Chapter 48

“Captain Smythe?”

I looked up and nearly swallowed my tongue. “Arch…” But of course it wasn’t him. This man’s hair was black shot with silver, and his eyes were a wintry grey, whereas Arch had been a redhead—the literal redheaded stepchild, and had honey-brown eyes. “I beg your pardon, sir. You look a good deal like your son.”

“I don’t know about whom you’re referring.” His glance was as cold as his eyes. “About what did you wish to see me?”

I took the case from my jacket pocket, opened it, and turned it so he could see the contents.

“I thought you might want this. Your son was awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions in Africa.”

“I have no son who was in Africa.”

“Arch Cutter—”

“The man you refer to as my son was a sodomite.”

“He was a good man, whose actions saved my life.”

“Did you not understand me? Archibald Cutter persisted in performing unnatural acts.”

“That’s immaterial. He was a brave man. What he did in the privacy of his bedroom was no one else’s business.”