Constable Horace Wiley’s desk empty. Except for two men at their desks, the CID was relatively empty and hushed. She made her way toward Jasper’s office, slowing as she approached the threshold. He was seated at his desk, poring over a case file, with a stack of other reports at his elbow. She rapped her knuckles on the wood frame, and he glanced up.

“Leo?” He stood, and she noticed smudges of exhaustion under his eyes. His tousled hair and rumpled clothing added to his weary appearance. Somehow, the bedraggled look only made him more handsome. It hit her with a wallop as she entered his office. How was it possible that just looking at Jasper could steal her breath?

“Close the door.” The order surprised her, as did the sober tone in which he said it.

Leo did as he requested, though with some trepidation. “Do you want this door shut because you’re going to shout at me?”

He came around the desk. “That isn’t why.”

“It isn’t?”

“No,” he said, not slowing as he neared. “I want the door shut because I am going to kiss you.”

Jasper pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Leo melted against him in stunned mystification. She hadn’t expected a kiss so soon after their argument and certainly not here, in his office, where anyone could walk in at any moment.

He lifted his mouth from hers but kept her close against him. “I don’t want to be at odds, Leo.”

She closed her eyes as his forehead rested against hers. “Neither do I.”

“I’m sorry for my attitude last night,” he said. “It isn’t your fault that you crossed paths with Andrew.”

He stood tall again and loosened his embrace, putting an inch of space between them. Leo worried someone might open the door to his office, but not enough to part from him entirely.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “I worried all night about what might have happened. Did you speak to your cousin?”

“I did. I also found Cillian Carter.”

Despite her desire only a second ago to remain in Jasper’s arms, Leo jerked back. “You did? Was Tabitha with him?”

Jasper, his countenance grim, answered, “No. Cillian was alone. And he was dead.”

“Oh, no. Oh, God.” Her legs unexpectedly feeling wobbly, she went to the chair in front of his desk and sat.

“His throat had been cut, and he’d been tossed into the Thames. The state of his body suggests he had been in the water for days. Possibly the whole of the week he’s been missing,” Jasper explained.

Concern for Tabitha mounted. If Cillian had been murdered, there was a high probability that Mr. Pierce’s wife had also suffered the same fate.