She trusted him, and he trusted her, which caused a dam of emotion to break open, flooding his being with a purifying relief. He suddenly found he couldn't talk fast enough, “My family used to live on a vast estate in Sevenoaks.”
“Our country home is in Kent as well, in Penshurst,” Bridget interjected before quickly adding, “But do go on, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
Colin smiled at her, letting her know he wasn't bothered by her interruption. “There was a good-sized pond not far from the main house that Mother would take me and my sister, Lily, to after we'd finished our lessons for the day. We loved rowing out on the water while Mother would sing us silly songs. She always brought delicacies from the kitchen for us to snack on, which was a real treat. It was my favorite thing to do, and I would rush through my lessons to be able to enjoy our outings sooner.”
He paused, lost in the memories, focusing on the good to avoid what he knew he must tell her next. With the gentle squeeze of his hand, Bridget brought him back to her, and he cleared his throat and continued, “One day, it was a Thursday, I remember, Lily was in a particularly jovial mood. She was bouncing about and refused to listen to Mother. We were in the rowboat when she stood up so fast it rocked the boat, causing her to lose her balance and tumble over the side.”
Colin shuddered as his eyes closed, unable to block out the painful memories of that day. “It all happened so fast. My mother and I both tried to pull her back, but Lily was so panicked she couldn't stop flailing long enough to grasp on to either one of us. We watched with horror as she continued to bob up and down, inhaling water. I didn't even know how to swim, but I jumped in after her, fear propelling my bravery. My mother soon jumped in too, but it was too late, Lily went under and didn't come up again.”
“Oh, Colin,” Bridget gasped, her thumb stroking his hand in an attempt to offer comfort.
He looked at her, touched by the moisture he saw gleaming in her eyes. “It gets worse,” he promised her solemnly. “Everything was a blur after that. My mother forced me to shore, then frantically went back to recover Lily's body from the pond. I'll never forget the agony on her face as she dragged her from the water, lifeless and pale. The rest of the day is lost to me. I honestly don't remember what happened between Lily's drowning and my mother's death that night.”
“No!” Bridget exclaimed in horror at his further confession. “Your mother died as well? But how?”
“The responsibility she felt for my sister's death was too much for her to bear. She hung herself in the attic.” Colin purposefully avoided the details of how he'd been the one to find her.
Ignoring the tears that were now openly streaming down Bridget's face, he forged on, “What I'm about to tell you didn't start happening until much, much later. My father moved us from that house to London after they died, where I had the great fortune of becoming acquainted with a man named Alistair Wellington.”
“The famous detective?” She asked in awe.
Colin smiled. “You've heard of him?”
“Most people have,” she admitted.
It brought happiness to his heart to hear this. “He was even greater than the tales make him out to be, I can assure you. He took me under his wing when my father turned his back on me, favoring the bottle to facing reality. Alistair patiently taught me his craft, tutoring me in his ways, preparing me to be of use to society. I'll forever be indebted to him. He became more of a father to me than my own.”
“Is your father still living?”
“He passed away a year after Alistair did.”
“So much loss,” Bridget whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. “How do you bear it?”
With his free hand, Colin reached across his body to stroke Bridget's cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears gently. Her skin was the softest he'd ever felt, like smooth porcelain. His insides coiled with heat at the intimacy they were sharing, both emotional and physical. He'd never been so vulnerable with another human being before.
“How do I bare it? By working so much, I don't have time to dwell on it all,” he admitted. “And to be frank, I don't think I'm alone in my endeavors. The reason I shared all of that with you is to explain to you what I just experienced, something that started happening shortly after beginning my tutelage with Alistair. I started to have these visions of sort, where I'm shown things about cases I wouldn't otherwise know. These visions come to my mind along with pieces of information so startling and clear that help me solve a case. I know it sounds strange, but somehow I feel as if it's my mother helping me, guiding me.”
“You're gifted,” Bridget whispered, her voice full of awe.
“Or mad,” he pointed out.
Shaking her head, she remarked, “Madness is often mistaken for genius.”
Her words sunk deep into his soul, causing foreign feelings to distill upon him. Sharing with her something so private had left him feeling exposed, but not in danger, raw, but surprisingly accepted.
“You believe me,” he stated with reverent awe. “But why?”
“Because you believed me.” Her whispered words floated between them, weaving a bond of unbreakable trust around them.
Gone were the carriage and thoughts of her father's murder. Gone were the painful memories of his childhood and the ache to belong and be loved. In their place were newly blossomed feelings of acceptance and desire intertwined with longing that pressed upon him and caused him to do something else he'd also never done before.
Colin cupped Bridget's face tenderly in his hands. His breathing was ragged as he slowly lowered his face to her own. He searched her eyes for resistance but found the same burning desire he possessed reflected in her eyes, and he became at once ravenous.
The barest touch of her lips against his own caused his body to tremble with longing. Her slender hands slid to his chest, clinging tightly to his cravat as she pulled him closer still. He willingly obliged, transforming the kiss from a chaste and tender touch to one burning with fire.
Her soft moaning against his mouth urged him on. He explored her mouth with his tongue as he acquainted himself with her soul. Oh, how passionate she was!
Colin continued to feast on her lips while she twined her fingers in his hair. She surprised him by pressing firm kisses to his jaw, trailing them towards his neck where she hesitated, her hot breath puffing against his taut skin.
Shivers of delight coursed through his entire being, causing him to moan. All these sensations were new and intoxicating and addicting. “Bridget,” he called out reverently. Her name sounded as if it belonged on his lips, just as she tasted as if she belonged there too.
With every ounce of willpower he possessed, Colin allowed one final scorching kiss to her soft and eager lips before forcing himself to withdraw. If he didn't stop now, he'd never stop.
Bridget's eyes were hazy with longing, her lips swollen with delight. She'd never looked more beautiful, having been thoroughly kissed, her passion aroused. He felt honored that she'd trusted him enough to share in such intimacies, intimacies that forged a bond of familiarity between them.
His breathing was still ragged as he confessed, “If I'm not careful, Bridget, I'll find myself falling irrevocably in love with you.”
“Don't be careful,” she begged, and he knew in that moment it was useless to fight. Falling in love with her would be the most natural, delightful thing he could do.
“If you want me to be reckless, I will.”
“'Tis nothing I want more,” she confessed with the most joyful, sincere smile he'd ever seen on her lovely face.
Colin dreaded breaking the spell of affection woven around them as blossoming feelings emerged, but he knew he had to, for the temptation would be too great otherwise. He hesitated a long time before bringing her thoughts back to the case at hand and speaking to her of his concerns. “Bridget, you're the only person Beatrice will open up to. You must get her to talk about what happened the night your father was killed.”
Her calm, well-loved
mouth trembled with concern as she blinked several times, clearly trying to digest the sudden change in topics. “I don't want to upset her.”
“No, and neither do I, but she will not talk to anyone but you. Will you at least try to get her to recall what happened? I will bring you to my residence so you can spend the afternoon with her while I go investigate some matters of great importance.”
“Very well,” she sighed, clearly torn between wanting to help and not wanting to bring further trauma to Beatrice. “But what of my mother? She will worry when she finds I'm not home.”
“You must send her a missive telling her you came to see Beatrice because you missed her. Tell her you'll return by evening. She can't argue with that, can she?”
“Clearly, you don't know my mother well,” Bridget said dryly. “She will argue with a bonnet that displeases her if she's in the right mood. I've seen it done before.”
“I'm certain you have, but we can deal with your mother's ire later—together,” he quickly added.
“But mother doesn't like you,” she pointed out with a measure of hesitation.
“Well, she will have to find it in herself to tolerate me, because I have no intention of staying away from you.”
Bridget looked up at him with trust and longing in her eyes. “She'll come around. She simply needs to get better acquainted with you, as I have done.”
Unable to help himself, he brushed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb and watched as she trembled with desire. “No, not as you have done. I reserve my passions for you alone.”
Her sooty lashes fluttered against her alabaster cheeks as her chin tilted towards him, seeking his lips with her own. His mouth was a hairbreadth away from hers when his carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of Colin's townhouse.
With an irritated sigh, he forced himself to part from her, the kiss stolen away by vexatious timing. With no other choice, Colin alighted then turned to assist Bridget down, his skin prickling with desirable sensations as he touched her again. He was certain their intimate exchange had already caused addiction to take root within him.
He showed her to his drawing-room and said, “Warm yourself by the fire while I go fetch some parchment and a quill.” And the dagger, he silently added to himself, knowing he needed it for what he was about to do.
“And Beatrice?” she asked, hopefully, eagerly.
“And Beatrice,” he added with a smile.
It took him quite a bit longer to find Beatrice than it did to find the parchment and quill and dagger, which he slid beneath his waistcoat to hide it from view. But in no time, he was rushing down the hall with her, trying to keep up with her excitement.
“Bridget is here? Is she really here?” she kept asking over and over again, despite the fact that he'd answered in the affirmative several times.
Ruth, the girl he'd hired to watch her, scurried along behind them seeming nearly as excited as Beatrice. When they reached the drawing-room, Beatrice ran to Bridget, almost knocking her over with her exuberance. Colin laughed as Bridget and Beatrice twirled around, giggling in merriment. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Ruth, who was beaming as well, and he knew the joyful scene before them was infectious.
“Raven bought you this,” Beatrice said excitedly as she withdrew the butterscotch stick purchased the other day from somewhere in the folds of her skirt. She held it an inch from Bridget's face. “I've been saving it for you.”
Bridget accepted the gift happily. “Shall we share it?”
Beatrice's face grew eager, but Ruth quickly stepped forward and interjected, “Perhaps tomorrow, but not today. Beatrice just got done eating some leftover trifle from last night's dinner.”
Bridget folded the candy stick in her hand. “Tomorrow then.”
Colin could tell Beatrice was about to argue. He'd come to know how seriously she took her consumption of sweets, so he quickly stepped between the pair, hoping to interfere before it was too late. “I must get going. If you pen a missive to your mother, I'll see that it's delivered on my way out.”
Bridget took the offered parchment and quill and moved to the small writing desk in the corner of the room. Colin listened to Ruth detail Beatrice's activities for the day, pleased that she'd mostly behaved, while he waited for Bridget to finish.
When she was done, Colin took the missive and said, “Enjoy your time with Beatrice. I'll be back later this evening.”
“Goodbye,” she said, “and thank you.”
He glanced at her lips, wishing he could take her in his arms and kiss her farewell, but knew it would be inappropriate in front of the others. So instead, he winked and said, “Goodbye,” already anticipating eagerly the moment he'd return.
He'd only been given the smallest glimpse, but Colin hoped it was enough to solve the murder of Elias Godwin. With a newfound bounce in his step, that could rightfully be attributed to Bridget more than anything, he bounded towards his carriage and gave his driver instructions on where to take him.
Colin's mind swirled with so many disjointed thoughts as he drove along the streets of London. Most often, they kept coming back to the kiss he'd shared with Bridget, causing his entire body to heat from the memory. He had to willfully force his mind to focus on the task at hand, which was no easy feat.
Nearly a quarter of an hour later, his carriage slowed to a crawl as it turned on to Bond Street. Colin glanced eagerly out the window, looking for the building he'd been shown in his vision. When they pulled in front of a formidable baroque-style building with impressive columns at the entry, Collin quickly tapped on the ceiling of the carriage, alerting his driver to stop.
Though there was no sign to indicate what the building was, thanks to his vision, Colin knew he was precisely where he needed to be. He instructed his driver to wait then quickly made his way inside. The interior of the building formed a semi-circle with individual offices branching off of it. He traipsed along the polished marble floor reading the gold plaques at the entry of each office until he found one that read, “Godwin and Lloyd,” then quickly let himself inside.
A small bell above the door chimed as he entered, but no one was inside. He curiously wondered why the door had been left unlocked but took advantage of the opportunity it presented regardless. A quick inspection of the office showed that it had very recently been ransacked. Papers were scattered all about the desk, and an inkpot had been turned over during the search. It laid on its side dripping black, syrupy ink onto the Aubusson rug below.
Careful not to step into the puddle of ink, he maneuvered his way around the bulky desk so as not to disturb anything. Pinching his eyes together, he forced his mind to recall the vision he'd been given until he could see the exact location of what he was looking for, of what the thief had been looking for.
Dropping to his knees, Colin slowly peeled back the edge of the rug, rolling it up to expose the marble floor beneath. His fingers slowly slid along the sharp ridges between the marble tiles until he felt the tiniest movement, indicating he'd found the right spot. His fingers dug into the seam, trying to get a grasp on the marble tile to remove it and reveal the hidden compartment beneath, but it was no use, he couldn't get a good enough grasp to lift it.
Rolling back on his haunches, he looked around the room for something that would help him pry the tile up. His eyes settled on a silver letter opener on the desk, and he quickly reached for it. Placing the tip of the blade in the almost imperceptible opening, Colin pried the marble tile lose until he could get his fingers beneath it and lift it from its spot.
Beneath the flooring was a small narrow opening. Colin stuffed his hand inside the slender space until he felt his fingers wrap around a box. With excitement, he withdrew the box, knowing what it held before he even opened the lid to reveal its contents.
He was so confident in the vision he'd been given he almost didn't open the box, but curiosity got the better of him. The hinges squeaked slightly as he opened the lid to reveal an identical twin dagger to the one th
at had been used to stab Elias. He set the box down on the desk and gently lifted it from it's resting place, revealing a folded document beneath it.
Ignoring the parchment for a moment, he turned the dagger over in his hands then held it close to his face as he slid the blade from its sheath. At the base of the blade near the handle, the initials E.G. were engraved. The letters were so minuscule it was hard to see them without looking up close.
The familiar thrill of being on the precipice of solving a case hummed through his veins as he reached for the dagger used to stab Elias Godwin hidden in his waistcoat. Unwrapping it from the handkerchief, Colin laid the two knives side by side on the desk while he inspected them both. They were identical to one another, even down to the tiny engraved initials, but he knew that one was a fraud.
With plans to visit a jeweler for verification, he wrapped the impostor back up and then reached for the tri-fold piece of parchment that had been in the box with the dagger. It was a will drawn up by a barrister stating that in the event of Elias Godwin's death, his company, Godwin and Lloyd, should be turned over to his brother, Jasper Godwin, in its entirety, with instructions on how to distribute funds to his daughter's and wife.
Though Colin had been led to this box of clues, he was not given the entire solution to the case. His visions didn't work that way. They were a tool to aid him, but he still had to rely heavily upon his own ingenuity to sort through things and put the pieces of the puzzle in their proper place.
Holding another piece in his hand, he couldn't help but wonder if this will was motive enough for Jasper to kill his brother. Was he the one who had done it, hoping to gain the great wealth his brother had earned and enjoyed in his lifetime? Suspicion ate at him as he returned the will and the dagger to its box. He slid the marble back in place, then tucked the box beneath his greatcoat as he left the building for his waiting carriage.
His next stop was a jeweler on Ludgate street. He knew the man somewhat from previous dealings with him in regards to the missing jewels case he'd worked on earlier, and knew he'd be both helpful and knowledgeable.
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