Free Fearless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 1): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series by Nicola Claire Page B

was eating her insides.
    “Drummond will be here soon,” I said quietly. “Constable, cordon off the street at Custom House end. Don’t let anyone through here who hasn’t been invited.”
    “Yes, sir,” Mackey replied, tipping his hat at Anna and hurrying off to the end of the street.
    “Sergeant, take my curricle and return Miss Cassidy to her home, if you would.”
    “Of course, sir.” He walked off some distance allowing me a last moment of privacy with Anna.
    “And you?” she asked, returning her soiled glove to her bare hand and then reaching down to her parasol where it leaned against a wall. She’d attempted to wipe the evidence clean, but blood smeared her fingertips and palm, coating her clothes in a dark crimson. She was a sight, my Anna. My scarlet Suffragette. Delightfully regardless of propriety.
    And not mine. A fact I must not forget.
    “I will canvas the immediate area,” I replied. “Police work, Miss Cassidy. The case will require more than just the physical assessment of the crime.”
    It was a harsh way to remind her, that although her talents and skills were formidable, they were not the entirety of what would be required to solve these murders. I needed to do my work now. And she needed to go home.
    “And we are back to Miss Cassidy again,” she said without rancour.
    To me, she would always be Anna. But perhaps that was the problem.
    I twisted my cane in my hand and then tapped it on the ground as a reminder. To her. To me. To the whole damned world. Some things were not meant to be.
    And some things would be lost to us for eternity.
    “Very good, Inspector,” she offered, her shoulders back, her parasol open and offering suitable cover. She looked a picture.
    If one failed to note the blood.
    She walked a few feet away, my eyes seemingly drawn to her form irrevocably. I wanted her to turn back. She didn’t.
    But she did whisper over her shoulder, “Find him. Please find him, Inspector.”
    And for once, I wished she’d call me something other. For once, I wished to her I was simply Andrew. Her Andrew.
    Like she was simply my Anna… In every way but reality.

Nine
    To Equality!
    Anna
    I entered the hall at precisely two-thirty. Anger still wrapping itself securely about my frame. My movements were stiff, my back straight. My eyes glinting with suppressed ire.
    Sergeant Blackmore had been quiet on the ride to my home, thankfully; aware I was raging inside and respecting my need for silence. But sleep had still not come easily this morning, after he’d returned me to Franklin Street with such studious care. Anger is not so easy to quieten.
    To be so close to participating on a case and have it stolen from within my grasp was unconscionable. I could hardly blame Inspector Kelly. But then, it was easy to turn my irritation towards the man.
    Chalmers I could never accost, but the inspector? That was an entirely other thing.
    Still, crossing paths with him was unlikely to occur here. At a Suffragette meeting.
    I looked about the room at the twenty or so women who had faithfully attended. Mrs Ethel Poynton stood centre stage at the front of two rows of neatly lined chairs, holding court as only she seemed capable. Wilhelmina offered a brief squeeze of my hand and then made a beeline for her friend, Helen Nelson, leaving me to my own devices.
    I hadn’t told her. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Ethel Poynton. Inspector Kelly wanted the second murder to remain out of the papers. Announcing to the women present, that another Suffragette had been brutally slaughtered, wouldn’t affect that outcome. He was right, panic would ensue.
    But they needed to be cautious. They needed to be aware that their activities could bring them harm. I had to warn them.
    I sucked in a deep breath of air and approached Mrs Poynton.
    “We will not let poor Margaret’s demise sway us from our chosen path to light and freedom,” Ethel was saying to the small group of women who surrounded her. “Margaret