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Kit’s cries jerked Maggie out of a vague dream.
She clawed her way free of the tangled sheets and ran down the hall to his bedroom.
Kit stood in his crib, gripping the bars, his cheeks damp.
“Oh, sweetheart—I’m so sorry I overslept. Let’s get you out of that wet diaper.”
She picked him up and set him on the changing table, pulling off the heavy diaper. He chattered at her as she changed him, waving his hands.
“You keep talking, Kit. I’ll start understanding it sooner or later.” She bent down and kissed his bare tummy, blowing raspberries until he squirmed, his laughter bouncing off the walls.
After dressing him in pants and a long-sleeved shirt, she carried him downstairs, the list of what she needed to do already in her head. She set Kit in his highchair and grabbed his porridge out of the cupboard.
“We’re going to eat, then figure out how to help your dad. I don’t care if he wants to shut us out—we’re a team, and he’s not going to face this alone.” While his porridge cooked, she pulled a bagel out of the bread box and ate it standing in front of the stove. “I wonder if Spencer is free today.”
A knock at the back door startled her. No one came in that way—except—
Spencer appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Maggie knew from the look on his face that he had already heard about Martin.
Before she could open her mouth to say hello he strode forward and wrapped her in a hug.
“How can I help, Mags?”
“Just do this, for a minute.” Tears choked her voice, and Spencer tightened his grip on her, whispering as she fought for control.
Kit pounded on his tray, and Maggie eased back, wiping at her eyes. “My boy is hungry.” She dished up his porridge, heading for the chair next to him. “You’ve been so patient, Kit. Here you go.”
She scooped up a spoonful, his mouth open before she got halfway. He took in the porridge, opened his mouth again as she started to scoop up more.
“Slow down, Kit. You know what happens when you eat too fast.”
“What happens?” Spencer leaned against the other side of the table, waving at Kit.
“I do more laundry.”
Laughter burst out of him, and Kit grinned, his mouth still full of porridge.
“You’ve been lucky with this one, Maggie.”
She smiled, and spooned up more porridge. “You should have seen me a month ago. He spit out every breakfast food I tried. The porridge was a last ditch effort, but like his father, he loves it.” Kit chattered at her. “Sorry, sweetheart. Here’s the last of it.” Once he swallowed the porridge, she gave him the spoon to gum on while she cleaned him up. “Is there anything new about that poor guide?”
Spencer’s humor faded. “Nothing. He had been stabbed—sorry,” he said, glancing over at Kit. “I rang Ian this morning, and he is up to his nose in evidence. Too many people at the manor last night, so he has hundreds of possible suspects, instead of a few.”
“As long as Martin isn’t one of them.”
“Since he was attacked, I doubt he will be on Ian’s list. How much trouble is the Professor in this time?”
She sighed. “A student accused him of assaulting her, out at the dig. It was dark, so I’m hoping she’ll recant once she’s had time to think about it. Martin had to stay in Canterbury, and he refused my help.” She set the bowl and damp rag on the table, twisting her hands together. “We argued, Spence, in a way we never have before.”
“Bound to happen, love.” He cradled her cheek, sympathy in his blue eyes. “You two are brilliant together, but every couple fights, even in the best relationships.”
“Oh, we’ve had our share.” She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened. “But we’ve always found our way to a resolution. This time,” she swallowed, “I walked away before I gave in to my urge to smack him.”
“Mags, look at me.” Maggie knew he’d wait until she obeyed, so she opened her eyes. “You did exactly as the Professor intended. He wanted you safe, even if it meant pushing you away.”
“He did that, all right.” She took a deep breath, and managed a smile. “But now I’m going to help him, whether he wants it or not.”
“Maggie.” Spencer laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not just you anymore.”
She looked over at Kit, who was in the process of trying to scoot under the tray. “Oh, no you don’t, little man.” Easing out of Spencer’s grip, she strode over to the highchair and lifted Kit, settling him on her hip. “I want him to grow up with both parents.”
“As do I. You can make lists and scheme all you’d like, sweetheart, but I am not going to stand by while you throw yourself into danger.”
“I don’t—fine.” She could hardly argue with him, when there was too much evidence on his side of the argument. Even if she did just stumble into that danger—most of the time. “Will you go to Canterbury if we need to?”
“Just for you, Mags.” He kissed her cheek, then leaned down and tickled Kit. “Ready for an adventure, sport?” Kit laughed, bouncing on Maggie’s hip. “Only on paper, but it will be grand.”
He looked at Maggie when he said the last part, one eyebrow raised. She sighed, nodding at him.
As much as she hated the idea of leaving Martin on his own, she knew he was only trying to protect them.
“Let’s have some breakfast, and start that list.”
“There’s my Maggie. How would I ever go through life without one of your lists?”
***
A constable greeted Jamie as he and Martin entered the station. He halted at Jamie’s wave, and leaned on his cane while the constable spoke to Jamie, his voice too low for Martin to hear.
“Thank you, Will.” He clapped the constable on the shoulder and headed over to Martin. “That was good news. The victim is here, and she revised her statement.”
Martin swallowed. “What did she say?”
“That she doesn’t believe you attacked her.”
Relief had him gripping the cane, his knees weak. “Am I free to go?”
“After you sign some paperwork for me.” Jamie smiled. “Then I’ll be more than happy to drive you back over to your dig site.”
“Thank you,” Martin whispered. The last time he had faced charges, his accuser had been much less pleasant.
Jamie led him over to the counter. “It has been my distinct pleasure, Professor. Now, shall we get you cleared to go?”