Love Unbidden: Tales of the Bedford Street Brigade

by Landon, Laura

“You look tired,” she said when she could speak.

  “I’m fine.” He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Don’t ever frighten me like that again, Betsy. I almost didn’t survive this.”

  His voice was thick with emotion. There was a dampness in his eyes that tugged at her heart.

  He cared for her. No—he loved her. He’d told her so. Then he said the words again.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter if you love me in return. I have enough love for the both of us.”

  She couldn’t answer him. She wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. Probably more than he loved her. But she couldn’t. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to. How could she be happy with Jack when she didn’t know where Phoebe was, or how she was surviving? How could she make a new life for herself when she didn’t know if Phoebe even had a life?

  “I—”

  “You don’t have to answer me, Betsy. I don’t expect an answer.”

  “It’s not that, Jack. It’s just—”

  He pressed his finger against her lips. “Shh. Don’t speak. Just rest. The other Brigadesmen will be here before long to check on you, and you need to be well rested when they come.”

  Jack pulled the covers up and made sure she was comfortable, then turned. “Mrs. Dumpert from next door said to come for her when you woke. She’ll help you with things you don’t want a man helping with. And I need to send a message to your brother. He’s been worried over you. I’ll be back soon with something to eat.”

  He smiled a shy smile, then turned.

  She couldn’t let him leave with so many things left unsaid between them. “Jack?”

  He turned.

  “I love you, too. I want you to know that I do. It’s just that…”

  “I know, Betsy. After what happened I don’t blame you.”

  And he turned and left her.

  . . .

  It had been three weeks since Betsy had been shot, and each day she healed more. Word on the street was that with Cutter gone and so many of his men either dead or in prison, his organization had fallen apart.

  The police knew that another gang would soon rise to take his place, but it would take time for that new gang to gain the supremacy Cutter had. Maybe with the Bedford Street Brigade’s help they could prevent a new gang from getting as powerful as Cutter’s had been.

  But that wouldn’t be Jack’s concern. From today on, nothing involving the Bedford Street investigators would be his concern.

  He’d resigned a few hours earlier. He’d visited Mack just that afternoon to tell him his decision. Luckily, all the Brigadesmen had been there except Hugh, so he’d been saved from having to repeat his decision six times. He’d find Hugh later, and tell him. But Hugh, more than any of them, would understand his decision. He’d gone through the same tragedy Jack had gone through with Betsy. An assassin’s bullet had killed his young wife several years ago. Hugh had vowed never to wed again. Hugh would understand when he heard Jack couldn’t risk Betsy’s life.

  That isn’t to say the choice to leave the Bedford Street investigators had been an easy one. It hadn’t. It had been more difficult than any decision he’d ever made. But he couldn’t allow himself to think of how much he’d miss the work. Or how much he’d miss the satisfaction of knowing they’d taken another criminal off the streets. Or how much he’d miss their friendship. They were his best friends. There was a bond between them that was hard to explain. But this choice hadn’t been about any of that. This choice had been about having a life with Betsy.

  He’d seen her hesitate when he told her he loved her. Something made her back away when she thought he might declare his intentions. And he knew that something was the danger involved in his work. She hadn’t put it in so many words, but he knew Betsy would never agree to marry him as long as he took the risks he did every day. She would never marry him if his work put her in danger.

  And, he couldn’t imagine living a lifetime without Betsy. So, he’d resigned from the Bedford Brigade. It was the only choice open to him.

  Jack jumped from the carriage and entered Betsy’s house. He closed the door behind him and scanned the foyer.

  Mrs. Dumpert was carrying some laundry up the stairs. When she saw him, she stopped.

  “If you’re looking for Miss Thomas, you’ll find her out back.”

  Jack smiled. “The lady must be feeling much better today.” He headed for the back.

  “Oh, that she is,” Mrs. Dumpert answered. “She’s got a right smile on her face.”

  Jack walked through the parlor, then through a pair of multi-paned doors that led out into a small garden. He saw her there, sitting beneath a large shade tree, with an open book in her hands.

  She didn’t see him at first and he took the opportunity to study her for a few unguarded moments.

  The sight of her sitting there stole his breath. She was everything he’d always dreamed of in a woman. She was generous and caring, and one of the bravest people he’d ever known. Hadn’t she traveled to London’s East End regularly in search of her missing sister? Hadn’t she gone to him in the alley, a perfect stranger, and taken him to her home to care for him? He owed her his life.

  He took a step toward her and she lifted her gaze.

  “You’re home,” she said, closing her book and placing it in her lap. “You must have had more than one errand to run.”

  Jack sat on the bench beside her. “Yes I did. Several, in fact.”

  “Did they go well?”

  He placed his arm around her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “As well as could be expected.”

  “I’ve been thinking, Jack.”

  “Oh, this sounds serious.”

  “Not serious exactly, but important.”

  She lowered her gaze to her lap and Jack noticed her fingers clutched her book with a ferocity that turned her knuckles white. A feeling of unease washed over him. “Then perhaps we should discuss this important matter.”

  “It’s us,” she said, lifting her gaze. “I think we need to discuss…us.”

  Jack was glad she wanted to discuss their future. He was sure she still couldn’t consider a future with him because of the dangers of his job. But everything was different now. He would get a job where there weren’t any risks. Perhaps he’d find a security job. Or be a bank guard. Or perhaps he could work with Nick in the tobacco shop. Nick had remarked just last night that he was thinking of taking on another clerk. Jack had never worked as a clerk before, but he was sure he could handle the work.

  “Yes, we need to talk about us. About our future.”

  Her features paled, and he hoped that was a sign of shyness. Something, however, told him it might be something more.

  “You know I love you, don’t you, Betsy?”

  She nodded. “And I love you, Jack. But—”

  “Excuse me, Miss Thomas,” Mrs. Dumpert said from the house. “But you’ve a visitor.”

  Mrs. Dumpert opened the door and Hugh came toward them.

  “Don’t you look radiant, Betsy,” Hugh said with a broad smile on his face. “You get prettier every day.”

  “I think you’ve been taking flattery lessons from Jack,” she said, returning his teasing remark. “Would you like to go back into the house? There’s some dessert left from lunch.”

  “No, I can’t stay. I came to talk to this fool,” he said, casting a glance in Jack’s direction. “I want to try to change his mind. And yours, too.”

  “Mine? About what?”

  Jack tried to shake his head in warning for Hugh not to say more, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was concentrating on Betsy.

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “What this fool has done?”

  “No,” she answered. “What has he done?”

  “He’s left the Brigade. He told Mack and the others he couldn’t work with us any longer.”

  B
etsy turned. Her questioning gaze focused on him. Then, her gaze turned angry. “Why, Jack? Why would you leave the Brigade? You love what you do. You told me that when we first—”

  She stopped short. “Hugh, would you please excuse us. Jack and I have something important to discuss.”

  Hugh nodded. “Of course, Betsy. I’ll stop by later.”

  “Yes, please do. I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

  “You aren’t. No. Not at all.”

  Hugh turned and walked to the house. Before he was even out of earshot, Betsy turned her wrath on him.

  “Why did you leave the Brigade?” she demanded.

  “You know why. Betsy, I love you. I want to marry you.”

  “And you think being a part of the Bedford Street investigators is why I won’t marry you?”

  The tone of her voice held a certain amount of anger. The furious glare in her gaze held an equal amount of outrage.

  Jack swallowed hard. He’d been sure the reason she wouldn’t marry him was because of his job. That had to be the reason. She loved him. She told him she did.

  A painful lump formed in the pit of his stomach. Unless she didn’t love him enough to spend the rest of her life with him. “If it isn’t the risks involved in my job, why won’t you marry me? Don’t you love me?”

  As he watched, Betsy’s eyes filled with tears. She struggled to her feet and stepped away from him.

  Jack knew what it was like for his heart to break. He stepped up behind her, and when he was close enough, he placed his arms around her, taking care not to press too tightly against her wound.

  “It’s all right, Betsy. I shouldn’t have assumed you felt the same for me as I do for you. I shouldn’t have supposed you loved me with the same desperation that I love you.”

  “Oh, Jack,” she cried, then turned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “It’s not that. It’s not that I don’t love you. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.”

  “Then what is it, Betsy?”

  Her tears came in earnest now. They streamed down her cheeks and dampened the front of his jacket. “What is it, Betsy?” he repeated.

  “It’s Phoebe. I can’t give up my search for her. How can I be happy with you when I know she’s probably suffering without food? Without shelter? Having to do despicable things to survive?”

  “Oh…my God, I…Betsy. How could I have been so thoughtless?”

  “It’s not your fault, Jack. It’s mine. I should have told you after you kissed me that first time. But I was already in love with you. I think I fell in love with you before you gained consciousness. I think I fell in love with you the first time you clasped my hand and wouldn’t let go. But I was too selfish to tell you that I couldn’t return your love until I knew what had happened to Phoebe. It’s my fault she ran off. I shouldn’t have left her alone. I was the one who was supposed to take care of her. And I didn’t.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll help you find your sister. All of us will. We won’t rest until we know what happened to her.”

  Betsy lifted her chin and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I love you Jack. I always will. But—”

  “Shh, sweetheart. Everything will be all right. I promise you it will. And this is a promise to keep.”

  EPILOGUE

  Jack took Betsy from their home on King Street, just off Drury Lane, to St. Paul’s Church Yard on Ludgate Street. Her brother Nick was with them.

  It had taken him longer to keep his promise to find Phoebe than he’d wanted it to, but he’d found her now and could finally put Betsy’s mind to rest.

  “You’re sure you found her?” Betsy asked, as she looked out the carriage window.

  They were in familiar surroundings, not far from where Nick, Betsy, and Phoebe had grown up. Not far from where Betsy had lost Phoebe that dreadful night.

  “I’m sure.”

  Jack knew this would be hard for his wife and he’d tried to prepare her as best he could, but he was glad this would finally be put behind them.

  He’d intended to be patient, and wait until he’d found Phoebe before he asked her to marry him again, but she’d surprised him by insisting they marry. She trusted his promise to find Phoebe, and knew he wouldn’t break his word.

  He was also certain she knew what the outcome of this day would be. And he vowed to remain at her side to make sure she got through this all right.

  “We’re here,” he said when they reached the churchyard.

  He stopped the carriage and helped her dismount. Nick followed.

  He and Betsy had been married three months now, and this would be the first event in their marriage that wasn’t happy. And yet, it was probably the most memorable event to date.

  “Is that where she’s at?” Nick asked, pointing to the small, quiet churchyard.

  “Yes. She’s over here.”

  Nick walked ahead of them, and Jack placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders and held her close as they walked. He wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. He wanted her to know he was there with her.

  Jack led Betsy to the stone marker where her sister was buried. Before they reached it, a rotund little man in drab clothing walked toward them. He stopped short when he saw Betsy.

  “Oh, my gracious,” he whispered. “Seeing you is like having the young lass back to life. You look exactly like her.”

  Betsy stared at the simple marker.

  Phoebe Carruthers, beloved wife of Robbie Carruthers

  “We were twins,” she said through her tears. “I was older than Phoebe by only minutes.”

  Betsy leaned closer to Jack and he nestled her to him. Her body shook with emotion.

  “What happened to her?” Nick asked. His voice was thick with loss.

  “I don’t know a lot of her story,” the caretaker said. “She didn’t offer much information while she was with us. She was already ill when she arrived on our doorstep. My wife and I took her in and tried to nurse her back to health. But I don’t think she had the will to get better. She said she’d lost everyone, her Robbie and her baby.”

  “A baby?”

  “Yes. The fever. She was only with us a few weeks and she died, too.”

  The caretaker took a step to the right and pointed to the two markers beside hers. One had the words:

  Robbie Carruthers, beloved husband of Phoebe Carruthers.

  The other had the words:

  Betsy Nichole Carruthers, infant daughter of Robbie and Phoebe.

  “I think she came here to be near them,” the caretaker said.

  Tears flowed down both Betsy’s cheeks, and her brother’s. They shared a look, then Betsy rushed into her brother’s arms. They clung together for several long emotional minutes.

  “I’m sorry,” the caretaker said. “I’d have contacted you if I’d have known who to contact. But the lass never gave us a name. Only the one she asked us to put on the marker.”

  “It’s all right,” Nick said through his tears. “We know now. Thank you for everything you did for our sister.”

  The caretaker nodded then left them.

  “Our search is over, Betsy,” Nick said. “We can rest now.”

  “Yes,” Betsy agreed through the tears that still streamed down her cheeks. “I always knew this was probably what we’d find, but that doesn’t make it easy.”

  Jack reached for Betsy when she stepped out of her brother’s arms and pulled her close. “What happened to your sister wasn’t your fault, Betsy. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. She found someone she loved so much she wanted to make her life with him. Just like you and I have made a life together. Be happy that they found a love that powerful for as long as they did.

  Betsy looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and smiled. “I love you, Jack. And I will forever. For our forever, however long that may be.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Hugh Baxter pulled the collar of his heavy coat up around his neck and continued north from London. The weather turned cold
er each day, the biting rain contained more of a sting when it hit his face. He thought of the woman he’d been hired to find and worried that by the time he reached her she would be dead from the elements.

  She’d been on the road for more than a month. Why the hell her cousin hadn’t contacted Mack Wallace, head of the Bedford Street investigators, sooner was a mystery to him—a mystery that left several questions unanswered. The most obvious being why she’d run away the week before her wedding.

  He’d almost turned down the assignment when Mack had approached him. But something made him accept the challenge. The fact that the Metropolitan Police had failed to find her only sweetened the challenge. None of the six Bedford Street investigators ever turned down the opportunity to show up the Metropolitan Police.

  Hugh knew where she was headed. The murky trail he’d followed for the last week made that clear. She was on her way to Scotland. Why she’d decided to travel to Scotland now was a question he intended to ask her when he found her. It was winter, for heaven’s sake. No seasoned traveler ventured to Scotland this time of year, let alone a young female on her own.

  Another stabbing of anxiety clenched at Hugh’s insides. He couldn’t believe she’d survived this long. For the past month, she’d traveled by stagecoach, by mail coach, and no doubt caught a ride from any local farmer who offered her one. It had even been reported she’d been seen on foot. He’d followed her trail north to Bedford, then Leicester, and as far as Derby. That’s when he’d lost her.

  He rubbed his gloved hands together in an attempt to warm them, then buried his face deeper in his upturned collar. Bloody hell but it was cold. He prayed she wasn’t on foot today. The closer he got to Sheffield, the more he thought he might see snow. It was January, after all.

  The woman he was following was Lady Lorna Willis, daughter of the late Earl of Chillbrooke. The fact that Chillbrooke and Hugh’s father had been friends was the determining factor in his decision to find her.

  He hadn’t thought he would be forced to leave London, however. Or that his search would drag him all the way across England. But here he was, at the Ale and Inn, a stone’s throw from Sheffield in northern England.