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he’d be happier leading a different life. She
had no tolerance for others telling her what to do, and she would
not be a hypocrite.
    He had always promised to be by her side, and though
she may have pushed him away after Imogene’s death, it had still
been his choice to leave for the Outlands, his promise broken,
though she could not say it was entirely his fault.
    “I give the only way I know how.” Frustration, hurt
and anger were all evident in his voice. “Phoebe, please. Why can
you not see that? I would give it all up if it would make you
happy, but I cannot believe that is what you truly want. Do you
want the Cause to fail? For the innocent to continue to
suffer?”
    Angry and incredibly hurt that he would think her so
selfish, she spat, “How can you say that?” She turned to look into
his eyes, her heart aching. “Do you think I’d stand idly by and
watch others suffer? Do you not think I’ve done my share to help in
your absence?” If he didn’t already know that she’d do her part to
help, then what hope did they have?
    “Missions aren’t the only way to help, Seth, but
you’re never willing to find a happy medium.” She turned away from
him. “I shouldn’t have to ask you to stay.” A tear slid down her
cheek. “And if you cannot figure that out, if you cannot figure out
a way to keep us together, then maybe you should leave.”
    She didn’t turn to watch him go— she couldn’t; for
all she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and tell her he
would not leave, tell her all would be right. But instead she heard
his quiet footsteps as he walked out of the room, just as he had
done a year before.

Chapter Five
     
    After making sure the body was delivered to the
morgue, William had gone to Lord Niles Hawthorne’s place of work,
though he had little luck. Lord Hawthorne’s employers would not
grant him access to the cases he’d been working on as a solicitor,
but said they knew of nothing that would lead to his death and of
no one who would wish him harm.
    William had sent out requests to those that may be
able to help, calling in what favors he could to gain copies of the
case files. It would take some time, but he did not doubt he’d
eventually have any information pertinent to the case, so he could
follow up on any leads.
    The coach pulled up to Lord Niles Hawthorne’s home.
The flat was located in the decent yet trendy neighborhood of
Bedford Square, in a spacious and elegant home. A footman, already
expecting him, escorted him to Lord Hawthorne’s quarters.
    The décor was distinctly male— deep burgundies
accented with rich browns, leather and velvet— the colors and
fabrics were well-chosen, darker and heavier in appearance than
rooms designed by a woman—or with a woman in mind. A bachelor
himself, he was all too familiar with how a woman’s touch could
lighten a room and add a sense of charm .
    All too often, William thought of how nice it would
be to have someone to come home to after a hard day at work,
especially in the cold and wet weather—someone to talk to, share
the day with. But an inspector’s life was one of long hours,
limited compensation, and little respect. Not exactly what a woman
would be looking for in a husband.
    The flat consisted of a large sitting room, a
library, and the sleeping quarters. Each room could hold a clue
that would help him with his investigation, but spotting the desk
in the library, William decided to start there.
    Rifling through the drawers, William found a few
pieces of personal correspondence, but a cursory review proved it
to be nothing out of the ordinary. He continued his search, and was
ready to move on to the bookshelf when he came across a playbill,
listing the upcoming shows at Viridis. It appeared that William’s
original conclusion as to why Lord Hawthorne had been in the area
was indeed correct.
    Turning the paper over, he spotted some scrawled
writing. Yesterday’s date and a time were scrawled in the upper
corner.