“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Hugh demanded.
“Now, don’t go all Mrs. Weasley on us,” Isobel said, shutting the front door. “We went back to the theater to check something out.”
“You could have at least told me you were going!”
Delphi and Sunil exchanged a glance and slunk off toward the living room, but Hugh stood his ground in the foyer.
“I thought you were asleep, and as my mother says, bad news can always wait,” Isobel said.
Hugh eyed her suspiciously. “What bad news?”
She swallowed. “It’s Thomas. He’s been killed.”
He struggled to make sense of her words, but it was too incredible. “Thomas? How? When?”
“Someone smashed him on the head in the alley behind the theater, probably during the show. We found him after you left.”
A wave of nausea overtook him, and he leaned against the wall to steady himself. “That’s just awful. Bloody awful.”
Isobel gave a little hiccup. “Possibly not the best choice of words.”
“Lord, you’re right. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s okay,” she said, reaching for his arm. “It’s not like there was anything you could have done, and at least you didn’t have to see what we saw.”
He pulled away, gripped suddenly by a combination of fear, anger, and hurt as her actions sank in. “And you went back? Without telling me any of this?”
“You didn’t honestly think something had happened—to all three of us?”
“I didn’t know! And now with two people dead, it isn’t exactly unreasonable to fear that whoever is knocking off members of our company is getting more efficient in his removal technique!”
To his immense annoyance, Isobel burst out laughing. “That’s one of the things I love about you,” she sputtered. “You can be mad as hell, but you still manage to turn a pretty phrase.”
He grabbed her hand. “We have to talk.”
She pulled back, her expression veiled. “We are talking.”
“You know what I mean.”
She gave an exaggerated yawn. “Look, it’s late and it’s been a difficult night. Can we talk in the morning?”
If he were back in Cambridge, if she were an English girl, he’d back off in an instant. Then again, things would never have come to this pass in the first place. Their native reserve would have kept their tempers in check, and eventually they’d simply have drifted apart. But Isobel was so confounding that he knew he had to be aggressive like an American or he might never have the guts to confront her again.
“Now.” A wheedling note crept into his voice, and he despised himself for it. “Please?”
“Your place or mine?”
“Mine.”
She followed him silently down the hall to his room, which was adjacent to Sunil’s. She sat on his bed, and he felt her eyes on him, following as he paced.
“I’ve hardly seen you since Delphi got here.”
“It’s safe to say we’ve all been a bit busy since then.”
He shook his head sadly. “It isn’t that. It’s like you’ve gone into full detective mode with your friends, and the whole reason we were excited to work together—so we could have some time alone—just went out the window.”
“You once said you’d totally support me any time I wanted to investigate a crime.”
“I do. But that doesn’t mean I want to be left out completely.”
She gave a tiny squeak. “You’re jealous!”
He cringed and ran his fingers through his hair. “You make me sound like a year-nine girl. But all right, maybe I am. It’s more than that, though. I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just say it.”
This was the moment he had been dreading. Once he gave voice to the niggling doubt that had been plaguing him since they started dating, there was no going back. Either she would dispel his fears and their relationship would continue to grow, or she would confirm them and that would be the end. Then again, he had been the one to insist on this conversation. It was time.
“I’m never entirely sure how you feel about me.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Let me finish. I mean, obviously you don’t find me repulsive, but there are times when I feel…” He pulled off his glasses and rubbed them roughly on his shirttail. “I don’t know how to say this and not sound like a total wanker…sometimes I think you’re more attracted to my talent and to what you think I can do for you professionally than you are to me.”
God, that sounded awful, he thought, but he’d made his point. He glanced at her to see how she’d taken it and realized he couldn’t make out her expression without his glasses. He put them back on, but they were cloudier than before. Still, he was able to register her response, and the best way he could describe it was caught out. In an instant, however, this morphed into something aggrieved, but then, just as quickly, her lip twitched and she looked like she was about to cry.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. A single tear slid down her cheek.
His heart sank. He was right. But before he could say anything, she went on.
“I won’t lie. Part of what attracts me to you is your talent. I mean, my God, you’re amazing! But I also think you’re incredibly attractive. I wouldn’t be sleeping with you if I didn’t think so. But the truth is…” A second tear chased the first, and she wrung his blanket between her hands. “I don’t know if it’s…”
“Love?” He felt the room swim a tiny bit. “I guess on some level I always suspected I felt more for you than you for me.”
She rose and took his hands in hers. “Does it have to be a full-on serious commitment? Can’t we be dating without having to make pronouncements and measure our feelings on some scale of indifference to marriage?”
He pulled his hands away. “You want to solve the murders, and I want to think. Maybe we should keep our relationship professionally friendly for the time being. When the show is over and we’re back in New York, we can…reevaluate.”
An expression that might have been relief flickered across her pert features, and she sighed. “Oh, Hugh. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sure we can find a way.”
He nodded bravely. “I’m sure we can, too. Perhaps just not right now.”