Bedford Street Brigade 01 - Where the Lady Belongs

by Laura Landon

  “Are you good at what you do?”

  Mack couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I don’t know if one could say I’m good, but I’m determined. I refuse to give up until each case is solved.”

  Miss Lane turned toward him and studied him with a narrowed gaze.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I think you are being modest. I believe you are not only good at what you do but also one of the best. I also think that what you do is dangerous.”

  “I wouldn’t say dangerous exactly. Perhaps ‘exciting’ better describes it.” Mack stood and offered her his hand. “Now, what about you? You promised to tell me your story.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” she said after they’d continued their walk. “I fell in love when I was quite young. My hero was dashing and romantic and every young girl’s fantasy come true. He was titled—an earl—and had come to stay with his cousin for the summer. He wooed and courted me and promised me his undying love. I, in return, gave him my heart and soul and … my virtue. I was blissfully happy, until the summer ended and my knight in shining armor returned to London. It was not even a month later when I read of his engagement in the paper. To the daughter of a Marquess.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mack whispered.

  “There’s no need. That was a long time ago. I’ve learned much since then, especially how to avoid being caught up in relationships that will never develop.”

  “Is that why you told me? So that I would be repulsed by you and your youthful indiscretion?”

  She stopped and turned toward him. “I don’t know. You are the first person with whom I’ve ever shared my past. Even my sister does not know how foolish I was.”

  “Then I consider myself special. I will guard your secret as if it were my own.”

  Miss Lane lowered her gaze. “I’m not sure why I thought it important that you know, but I did.”

  “I appreciate your honesty. Although, considering the people I’ve seen and the things they’re capable of doing, your admission hardly registers in my world.”

  Miss Lane smiled at him, then they continued on their way. When they entered the house, Hugh and Quinn were waiting for them in Mr. Walker’s study. They both rose when Cora and he entered.

  “Your sister sent what she thought you’d need for a day or two, miss,” Hugh said when they were in the room. “She also sent your drawing things. She said you’d miss them if you didn’t have them.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Baxter,” she said. “Did you assure her that I was safe and not to worry?”

  “Yes, miss, I did. But she said that was impossible.”

  “Did you speak with Sir George, Quinn?” Mack asked.

  “Yes. He was still visibly shaken after this afternoon’s event. He was quite fond of his Undersecretary. Said the fellow had a bright future ahead of him.”

  “Did he leave a family?” Cora asked.

  “No, miss. He was unmarried.”

  “Oh, that is one good thing, then.”

  “Yes.” Quinn turned to Mack. “The Home Secretary looks forward to your visit tomorrow, Mack. He is most anxious that you find who did this. I assured him that you would.”

  At that moment, Harper interrupted to tell them dinner was served. “Does that mean that Sir George intends to hire you to investigate this?” Cora asked.

  “It wouldn’t matter if he intended to or not,” Mack said, hooking her arm through his elbow to escort her in to dinner. “I don’t intend to rest until the killer is behind bars.”

  Mack thought he heard Miss Lane breathe a heavy sigh. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right. More than that, he wanted to assure her that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He found that her safety was very important to him.

  The four of them went in to dinner. He and Hugh and Quinn talked throughout the meal and came to the conclusion that Sir George was the intended target. Mack couldn’t shake the feeling that the motive was a sinister response to some decision the Home Secretary had made.

  When Hugh finished his meal, he volunteered to take over for Jack and let him come in to eat. He left the room, and the talk turned from being so serious.

  “Do you have a wife and family, Mr. Walker?” she asked Quinn.

  “Please call me Quinn,” he answered. “The only other person who calls me mister is the pastor when I go to church. And that has a way of unsettling a person, the same as when my mother called me Quintin Andrew. Still has a way of making me shiver in my boots.”

  Miss Lane smiled. “Very well. And you must call me Cora. I would like that,” she said, looking first at Quinn, then turning to Mack.

  “Well, Cora, to answer your question, no, I don’t have a wife or family. In our line of work, it’s difficult to have a family. Most wives expect their husbands to be home in the evening. Often that time is most critical to an investigation.”

  Cora seemed to think that over. “I hadn’t thought of that. It would make sense, though. I imagine it would take a very special kind of woman to put up with your erratic schedule.”

  “That it would,” Quinn answered, then looked up when Jack entered the room.

  Mack took one look at Jack’s serious expression, and every nerve in his body went on the alert. “Do we have a problem?”

  Jack gave a quick nod. “It’s possible our man followed Miss Lane here. The same carriage has gone past several times already. It slows when it goes past the front of the house. I tried following it on foot, but lost it.”

  Cora placed her napkin on the table beside her plate. “He’s found me, then,” she said in a voice that wasn’t as fearful as Mack expected.

  Then she looked him in the eyes and said, “Good. That will make it easier to catch him.”

  Chapter Four

  Cora could only remain at the table so long before her nerves forced her to leave. She would have found their conversation interesting if they’d been talking about something that didn’t involve her. But their thought process as to how they would go about trapping the killer was more than a little unsettling. Especially after everything that had happened today.

  “If you gentlemen will excuse me,” she said, placing her napkin beside her plate, “I think I’ll retire for the evening. It’s been a long day.”

  “Of course.” The three men rose to their feet.

  Mr. Wallace stepped to her chair. “Allow me to escort you to your room, Miss Lane.”

  “Thank you,” she said, then placed her hand on his arm. Before she left, she turned to face the men standing at the table. “Thank you for everything you did today. I appreciate your assistance.”

  “Our pleasure, miss,” Quinn said. “Rest well. There’s nothing to worry over while you’re here. You’ll be well protected.”

  “Thank you,” Cora said again, then left the room on Mack Wallace’s arm. Neither of them spoke until they reached the top of the stairs.

  “The bags your sister sent over have already been taken up,” Mr. Wallace said, “and Elsie has unpacked them. She’ll take care of anything you need, so just ask.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for everything else, Mr. Wallace.”

  “Please call me Mack. And I’ll call you Cora if I may.”

  “I’d like that,” Cora said. “Thank you for everything, Mack. I’m not sure what I would have done had you not been here.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about that. I’m here.”

  Cora lifted her gaze. He had a strong face with solid features. There was a look of honesty about him, an indomitable determination to discover the truth.

  For several long moments, they stood near each other. Cora couldn’t seem to move. Mack didn’t seem willing to. Then his gaze lowered to her mouth, and she knew what he wanted.

  She was shocked to realize that she wanted it, too.

  How could she feel such a connection to him after just one day? How could she feel such a closeness to him after meeting him only hours earlier? She attributed her yearn
ings to the excitement of the day, to the danger she was in, and the fact that Mack Wallace had become her knight in shining armor.

  He held her hand a moment longer, then lifted his gaze as if he was reconsidering the appropriateness of kissing her.

  “There is a large library downstairs that you are welcome to use whenever you’d like. And you may visit the gardens in the back anytime you want. They are cordoned off from the outside world and will be well guarded. Feel free to go there to draw, or read, or just sit and enjoy the flowers.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Before he released her, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Sleep well, Cora. Elsie will be close by in case you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I won’t.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted to form the same facially altering smile she’d seen earlier. Two creases deepened on either side of his mouth. His features softened, and Cora was again struck by a strange sensation that swirled in the pit of her stomach.

  He executed a smooth nod of farewell, then turned.

  “Mack?”

  He turned.

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  He smiled again. “You’re welcome.”

  And he left her.

  Cora knew she must have fallen asleep but wasn’t sure for how long. The darkness outside was still deep, with no hint of encroaching sunlight. She lay in bed for several minutes listening for the strike of a clock from below. Finally, it heralded the hour. It was three of the clock.

  Although she knew she’d no doubt slept all she was going to for the night, she forced herself to remain abed in case she fell asleep again. But she could only remain beneath the covers a few more minutes before she felt the need to escape the confines of the bed. The confines of the room. She threw back the covers and rose to her feet.

  She wasn’t sure what she intended to do. Perhaps go to the library in search of a book. Perhaps step out onto the terrace and sit under the stars. Perhaps sit in the garden and breathe in the fragrant smells of the flowers. She wasn’t sure. She simply knew she couldn’t sit still. She needed to move.

  Cora slipped on the robe and slippers her sister sent, then left the room and walked down the stairs. She knew the library was to her left, but the thought of reading a book held no appeal. She needed freedom. She needed the out-of-doors.

  From earlier, she knew there was a way to the terrace from Mack’s study, so she headed in that direction.

  The room was dark, with only the soft rays of the moon shining through the large French doors. Cora made her way across the room and stepped out onto the terrace. The sense of freedom she felt excited her.

  She closed the doors behind her and took another step into the nighttime air.

  “You couldn’t sleep?” a voice said from her right.

  “Oh,” she gasped, clasping her hand to her breast.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Mack Walker stepped out of the shadows so that she could see him clearly.

  “I just didn’t expect anyone to be here. Couldn’t you sleep, either?”

  “I sent Quinn home to get some sleep. Jack is standing watch at the front of the house. I’m watching the back.”

  “Do you expect there to be trouble?”

  “I’d be a fool not to. We’re dealing with a man who has already committed murder.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so blunt.”

  Cora lifted her gaze to look at him. “No, I appreciate your honesty. I don’t want to be shielded like some child. I want to know what we’re up against and what you expect to happen.”

  “I thought you would. You don’t seem like a shrinking violet.”

  “I’m not.”

  Mack offered his arm. “Would you care to walk?”

  Cora took his arm, and they strolled down a cobbled path. For several moments neither of them spoke. Cora broke the silence first. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

  “I intend to visit Sir George Grey in the morning. Since our victim was in his employ, I’m sure the reason for his murder is connected to some piece of legislation, or some controversial item. Then I’ll check with Briggs and Roarke.”

  Cora turned to look at Mack. These were names with which she wasn’t familiar.

  “You haven’t met them yet,” Mack said. “They were both investigators with me, and I asked them to guard the Koh-i-Noor.”

  “You trust them, then?”

  “With my life.”

  There was a wrought-iron bench a few feet ahead of them, and Cora pointed to it. “Could we sit?”

  “Of course.”

  Cora sat first, and Mack sat beside her. Being with him was very comfortable. Sitting so close to him gave her a sense of security, safety.

  “Tell me about your friends,” she said. “Especially about how you came to know each other.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” he said, then he stopped and smiled. “No, that’s not true. There’s a lot to tell.”

  “I thought there might be.”

  Mack sat back in the bench. “All of us worked for the Metropolitan Police at one time or another. Some for longer periods of time, some for shorter.”

  “Were you one of those with them the longest?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a guess.”

  “Yes, I was with them the longest. I grew up fascinated by the tales of the men referred to as Bow Street Runners. I was only sixteen when they disbanded in ’39, and their dissolution broke my boyish heart. When I was old enough, I joined the Metropolitan Police Force and served as an investigator with Scotland Yard.”

  “Are you still connected with Scotland Yard?”

  He shook his head. “I work on my own now. The same as Quinn and Hugh and the rest.”

  “And you were hired to protect the diamond.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t expect things to turn out as they did,” Cora said, watching a frown deepen across Mack’s forehead.

  “No. But none of us can ever anticipate what obstacles will be thrown in our path.”

  Mack’s statement was so true.

  “What about you, Cora? What do you do in London to occupy your time?”

  Cora looked out at the variety of flowers before her. It was fall. Many of the blooms had lost the vibrant colors of spring and summer and were now foretellers of the winter to come. She rose, as if she needed at least a foot or two of separation between them. “I keep busy. I have several interests. After my disastrous encounter with love, I could have remained in the country, but I’m not such a martyr as to deprive myself of a life. I enjoy the theatre, opera, and concerts too much to deny myself the things London can provide.”

  Cora turned. “What about you? Do you enjoy the opera?”

  He leaned back against the wrought-iron bench and smiled. In the moonlight, his gleaming smile was brilliant. A churning of emotion shifted in her chest and slowly settled low in her stomach.

  “I will share my secret, but only if you swear never to tell anyone.”

  “By anyone, do you mean the other investigators?”

  “Especially the other investigators. They would never let me live it down.”

  Cora nodded. “I promise.”

  “I love the theater. Especially the opera.”

  Cora met his smile with one of her own. “I thought you might.”

  “Did you? Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just did.”

  Cora turned back to look out over the moonlit garden. Neither of them spoke for several moments. His soft voice was the first to break the silence.

  “Are you happy here?”

  Cora wasn’t sure when he’d stepped up behind her. She hadn’t heard him or realized he’d moved. When she turned, he was there.

  “Yes, I believe I am. I am very content.”

  “Content is not the same as happy. In fact, it is far from i
t. And you are much too special to settle for anything less.”

  With the moon shimmering above them, Cora knew that Mack was going to kiss her. A small voice told her they weren’t acquainted enough for her to allow him such liberties, but that wasn’t true. Time was irrelevant. She felt as if she’d known him forever. She felt as if the bonds that connected them were steeped in something that was more lasting than mere minutes, hours, or days.

  He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  Their meeting was exactly as she’d imagined it would be. The emotions that erupted inside her were exactly as she’d expected them to be. The connection that bound them together was as compelling as she’d anticipated it would be.

  He held her and kissed her, then lifted his mouth from her and brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “You are very special, Cora.”

  He placed his finger beneath her chin and lifted, then brought his mouth down over hers and kissed her again.

  His lips were firm and warm atop hers. His kiss a tender meeting that connected them with unbreakable bonds. Then he deepened his kiss and encouraged her to give him more of herself.

  Cora met his demands with the eagerness of a starving man offered his first meal. Of a man dying of thirst being offered a drink of water. She met his pleas for more with challenges of her own.

  Mack Wallace kissed her with the same fervency with which he faced every task in his daily life. He took command of the situation the same as he did every responsibility he was given, the same as he took control of every involvement. But she wasn’t like any woman with whom he’d ever been involved. She was ruined. It was important that he understood that from the beginning.

  She placed a palm on either side of his face and pulled away from him. She separated her lips from his, then stopped him from leaning in to kiss her again when he tried.

  “This isn’t wise.”

  “But it’s inevitable.”

  Cora shook her head. “It can’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know my past. Know that I am ruined.”

  “Only in your eyes.” And he lowered his head and kissed her again.

  Their kisses were consumed with passion. Their breathing became as one. Their bodies burned as if on fire.