Lord and Lady Spy by Shana Galen

arousing suspicion, and Liverpool had made it clear no one had any idea who the killer might be.
    If the killer had managed to enter the house and find Jenkinson without alerting Jenkinson’s wife or any of the servants, that meant either the killer had been in the house before or knew the layout. Or perhaps the killer lived in the house.
    The wife? The valet? Another servant? “What about the valet?” Sophia said aloud.
    “The valet?” Adrian said, appearing to study the vestibule as well. She wondered what Agent Wolf saw in the cramped, gloomy room. Something she didn’t? “I’ll question him.”
    She sighed. Would everything be a struggle with him? “If you think I’m going to sit back and allow you to wrest control of this investigation from me, then—” She closed her mouth when she heard the butler’s step.
    “We’ll discuss it later,” Adrian said, gray eyes hard as steel.
    “No we won’t,” she muttered.
    “Mrs. Jenkinson is at home and will see you in the drawing room. If you’ll follow me, Lord and Lady Smythe.” He started up the stairs, and Sophia followed with Adrian behind her.
    The drawing room, Sophia noted. Not the parlor, where the butler had sought Mrs. Jenkinson and where she had probably been entertaining her other guests. No, the drawing room was for formal callers. Which she supposed they were, being as she didn’t know Lady Jenkinson from the Queen.
    Well, actually, she had met the Queen…
    “Lord and Lady Smythe,” the butler intoned after throwing the drawing-room doors open.
    Sophia stepped inside a room somewhat less gloomy than the vestibule and stared as a woman in the middle stages of pregnancy rose to greet her.
    Sophia felt her heart stutter, and a great lump rose in her throat. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Nothing but a horrible groaning sound.
    Quite suddenly, she felt Adrian’s hand on her back. His touch was warm, steadying. He pulled her close and said, “Mrs. Jenkinson, how good to finally meet you at last. My wife tells me so much of your charitable works with the orphans.”
    He drew her forward, and somehow Sophia forced her legs to move closer and closer to the pregnant woman before her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look at anything but the woman’s pregnant belly, and she wanted nothing more than escape. She would have preferred to stand before a firing squad rather than remain one moment more in this woman’s presence. Her brain screamed, her hands shook, and her heart pounded. Only by concentrating on the feel of Adrian’s hand at her back did she remain upright.
    “The orphans?” Mrs. Jenkinson looked confused, but she indicated a settee. Adrian sat and pulled Sophia down beside him.
    “You and Sophia are both members of the Benevolent Society for the Aid and Prosperity of Orphans. Correct?” He looked at Sophia, playing the doting husband. “Did I make a muddle of the name again, dear?”
    “Ah—” She cleared her throat. “No. That’s it. Darling,” she added the endearment too late. And how did he suddenly rattle off the name perfectly? She was going to have to pay closer attention to him. She kept forgetting he was Agent Wolf.
    She kept forgetting everything—except Mrs. Jenkinson’s condition. After the last loss, Sophia had been so careful to avoid pregnant women. Now Mrs. Jenkinson absently rubbed a hand over her belly, and Sophia felt her heart constrict. Could Mrs. Jenkinson see how Sophia longed to feel her own belly swell with child? Could Adrian see her heart breaking? She couldn’t take this anymore. She had to get away.
    She tried to rise, but Adrian gripped her hand and yanked her down.
    “Oh, of course,” Mrs. Jenkinson said. “I’m afraid I haven’t attended many meetings lately. I’ve been in mourning.”
    Mourning. Of course. Her husband was dead, murdered. Focus on the mission.
    But Adrian stepped in before Sophia’s foggy mind cleared completely.
    “We were saddened to hear of the death of