The Dead Duke
Page 17
“Whatever his reasons, Joe killed someone. He must pay for it.”
She twisted a handkerchief between her hands. “If he had killed someone working class with good reason, then he might well face transportation or lose a hand. Because he murdered a duke he will certainly hang. How is that fair?”
“We had no choice,” he repeated.
“Yes, we did,” she insisted. “We should never have got involved in this kind of work. I thought we could help people, but we have done the opposite.”
“Only on this occasion,” he argued. “We found out what happened to Aileas, which helped her family.”
“And her killer was released with only a fine.”
“He did not deliberately murder her.”
“And he was a viscount,” she said bitterly. She jumped up from her chair, unable to remain still any longer, and walked over to the window.
“What can I do?” Mr MacPherson asked quietly.
She looked back into his concerned eyes and felt only confusion. She had been ready to marry him and she had been sure that what they were doing was right. “I need to take some time to decide whether I want to continue solving crimes. If we do more harm than good, then it is meaningless.”
“You should do whatever is best for you,” he said and part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms. She knew that nothing was more important to him than her happiness; his actions had made that clear time and again. Her actions, on the other hand, had wrecked her own reputation and, were she ever to marry him, would damage his standing in society. It had not seemed so important when she thought they were doing something useful and necessary, but now she could not help thinking how much easier his life would be if he married someone else.
But she loved him.
She swallowed, the words like ashes in her mouth as she said, “I think that we should not see each other at all for the time being.”
The expression in his eyes made her heart ache. “Surely I could still call here as your friend?”
“Our entire relationship is based around our working partnership. Without that, we would have to rediscover who we are and what we have in common.”
“I thought we had more together than the work.” He looked pale, strong cheekbones standing out sharply in his face. “After everything we have said to each other and endured together...” He tailed off and got abruptly to his feet.
“Ewan, I am so sorry.”
He bowed to her as though to a stranger. “Good day, Miss Campbell.”
She watched him turn and walk towards the door and everything in her said to go after him and take back her words, but she did not know anymore if she belonged in his life.
He left the room and, seconds later, she heard the front door click shut behind him.
What had she done?
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