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April 19, 1819
“We have entrusted our sister Sabine Mercy Pritchart to God’s mercy, and we now commit her body to the ground:
“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our frail bodies that they may be conformed to his glorious body, who died, was buried, and rose again for us. To him be glory forever.”
As the closing words of the clergyman’s prayer lingered on the air, Gabriel turned away from his viewing spot at the edge of the churchyard where he’d viewed Sabine’s body being lowered into the freshly dug grave.
There weren’t many people in attendance. Her husband, of course, as well as her son, and though the men certainly weren’t comfortable with each other, they had grief in common, as much as the two of them were able to grieve. A few other men were in attendance, whether they were lovers or merely customers of the butchery, he couldn’t say.
Perhaps it didn’t matter, but the showing reflected on the type of woman the butcher’s wife had been in life. She’d antagonized more than she’d helped. Had it been a product of her existence and environment, or had it been something that had gone wrong in her heart, her soul?
There were no answers; however, she was at peace.
On the way to Portman Square, he admired how lovely the streets of London were this time of year, and that the sun shining in the mid-morning gave everything such a soft, gilded sort of glow.
In short order, he entered No. 10, and immediately a sense of contentment fell over him, as it always did each time he came to visit Mary... when he came into what would be the house where he would reside with Mary. The thought caused him to grin so widely that a footman he passed on the stairs nearly tripped.
Knowing she would be in the morning room breaking her fast at this time of day, he headed there, and as soon as he stepped into the space, the comforting scents of tea and pastries wafted to his nose. He found her sitting at a round table with a plate full of half-eaten foods in front of her and a pot of tea nearby.
“How is my fiancée this fine morning?” God, but that had the ring of domesticity to it, and he couldn’t be more pleased. She hadn’t yet dressed for the day and wore the relaxed dress and robe she’d donned when he’d left earlier that morning. The long snake of her blonde braid over one shoulder made him completely forget that it had been two days since they’d interviewed Sabine’s son, and that the investigation had stalled.
“I am quite well.” She glanced up from the book she held and offered him a sweet grin. “You are certainly in an uplifted mood.” Slowly, she roved her gaze up and down his form with an intensity he could almost feel like a caress. “I wished you could have stayed abed with me, but I must say, the dark mourning clothing is quite handsome.”
“It is what one must do in times like these.” Rarely did he wear the black shirt and cravat, but he did on the occasion of attending the funeral, or at least the outskirts of it. “There were perhaps only a handful there for her,” he said as he dropped into a chair beside her.
Mary set down her book. “You were there, and that speaks volumes to your character.”
“I’m not sure about that. It was merely permanently closing another door to my past. I am not going that way any longer.”
“You are a good man, Bright.” She laid a hand over his that he rested on the tabletop.
“I try to be.”
A maid darted into the room. “Would you like a breakfast plate, Inspector?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“That would be lovely, Sally. Thank you. Oh, and a pot of strong coffee.”
“I’ll bring it up as soon as I can.” Then she ran out of the room as if it would physically pain her to slow down.
Gabriel shook his head as he grinned. “Perhaps I have teased your staff a bit too much.”
The sound of her giggle went straight to his stones. “You are just one of those men women adore.”
“Well, be that as it may, there is only one woman I adore.” With a quick glance at the door to make sure they were truly alone, he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. The angle was too awkward to kiss her with any substance, but there would be other times. When he pulled away, he noted the slight blush in her cheeks even after all this time with her. “We need a council of war regarding the case. I have two days more of my leave from Bow Street. I’m due back in the office on Thursday.”
Where he would probably be given a lecture by the chief inspector and then told he was no longer needed at Whitehall thanks to the foul-tempered Lady Ruddick.
“Agreed, but first I would like to check on the girl in the street.”
“To take her food and perhaps a blanket?” One of the things he loved about Mary was her compassion for everyone around her.
“Yes, but for another reason.”
“Oh?” He frowned, but couldn’t inquire further, for the maid returned to the room with his pot of coffee and dishes on a tray while another maid followed with a tray containing his breakfast items. After both young women deposited their burdens on the table, they left with more than a few glances back at him. “What is troubling you? I’ve noticed something has you distracted but haven’t been able to puzzle it out.”
“And you have been distracted with thoughts—albeit not directly—of Sabine.” Again, she patted his hand, left it atop his when he turned his over and threaded their fingers together. “Ever since we talked to her the other evening, I haven’t been able to evict her from my mind.”
“That’s understandable.” Carefully, Gabriel poured a stream of coffee into a delicate porcelain cup and inhaled the rich fragrance. “What have you decided?” For it was something big; he could see it deep in her eyes.
“I would like to adopt her, give her a name and a home.”
“You would offer her a position of scullery maid or something of that ilk?”
“Not quite.”
“Oh?” Surely, she didn’t mean...
“I... Well, I thought we could possibly become a family.” When tears welled, he took her hand between both of his. “She is so little and thin. A stiff wind could blow her over, but then in the next second, I think about you and how we’ve just become engaged, how I very much want that. Perhaps you wouldn’t want anyone to encroach upon the life we’re building together...”
“Ah, sweeting.” Why had she not shared her fears and dreams before? “Yes, I am largely anticipating beginning a married life with you, being alone with you, but that doesn’t mean I am going to demand you give up everything that makes you unique.” As a tear drop fell to her cheek, he wiped it away with a corner of his linen napkin. “And if it has long been the hope in your heart of hearts to have a child, to be a mother, I will not stand in your way.”
“But I assumed—”
“Everything you knew about men and marriage has been warped.” Gabriel brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I would be delighted to have another child if you wish to share her with me.” Responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders. With his future at Bow Street uncertain, how would he care for her or the child?
“You would?” The hope that shone from the blue pool of her eyes nearly sent him to his knees.
“Yes. However, you must keep in mind that she has largely been wild for years, depending upon no one except herself to survive. She might be too far gone to live a life of domestication.” That was also a sad fact of life for those who lived in the shadows of London’s streets. “Even if she is amenable to the idea, she might be frightened, might run away, might act out and try to do harm to you or herself. Are you prepared for such a responsibility?”
For long moments, Mary held his gaze. Then her chin tilted at the obstinate angle he recognized, and he knew she would continue to fight—for them all. “I appreciate the caveat, and I love you even more for not forbidding me this, but my heart aches each time I think of that wraith of a girl who has no one in her life. And perhaps, just perhaps, if I show her some kindness, if I become her friend, she might manage to surprise us both.”
“And give us a much-needed new perspective.” The idea held merit, but he refused to allow himself to entertain excitement on the chance it might now work. “The best we can do is ask her. If she is resistant or frightened, that is her right.”
“I understand, but I can be quite persuasive.” There was a decided grin curving her kissable mouth as she took a sip of tea.
“Oh, I am well aware of that fact too.” He couldn’t help his own grin as he bit into one of his favorite fruit tarts. “We shall go after we’re finished here.”
God help me, but I can deny her nothing.
Mary waited with held breath on the street a few doors down from Pritchart’s Butchery while Gabriel was inside talking with the butcher one last time. She held a small willow basket containing food and a thin blanket as well as a damp rag with which the girl could wash her face, but as of yet, the urchin hadn’t made an appearance.
Despite the scandal of the murder, there were still quite a few customers making stops at the butchery. Perhaps life went on regardless of death, and people still had to eat. Just when she thought to walk back to the carriage, the girl peeked around the brick corner of the building from the alley. She darted her gaze about the general area, and when her notice landed on Mary, recognition lit in her eyes. Now that the light of day had seeped into the streets and illuminated most of the shadowy parts, those eyes were a light Arctic sort of blue.
“Will you come out so I can talk with you?” As Mary gestured to the girl, her heart strained to provide the child with a safe place to stay. “I have some food and a blanket.”
Slowly, the girl crept forward. “Where is Inspector Bright?”
“Talking with Mr. Pritchart, but I have something to ask you.” When the girl didn’t run away, Mary made sure she was well out of the way of pedestrian traffic then crouched on the pavement. “Living on the street or in mews is no life for a girl like you.”
The urchin shrugged. “Not much choice.”
“But you do have a choice.” Mary’s heartbeat accelerated. Her nerves felt strung too tight. “I would like very much to take you in and bring you to my house.”
“Why?” The girl frowned. Suspicion shadowed her eyes.
“To live. To have a better life. To not need to fight for survival.” When the girl didn’t appear convinced, Mary tried again. “Inspector Bright will be there, for we are engaged to be married. We would be your family, if you wished it.” Then she struck upon a bit of inspiration. “I would like to give you a name.”
Her eyes widened. “A name?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you... care about me?”
“I suppose it does.” Mary offered a smile. “You would sleep in a bed, have clean clothes, be able to wash your body and hair, get regular meals.” No doubt all of this would prove too much for her. “If you don’t want to belong to me and the inspector, you can have a position in my household. A scullery maid then you can work your way to upstairs maid in time.”
But she really hoped to adopt the girl as her own.
When Gabriel joined her, he rested an encouraging hand to Mary’s shoulder. “As Mary has told you, we would like it exceedingly much if you would come home with us. In whatever capacity you can see fit, but we merely wish to give you better than you’ve had before.”
The girl peered up at him, and when the sunlight hit her eyes, they went nearly translucent. “I want that.” She nodded. “Do you promise to give me a name?”
Clearly, that was the sticking point, all due to someone caring for her. “Yes.” Mary nodded. It didn’t matter that the muscles in her legs ached from crouching; it was important to earn the girl’s trust. She glanced upward at Gabriel. “Tell her.”
Late last night, they had decided on a name for the girl.
A grin curved his sensuous lips. “We will call you Cassandra if you wish to become part of our family.”
“Cass-an-dra,” she said as she tried out each of the syllables. So many emotions flitted over her eyes; perhaps it would take far too long for her to trust anyone again. Slowly, she nodded. “I want that name.”
“Good.” With the help of Gabriel, Mary stood. “Would you like to come home now? You’ll have a bath, and my housekeeper will know how to evict the lice from your hair so you’ll stop itching. The kitchens are quite cozy.”
The girl frowned. “Will the inspector be there?”
“Yes.” Mary nodded. “Especially after he and I marry.”
“He won’t try to get under my skirts?”
“No!” Mary’s heart squeezed that the girl would even need to question his motives. “He is everything good and proper and honorable.”
An expression of shock went over Gabriel’s face. “You have my word that I do not violate girls or any female.” He slipped an arm about Mary’s waist. “Mrs. Tomlinson is the only woman who holds my attention.” His frown nearly broke her heart. “You will be safe, for I will protect you and Mary.”
Remarkably, tears welled in the girl’s eyes. “I would like to come with you.”
“That’s wonderful!” For a moment, Mary thought she might faint from relief, but the steady feel of Gabriel’s hand at her waist kept her upright. Because she couldn’t help herself, she closed the distance between her and the child. “Might I hug you?”
She frowned. “What is a hug?”
“When someone who cares about you holds you in their arms for support or comfort or encouragement.” When the girl nodded after a few moments’ hesitation, Mary gently put her arms about the waif and hugged her despite her dirty clothing and form. Oh, dear, she was so thin and fragile! Immediately, she released her. “I’m so glad you have agreed... Cassandra. I think we will all suit together and perhaps eventually form a family.”
The girl stared at her with bemusement. “You smell like flowers. Different than Mrs. Pritchart.”
“Oh? I use a violet perfume...” With a gasp, Mary glanced at Gabriel. “Flowers.”
He nodded. “But Mrs. Pritchart smelled like roses?”
“How very strange,” Mary whispered, “for Lady Ruddick is the one who cultivates roses.”
“I don’t know what the smell is called. Do you want to see the flowers?”
“Yes, Cassandra, we do.” A half-grin curved the inspector’s mouth. “I’ll admit, the name fits.” He gestured at her. “Lead on.” Then he offered his crooked arm to Mary. “This arrangement will prove quite interesting.”
“That is the hope.” She couldn’t contain her excitement or pleasure. Never could she have imagined such a life for herself, and the possibilities left her gasping.
They followed Cassandra into the alley. At the end, she turned left down an even narrower alley with a fence on one side and the brick façade of the building on the other. So narrow, in fact, that they had to go single file. At the end of that was an unremarkable gate with a rusty lock, but the girl removed a pin from her hair and used the makeshift tool to manipulate the mechanism of the lock.
When a distinctive clicking noise echoed in the air, Gabriel nodded. “Impressive.”
Once the girl pushed open the gate, she led the way into a tiny but tidy garden. To one side of the small space, in a strip of recently tilled and tended dirt, were three rose bushes with dark, waxy green leaves. White, blood red, and yellow colors peeked through the fat buds that would bloom soon.
“Good heavens,” Mary breathed as she took a few steps toward the bushes. “To whom do these belong?”
Cassandra shrugged. “Mrs. Pritchart. She puttered out here when the butcher was gone.”
“No wonder she didn’t get along with Lady Ruddick,” Gabriel said in a low voice. “She was the woman’s direct competition.”
“It’s worse than that, Bright.” Mary bent close to examine the pink buds on the bush. “This is an identical match to the bush I inspected in Lady Ruddick’s garden. Is it possible Sabine stole a graft of her original plant?”
“Possible, of course, then mixed bone meal and other ingredients to ensure her roses would grow bigger and better than anyone else’s.” Gabriel shrugged. “Now, with Sabine out of the way, it practically gives the first prize winner ribbon to Lady Ruddick.”
“So, then, are we of an accord on solving this case?” Mary cocked an eyebrow, very aware that Cassandra bounced a curious gaze between them.
“Don’t rush my fences, love. We shall discuss our findings at a later time.” True to his form, he turned his charm onto the girl. “Right now, we have a new member of our family to tend to and see situated.” He winked. “Perhaps on the way, I’ll point out some of my favorite spots.”
A flutter moved through Mary’s heart. Truly, he was a good man, and she hoped he would prove a kind father figure to this wayward girl. “You’re right.” She handed the willow basket to Cassandra. “Let us go home.”
Never before had the word so much meaning.
