Secrets in Scarlet

by Erica Monroe

  So, he stood. He ignored his mother’s pinched lips as he told her he was leaving. He had one last chance with Poppy, and he was going to take it.

  Thaddeus had never been a man to fear enclosed spaces, but the rookeries had redefined his opinion of how many people could be safely packed within a yard. He walked hunched down, trying not to catch his head on the laundry that hung from the first-floor clotheslines.

  Whereas the Vautilles had lived in a subdivided house bordering a courtyard, the O’Reillys had settled down in an alleyway with two bricked tenement houses that had never undergone the Georgian desire to remake everything with stucco. The houses were long and lean, given triangular roofs with chimneys each time a new section was built onto the original base.

  He raised his fist to knock upon the wooden door, trepidation dripping through his bones.

  The door swung open. For a moment he stood slack-jawed, his hand still fisted.

  “Sergeant Knight.” Kate O’Reilly sounded far more pleased to see him than he’d expected.

  Evidently, Poppy had yet to share all the details of their last meeting with her sister-in-law.

  “Mrs. O’Reilly.” He dropped his hand, wiped his clammy skin upon the leg of his tan breeches.

  Damn it all, he missed his blues.

  “Do come in,” Kate said, standing back so he could enter.

  Gulping down uneasiness, Thaddeus followed her inside. Their space was smaller than Poppy’s cottage, and not as neat. Stacks and stacks of broadsheets lined the desk by the window, all advertising various news relative to the London and St. Katharine’s docks. Daniel had taken a job with a shipping company.

  A cursory glance around the room showed no indication that Kate had returned to her fencing trade, but that meant little: a proper fence would hide the goods in a hole in the wall, underneath a bed, or in a cabinet used for foodstuffs.

  Not that it mattered anymore, for even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t arrest her.

  “Daniel,” Kate called, as she dragged out a chair from the table and nodded for him to take a seat across from her. “Sergeant Knight is here. Do come out, would you?”

  Poppy’s brother emerged from the back room, quickly tying up his neckcloth. His eyes settled upon Thaddeus, clear and crisply green, so mimicking of Poppy’s that Thaddeus felt instantly scrutinized and discovered lacking. But he’d come here to find Poppy, and he wouldn’t be deterred.

  Thaddeus leaned forward. “Do you know where Poppy is? Please, I need to see her.” Every ounce of urgency he could muster from his fatigued soul, he put into this request. “All I know is she went to Atlas Greer’s house, wherever that is.”

  “Yet you’re here.” Kate’s quieter voice held as much power as her husband’s because Thaddeus knew that the four flintlocks hooked onto the wall were hers.

  “If Poppy told you not to try to find her—”

  Kate cut off Daniel. “Need I remind you how many times I told you to stay away?”

  Daniel’s body relaxed visibly, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “It is not the same thing.”

  “I believe it may be precisely the same thing.” Kate released Daniel’s hand, gesturing to the other unoccupied chair at the table. “Sit, Daniel, lest you wear a hole in our floor by your heavy stance.”

  Daniel took a seat. For the second time since he’d entered their home, Thaddeus swallowed down rising dread.

  “You love Poppy, don’t you?” Kate smiled at Thaddeus. “I watched your face when you came into the Boars. You were so protective of her.”

  Kate’s eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite explain. He suspected now that she knew everything about his affair with Poppy, but somehow, she still wanted them to have happiness.

  The Kate who sat before him was such a far cry from the desperate woman who had flagged him down at the Smithfield cattle market and insisted that he save her kidnapped love. If Kate and Daniel could conquer the odds, surely, surely there must be hope for Thaddeus and Poppy.

  “I love her with every fiber of my being.” Thaddeus grew more certain of this with each moment away from her. “And I’ll be good by her, O’Reilly, I swear I will.”

  “Why did Poppy leave you?” Daniel asked.

  “I—” Thaddeus began, his nose scrunching up as he struggled for proper words. “I did something wretched. I looked into her past.”

  A glance passed between Kate and Daniel, of swiftly biting dismay and then dawning realization. Then, Daniel nodded, and Kate patted his hand.

  Daniel cleared his throat, turning his chair to face Thaddeus. “Then you know why I’m protective of my sister. Why I’d do anything for her.”

  “I don’t want to hurt her, Mr. O’Reilly,” Thaddeus assured him. “My expectations at first were simply to solve the Larker case. This...this tendre for her, I wasn’t prepared for.”

  “One is never quite prepared for love,” Kate murmured. Another secret look passed between her and Daniel, laden with the emotions that need not be said between husband and wife.

  “I want to make sure Poppy is safe,” Thaddeus said. “I got her into this mess. I thought if I searched harder, if I simply knew the right facts, I could bring these blackguards before the court. That the girl who died in my arms wouldn’t have died then in vain.”

  “It is a noble goal,” Kate noted with a hint of surprise, as if she’d never expected a policeman could hold lofty ambitions.

  Daniel was not so easily convinced of his virtues. “I’m bloody grateful to you for saving me, and I always will be.” He ran a hand through his cropped red hair, his brows furrowing. “But Knight, you involved my sister in a murder. Now she’s in hiding. I wanted more for her than that, you understand? She deserved more.”

  “With love comes danger,” Kate murmured, her brown eyes clouded, as though remembering something in her own past.

  “I’m going to keep Poppy safe,” Thaddeus vowed. “If she’ll come with me, I want to take her to Scotland. We’ll get married and find somewhere safe to settle down. Away from all this violence.”

  Daniel’s posture loosened. “I believe you’re a good man, Knight, and I’ve seen the way she looked at you the other night in the Boars. You make her happy. But if you hurt her…”

  “I will do everything in my power to never hurt her again,” Thaddeus told him earnestly.

  Daniel reached for Kate’s hand, a half-formed smile on his lips. “Kate gave me a second chance, and Poppy forgave me for my transgressions. I suppose I ought to give you a chance to plead your case to Poppy.”

  Kate grinned, squeezing Daniel’s hand. “I was going to tell him where Atlas is regardless, but I’m bloody glad you came to the conclusion on your own. You can be a stubborn goat, you know.”

  “Not as stubborn as you,” Daniel winked.

  “No one is as stubborn as me.” Kate agreed, turning her attention to Thaddeus. “You will see a two-story building that sits a bit back from the street. It’ll appear larger from the outside as you enter. Most likely, the door shall be locked, but the lock is quite easy to pick.”

  “When you enter, you’ll see a large room with ramshackle furniture,” Daniel added. “Ignore all of that, for Atlas won’t be there. Go to the wall and press the fourth brick on the seventh row from the bottom. A staircase will appear in the darkness, and you will go up the stairs and knock on the door. Whether or not Poppy chooses to receive you is up to her.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” he said, as he shook Daniel’s hand and sketched a bow to Kate.

  As he left their flat, he thought of the fairy tales where the hero must slay a dragon and cut through an uncharted forest to free the princess. But he’d cross any obstacle to get to Poppy and prove to her that he meant every damn word of what he’d said to her. Society might be determined to cast her as fallen, but she was far from ruined in his eyes.

  She was the woman he’d win back if it took his last breath.

  22

  Curled up on the settee
next to Moira, a book spread out across her crossed knees, Poppy heard the shouts. Her name repeated again and again by a voice so achingly familiar. Her hands curled tighter around the book. Her heart slammed against her chest, until the sound of it beating echoed in her ears, interlaced with Thaddeus’s crisp London accent.

  The click-clack of Edna’s knitting needles stopped. She glanced at Poppy, a smug smile sliding across her weathered face. Poppy placed the book down on the settee. Standing slowly, not trusting her knees to hold her up, Poppy stared at the door in wide-eyed surprise. She was imaging this—she had to be.

  Moira grabbed the book and stuffed the corners of the hard cover into her mouth. Snatching the book away, Poppy deposited it on the tall table where Moira couldn’t reach.

  “Story time will have to continue later,” she told Moira, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. Dazed. Confused.

  It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be.

  For if it was truly Thaddeus pounding at the door to Atlas’s loft, that would mean he’d come for her. He’d somehow convinced Daniel and Kate to tell him the exact stone to push to unveil the hidden staircase that led upstairs, for even Jane didn’t know the secret to entering Atlas’s lair.

  “I’ll deal with this,” Atlas declared, coming from the back room and pushing past Poppy. Grasped in his hand was a silver dagger, too pointed for Poppy’s liking.

  “No, Atlas,” Poppy protested. She rushed forward, the stiffness from sitting too long fleeing from her joints at this call to action. Reaching the door before Atlas, she stood on her tiptoes and peered through the hole drilled into the door.

  Her heart throbbed frantically, the stab-stab-stab of her breath coming in anxious pants.

  Another knock reverberated through the door. She jostled with Atlas, but he caught the knob before she could, his reflexes sharper than hers.

  Thaddeus was on the top landing, his fist raised to pound on the door once more. His eyes widened as soon as he saw the knife in Atlas’s hand, and he staggered backwards.

  Atlas lowered the knife. “Sergeant Knight.”

  Thaddeus hesitated, looking from Atlas to Poppy. She elbowed Atlas out of the way, grabbing Thaddeus’s hand and tugging him into the room. Atlas shut the door behind them.

  The click echoed in her ears, the end of her secrets.

  She dropped Thaddeus’s hand, taking a step back. Surrounded by the evidence of a thousand unsolved cases, any other police officer would have surely taken this opportunity to catch the elusive Gentleman Thief.

  Yet Thaddeus didn’t. He was rooted to that one spot, his booted feet upon a doeskin rug. Time slowed. The silence didn’t constrict around them; rather, it flowed and ebbed like the most gloriously woven silk.

  Thaddeus stared openly, but not at the assorted trinkets. He looked only at her. Under the weight of his stare, everything faded away.

  When she looked into his eyes, she saw love. Maybe she’d spent her life trying to find him. Simply by being himself, he’d pierced her heart. Her soul craved him, marking him as essential to survival as breathing or drinking water. As if he’d been made for her, he filled the empty, lonely parts of herself she’d long ago given up on healing.

  In this stripping of every wall she’d built up around her, for the first time in two years, she finally felt like herself again.

  She was free.

  “You came.” So many emotions were wrapped up in those two words. Surprise warred with joy and a deep-set shock, until she lived and breathed this truth: he had returned.

  “How could I stay away from you?” he asked, as if the very idea was preposterous.

  Poppy closed the distance between them. His breath hitched as she approached. He waited for her to touch him first.

  She wrapped one hand around his. Then with her other hand, she glided her thumb across his bottom lip, wanting to remember the way he felt. Every caress, every kiss, had been stamped into her memory as her constant companion in this last week they’d spent apart.

  His hand tightened against hers. She dropped her thumb and leaned her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

  “Ahem,” Atlas coughed, shattering the moment between them. “Jolly good to see you happy, Pop, but I’d rather like an explanation as to why the good sergeant is in my living room.”

  Poppy sprung back from Thaddeus, a blush inflaming her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Atlas. Kate and Daniel must have—”

  Atlas groaned. “I figured. I’ll have to speak to your brother about why we don’t let policemen into my bloody lair.”

  “Actually, it’s Knight now. No Sergeant,” Thaddeus chimed in, coming to stand behind Poppy.

  “What do you mean?” Poppy asked, turning back to Thaddeus.

  Thaddeus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Ah, you see, I’ve been, ah, sort of dismissed.”

  Atlas’s eyes narrowed. “How does one get ‘sort of’ dismissed?”

  “Oh, no, Thaddeus,” she murmured. “That job was everything to you.”

  As if her words strengthened him, Thaddeus stood up straighter, meeting Atlas’s glance. He stood a full head taller than Atlas. Even without his blues, he was an impressive man. A man of honor.

  A small smile toyed at his lips, and he took her hand in his, his skin smooth unlike her roughened hands. He’d led a more privileged existence, but now she knew that didn’t mean he’d led an easier life.

  “The Met was everything to me,” he corrected. “Then I met you.”

  She squeezed his hand, in part to remind herself that was he was there, and in part to show support. “What happened?”

  “I may have told Whiting that I knew he was covering up the Larkers’ counterfeiting.” Thaddeus shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Basically, he wanted me to tell him you’d taken those papers from Larker’s office, Poppy. There’s no way under the sun I was going to do that.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For refusing to identify me, but most importantly for coming back.”

  “I will always come back for you,” he said.

  “So,” Atlas ground out through clenched teeth. “Not a police officer any longer?”

  “I fear not,” Thaddeus replied. “If you’re worried about me arresting you, or reporting you, you needn’t be. My word holds the equivalence of the refuse lining the alleyway outside this place. Even if I wanted to turn you in, Greer, no one would take me seriously.”

  Edna came forward with Moira in her arms. “Then we should give them some privacy.” Her tone left no room for disagreement.

  Atlas opened and shut his mouth, frowning. “Fine. But we’ll be downstairs, Poppy.”

  “Take as much time as you need.” Edna laid a hand on Poppy’s arm, her smile sunny. “And Poppy? I told you so.”

  They sat on the settee in the back of Atlas’s parlor. Here, her knee touching Thaddeus’s and her palm enveloped by his larger hand was where she belonged.

  Thaddeus had been content to follow Poppy’s direction toward the settee, picking his way between Atlas’s various collections with the surefootedness of a mountain goat. He took it all in stride, never questioning the suit of armor, the table littered with maps and cartography equipment, the glass-lidded box of jewels. His arched brow was the only indication he found any of this collection slightly strange.

  After Thaddeus explained what had happened with Whiting, they’d fallen into silence. Poppy didn’t know how many minutes passed by this way. She hated that he’d lost his job. Yet he didn’t seem to want to talk more about it. She was content to be alone with him, lost in thought.

  Side by side, the heat of Thaddeus’s body flooding through her own, she was stronger. Her feet dangled off the cushions. She was so small compared to him; his long legs planted firmly on the ground. She wanted to be with him always, in these quiet moments that did not tinge of danger and intrigue but were simply the product of two people being in love.

  But time went on in its capricious way. She was powerless to s
top it. Forever, there’d be monsters that waited for her not in the darkest alleys, but in the wild crush of happiness when she let down her guard. Life had a way of gutting her when she least expected it, and she could not help but wonder if this was to be one of those moments.

  Worry clawed through bliss. She peeked over at him. His eyes were closed. He sucked in long breath after long breath and his hand didn’t shake against hers.

  She knew this was how he appeared when he was puzzling through a case. He had heard enough of her past to assemble a neat story. All he lacked were the details. She gulped down air. Laying her head down on his shoulder, she watched as he opened his eyes. She was tired of this secret controlling her. The lies owned her, until she was nothing more than fiction.

  But she could be strong. She was bigger than her past. Somehow, in these last two weeks with Thaddeus, she had created a new identity.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Thaddeus smiled at her. From his smile, she drew power and confidence. She could last through whatever the world threw at her.

  He ran a hand through his hair, leaving his dark locks ruffled in a way that made her core seize with longing. Their fight before had been ugly and brutal. She wanted to pretend it had never happened, but she couldn’t. He’d violated her trust, and she his.

  Poppy turned her body so that she faced him. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  His jaw clenched. A minor movement that she would have missed had she not been studying his reaction.

  “You did what you thought you must to protect your daughter,” Thaddeus said. “And I shouldn’t have looked into your past. It wasn’t right.”

  She bit at her bottom lip, debating with herself. “You’ve been trained to question what doesn’t fit. It’s how you solve cases. I don’t like what you did, Thaddeus, and I doubt I ever will. But if I want you to respect me for who I am, should I not do the same for you?”