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“What happened during that encounter?” Electra asked.

“He tossed me into a carriage, got in beside me, and we argued all the way to Mount Street. By the time we arrived, I showed him your card, Miss Poole. I wanted him to know how close I had gotten to his secret paramour. I hadn’t intended to give it to him, but he snatched it from my hand.”

“Lady Redmayne was no longer his paramour.” Electra knew it was not the time to rush to Cordelia’s defense, but she could not stop herself.

Demeter Devlin smiled. “But that changed nothing as far as Percival was concerned, did it? He still pursued her. And he would still wish to protect her.”

“So you threatened to blackmail him?”

Mrs. Devlin scoffed. Tears began to slip down her cheeks.

Electra didn’t know if they were for herself, Pennington, or what had happened between them.

“I thought I had the upper hand, but he threatened me. The moment I mentioned exposing Lady Redmayne’s affair with him.” She swiped at her tears. “He shouted and I cowered. Just as I had with Phineas.”

A rasping laugh burst out of her. “I went there to confront him, and minutes later, I was desperate to get away from him.”

She drew in a shuddering breath. “He looked at me, his eyes on my throat, like he wanted to choke the life out of me.”

Eyes wide, she looked up at them, flitting her gaze from Electra to Gideon. “That’s when I ran. I scrambled out of the carriage, and he got down after me. I actually feared he’d give chase, but I ran away as quickly as I could. I found another carriage, stepped into it, and went to Soho Square. To Lance’s.”

“Was Lance Pennington there?” Gideon asked.

“No, but I needed him. I was in quite a state. Angry. Frightened. Sick with myself for what I'd done.”

“And did you see him that night?” Gideon had bent forward. Electra could sense his anticipation. As if he had finally found the thread that he could follow in order to unravel the murder.

“Yes, he eventually came, and he was strange. Shockingly affectionate, almost giddy. But I felt so ugly for what I’d done, and I feared telling him truth. I knew it would break his heart.”

Miss Mahoney offered the kerchief again, but Mrs. Devlin seemed not to notice, so lost in her retelling. Tears flowed freely, and she was doing nothing to dry them.

“But I didn't want any more lies.” Mrs. Devlin’s cheeks had reddened, and her voice had become ragged. “I sat with him on his bed and took his hands in mine, determined to tell him the truth, whatever the consequences.” She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. “That's when I saw the blood.”

Electra stood from her chair and went to sit on the other side of Mrs. Devlin, offering her a dry handkerchief from her own pocket.

Mrs. Devlin took the square and dried her tears, then Electra clasped her hand, uncertain how she might respond.

Mrs. Devlin clung to her. “He told me that he had seen me arguing with his brother on Mount Street, and he insisted that I go away with him.” She squeezed Electra’s hand harder and faced her, green eyes locked on Electra’s.

“So Lance Pennington was at Mount Street that evening?” Gideon asked.

“He must have been.” Mrs. Devlin glanced at Electra. “I was so frightened, Miss Poole. I did not know what he had done, but there was a mad glint in his eyes.”

Electra saw flashes, not images that played out before her like a memory. Just flashes. Like photographs being displayed and then fading in her mind. The face of Lance Pennington, the handsome young man she’d seen at the inquest. He looked as Mrs. Devlin described. Frantic and with a maddened kind of glee.

She tried to focus the vision. Even closed her eyes. A man’s hands. Blood covering them until they were stained crimson. Blood on his shirt cuffs.

“I asked what he had done,” Mrs. Devlin whispered, pulling Electra from the images. “He told me not to worry and that Percival would never trouble me again.”

“What did you do then?” Gideon asked.

“I lied.” She notched up her chin as she said it. “Said I had money saved and vowed I would leave with him. I urged him to collect his belongings and said I would go to Regent Square to do the same. We agreed that he would come to me that night.”

“But you didn’t return to Regent Square,” Electra said softly, knowing it somehow.

Mrs. Devlin shook her head. “I went to Victoria Station and boarded a train. I bought a ticket to Brighton, but the next morning, at a café, another traveler had a London newspaper. I saw the headline about Percival’s murder, and I realized what Lance had done.”

“She came back out of fear for me,” Miss Mahoney said quietly.