by Abigail Agar
“I know it, John. But I was not born to this work as you were. I know that you are a man who always wanted to be a constable and then a detective. But I did not fight for this work. I did not ever plan to end up here,” Hamish said.
“Begging your pardon, but how did you end up here?” John asked.
“I had nowhere else to go. My mother and father passed away when I was just seventeen. Tuberculosis. I heard that the department was needing young men to take up arms in the streets, to become constables. It seemed like my only option,” he confessed.
“And you ended up rising in the ranks, becoming our greatest inspector,” John said, his voice making it sound like a noble undertaking, although Hamish believed that it was anything but.
“I dare not make such a claim,” Hamish said.
“Perhaps not, but I do, Hamish. And I know that your mother and father would be very proud of you if they were here to see you,” John said.
He still missed them sometimes. Although it had been a number of years, Hamish often thought about his mother and father. They had been such wonderful parents.
They had raised him well, with love and affection. He had never lacked for kindness at their hands. He had never lacked for the haggis, neeps, and tatties his Scottish mother insisted on making or the complaints of his very English father who hated anything that came from a sheep.
But all of that had come to an end. When the tuberculosis got them, Hamish had to simply accept that they were gone and they were not coming back.
“Well, it hardly matters now. My mother and father have been gone a good while and I am simply doing the best that I am able to get along without them,” Hamish said.
“And you are doing a mighty fine job of running these streets. Now, your men wish to celebrate the victory that took place here today. Will you deny them that?” John asked.
“I would never deny my men their victory, although I do not feel it as such in my bones,” he replied.
“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” John said, standing and looking happy enough.
Hamish sighed and tried to put on his best face as well. He was feeling down and nothing was going to change that, but at least he could rally his men and cheer them on for the efforts they put into the case.
They walked out from his office into the greater space that made up the entryway of the station. The men cheered for him, encouraging him as their leader, the Great Inspector of London.
“All right, men, you may be calm. I did very little,” he said.
“You did a great amount, Inspector Brock. What would we do without you as our leader?” Constable Clisby asked.
“We wouldn’t have found the culprits if you had not thought to check the man’s accounts,” Constable Murray said.
“Gentlemen, I could not have succeeded in my work had I not the likes of each and every one of you working, doing your part. It is to each of you that I owe the credit,” he said.
The men erupted with a cheer again, each one taking pride in his work, a pride that Hamish wanted to find again.
“A drink, Inspector?” Constable Clisby offered him.
“Thank you, not just now, Constable. I do still have work to be done,” Hamish said.
“Well, then, you know we will have it for you whenever you’re ready, Inspector,” he said.
Hamish allowed the celebration to ensue. He did his best to take part, to not allow himself to be overcome by what had happened, but to rejoice in the knowledge that they had caught those responsible.
As the evening progressed, John returned to his side.
“I know that you feel such pain, but you do not need to suffer,” he said.
“I never claimed to feel pain,” Hamish said.
“All right, then. Pain may not be the word for it. But you do have a burden, do you not?” John asked.
“Yes, perhaps that much is true,” he said.
“What you need is a wife, a family. That will bring you your happiness, your fulfilment. What we saw these past days, that is not the London that we know. Do not let it colour your love of this city. And do not think that just because you lost your parents some years ago, you shall never have a family again,” John said.
“A wife? Family? You mean children,” Hamish said.
“Yes, Hamish. A wife and children. Think of it! You would have the family that you crave. Not that they would replace your mother and father, but it would be something new,” John said.
“I fear that having a family would only concern me further. If such a thing as this can sweep the streets of London, is anywhere safe? Would I not only have to live with even greater concern for those that I love if I were to have a family?” Hamish asked.
“You cannot think of it like that, Hamish. You can only look to what is best for you and your future. Honestly, when I see the man that you are, I can only wonder at how fortunate a wife would be to have you for her husband, or children to have you for their father. You may not see it, but I do,” John said.
“You see it because it is what you want,” Hamish said.
“Want and have. My wife, our children, they are what spur me onward, what motivate me and bring me joy. You should have the fortune of knowing that love and affection,” John said, urging him.
But Hamish would not be pacified. Not when he had seen so much strife of late. Not when he had been witness to the difficulties of life.
Could he bear to have children and then leave them orphans as he had been left? Could he risk that they should be struck down as a family had just been? And when he looked at the very nature of London, he was patrolling some of the safest streets there were. If, even here, villainy could come calling, was anyone safe?
“You’re brooding again,” John said.
“You notice too much, Sergeant Miller,” he said, calling John by his title to point out his skill in the workforce. John was quite a skilled investigator and he had superb observational skills.
It was inconvenient in that moment.
Nevertheless, Hamish did make a decision. He would be determined. He would look on the positive end of things.
“All right, John. You do make a fair point that I must be glad we have managed to capture the men responsible for this terrible crime. I concede that I shall celebrate with you and the others, that I shall be glad for our progress in seeing justice done,” he said.
“Very well, Hamish. The men will be glad for it. I do believe that we need more cheer around here, in light of what has taken place. No one is happy that it occurred, but we do want to see the better of it,” John said.
“And we shall. These men will be an example and no one is going to have the audacity to commit such a crime on our streets again,” he said.
“Indeed,” John said. “And about the other matter?”
“Other matter?” Hamish asked.
“The other about which we were just speaking,” he said.
“Oh. You mean regarding the possibility of my marrying and having a family?” he asked.
“Yes, that,” John said.
“Well, for the moment, let us not dwell on it. I cannot think that it shall come to pass any time soon. Even if I did wish for it as you do, there is, at present, no young lady to whom I might wish to be joined in matrimony,” he said.
“None at all?” John asked, appearing surprised.
“I fear not. It has been a very long time since I met any young ladies and even longer since I have met one who captures my interest,” Hamish said.
“And if you did wish to find a wife, what sort of woman would she be?” John asked.
Hamish considered it. He had not thought about it in quite a long time, having devoted himself instead to his work.
“I suppose she would be quite intellectual. A deep thinker. A reader and concerned with the betterment of herself and others. Someone genuine and intentional about her time,” Hamish said.
“Those are all very good qualities,” John said.
“Yes, I th
ink as much. But this is London, after all. The vast majority of young women are frivolous, concerned only with balls and marrying men of renown and wealth and all that. I do not think I could tolerate such a woman,” Hamish said.
“They are not all like that. I would not be able to bear such a woman either. My Leah is certainly the only sort of woman I could ever love. She is so quiet and tender, devout to our children, encourages me all the time. The very essence of a perfect bride,” John said.
Hamish, as well, valued the sort of woman that Leah was. Although he hoped for a wife who had a few more interests and activity in her than John’s wife, he appreciated her calm and gentle nature.
But he had never really known a woman quite like that and he would not settle for anyone he did not respect in the most absolute of ways.
“It is a shame you cannot meet more women in this role you are in. Why don’t you attend some of the balls?” John asked.
“I have just told you why. The sort of ladies I might meet there are all interested in dancing and gowns and marrying nobility. I cannot abide such a thing,” he reiterated.
“I suppose that’s right enough. But I do hope, nonetheless, that you find a good woman,” John said.
“Perhaps, one day, I shall. Until then, this is my lot. Until then, I must focus my time and my energies only on finding the ruffians who wish to harm our city. And, when I find them, ensuring that they never harm another soul again,” Hamish said.
He meant it. He would not see another man killed or woman hurt. If a case was brought to him in which he might be able to stop it, if he was ever able to prevent even the smallest crime, he would do it.
And, if he did fall in love, it would be with a woman who stood by his side every step of the way.
Chapter 3
Georgiana opened her eyes, feeling a thick coating on her tongue. She put it down to just another remnant of the previous evening’s frivolity.
Groaning and trying to wake herself to the world, she thought about the ball and all that had taken place. She thought about her dance with the Baron of Ayre and also the fortuitous turn of events in which Lord Remy, Viscount of Brompton, had also asked her to dance.
An earl, he was not. But a viscount? At least it was one step higher. If she would not find a man who truly interested her, that was at least something.
But, like the Baron of Ayre, Lord Remy was perfectly uninteresting.
Georgiana sat up in the bed and glanced toward the windows. A thin sliver of light shone through her heavy drapes and she could tell that the day was already under way. She began to wonder where her tea was.
Only moments later, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Georgiana called.
The door opened and Mrs. Buckley entered the room.
“Good morning, Miss,” she said.
“And good morning to you,” she replied, somewhat less than enthused.
“Did you have a nice evening, Miss Reid?” she asked.
“I did, indeed. But, Mrs. Buckley, I am surprised to see you. Tell me, did Rachel never return last evening?” she asked, curious.
Before she had left for the ball, Georgiana had been terribly anxious. Her mother had simply told her to relax and wait. She had insisted that Rachel would surely return later in the evening from whatever duties had kept her away.
But now, in the moment of asking her question, Georgiana saw the look in Mrs. Buckley’s eyes. She did not return Georgiana’s eye contact, but kept her eyes trained on the tea as she took in and subsequently released a deep breath, making no comment on the whereabouts of Rachel.
“Mrs. Buckley?” Georgiana asked in a tone that was…unpleasant. She would not have anyone hiding the facts from her.
Mrs. Buckley turned to her and clenched her jaw for a moment before answering.
“Miss Reid, I apologize. I know not what to say. Miss Smithfield, our dear Rachel, she never did return in the night. I thought that she would. I was sure of it. But she never came. There is no reason for it that I can think of. I can only assume that something must have happened to her,” Mrs. Buckley said, her voice teetering on panic.
“Oh, Mrs. Buckley!” exclaimed Georgiana.
“Forgive me, Miss. I know that I must look like a blubbering fool, but I do care a great deal for that girl. I cannot bear to think what might have come to pass that would be keeping her away. It worries me. It causes me to fear for her very life,” Mrs. Buckley said, handing Georgiana the tea.
“Surely nothing so horrid could have happened, Mrs. Buckley. Come now, have we had a look in her room? Thoroughly, I mean. Not simply the quick care we took previously, but a proper looking to,” Georgiana suggested.
“I am not sure what more we need to be looking at,” Mrs. Buckley said.
“Well, what all is there in the room? Has she removed anything? Are her clothes present or missing? We must learn whether she was forcibly removed or left of her own accord,” Georgiana said.
“I shall do my best to investigate, Miss Reid,” Mrs. Buckley promised.
With that, Mrs. Buckley left the room and Georgiana finished drinking the tea before she stood up and went to her wardrobe to dress herself without assistance.
Before long, she was ready, although she crossed her hands over her stomach, insecure that she had not quite dressed as well as she might have, and made her way down the stairs and to the dining room where her mother, father, and brother already awaited.
“Ah! There she is. You would have been proud of her, Father, had you been at the ball,” William said.
“Is that so? I hear that you had quite an array of gentlemen interested in dancing with you,” her father said.
“Not so grand, Father,” Georgiana replied.
“She is being modest. There were, indeed, a number of men interested in dancing with her. Of course, our girl is wise and chose only those worthy of her time,” her mother remarked, snidely.
“I suppose that is as it ought to be,” her father said.
Georgiana looked around and smiled at Sarah when she came to serve them their breakfast.
“Sarah, no news?” Georgiana asked.
But Sarah simply shook her head, looking embarrassed when Georgiana’s mother and father looked at her with curiosity.
“Rachel,” Georgiana explained. “She has not yet returned.”
She noted the way William looked up with a mild concern, but, after a pause, he returned to his dining and said nothing on the matter.
“You needn’t worry,” her mother said.
“What is this? Rachel? Has something happened?” her father asked.
Georgiana exhaled as a wave of relief wash over her. At last, someone was willing to ask about what had taken place.
“Yes, Father. She is missing. We do not know what has happened. She is simply gone. Since yesterday at this same time,” Georgiana explained.
Her father’s brows drew together and he looked at her mother who barely even acknowledged the issue with him.
“How is it that I was not made aware of this?” he asked.
