Bedford Street Brigade 01 - Where the Lady Belongs (6 page)

She kissed him again as tears ran down her cheeks. She was left with only one choice.

Cora would have kissed him once more, but Mack lifted his mouth from hers when he realized she was crying.

“It’s all right, sweetheart. Everything’s over.”

She nodded.

“Let me take you upstairs. You need to rest, and I need to leave for a little while. Will you be all right until I return?”

“Yes.”

Mack helped her to her feet, then led her up the stairs. When they reached her room, he gave Elsie strict orders to make sure Cora rested, then kissed her lightly on the forehead, and left.

“Would you like some tea brought up?” Elsie asked when Mack was gone.

“No, I think I’ll just lie down for a while.”

“Very good, miss.”

Cora didn’t lie down when Elsie left the room but went to the desk and took out a sheet of paper. She needed to write Mack a letter.

It would be the hardest letter she’d ever written.

T
alking to the authorities took hours longer than he thought it would. Then, talking to Sir George Grey took even more time. It was late, and he was tired and frustrated, and his ribs ached. All he wanted to do was go home and hold Cora and tell her everything would be all right.

She was scared and needed him to convince her that his life wasn’t always like this. That if she married him, she would never have to go through anything as terrifying again.

He knew she had doubts. Who wouldn’t? But he needed her to get them out into the open so that they could talk about them. So he could minimize the dangers and tell her about all the days that would be normal. Peaceful. Wonderful.

And he needed to convince her that his love for her was enough. That the love they shared would make any danger seem insignificant by comparison.

The ride home seemed to take forever, but he used the time to make a mental note of everything he wanted to tell her. He listed every point he wanted to make to convince her that they were perfect for each other and their lives would be perfect. They just had to get this behind them so that they could face the future.

His hansom cab finally pulled up in front of his home. He paid the driver and raced up the steps. Harper opened the door before he reached for the knob.

Mack handed Harper his hat and gloves. “Good evening, Harper. Has Miss Lane eaten already?”

“I’m glad you’re home, sir.”

Mack stopped to look at the expression on Harper’s face. “Is there a problem?”

The first wave of unease washed over him. He looked to the top of the stairs, knowing that any trouble concerned Cora. He turned to the stairs, but Quinn’s voice stopped him.

“Mack?”

Mack turned, then walked toward Quinn. When Quinn entered Mack’s study, Mack followed him. His five friends were in the room. Cora was not.

Jack sat in a chair at one side of the fireplace. Hugh sat in a chair on the opposite side. Roarke and Briggs sat on the sofa that formed another arc to the circle. Two empty chairs completed the circle.

Quinn closed the door behind Mack, then walked to a sideboard and poured Mack a glass of whiskey. After he handed the glass to Mack, he sat in one of the two empty chairs.

“This reminds me of a wake,” Mack said, taking a sip from his glass.

“It was supposed to be a celebration,” Jack said. “But … ” His words died.

“A celebration without Cora? That hardly seems polite considering the part she played in all this.”

“Cora’s not here, Mack,” Quinn said. “She’s gone.”

Mack couldn’t seem to move.

“She left shortly after you did.”

“I see,” Mack muttered.

“She left you this.”

Quinn handed Mack a letter. It was written in Cora’s neat hand. Mack walked to the window to read it. Somehow he knew he’d need privacy.

He stood for several minutes without reacting, then slowly lifted Cora’s message and carefully read it again. When he finished, he turned to face his friends. “I have to go to her. I can’t let it end this way.”

“No, Mack. Cora asked that we keep you here. She needs time. She’s frightened.”

“What did she say?”

Quinn looked at Jack, and Jack nodded. Quinn took a deep breath before he spoke. “She said that she loved you too much to wake up each morning knowing that when you left it might be the last time she saw you.”

Mack anchored his hand against the wall to hold himself upright. When he regained his composure, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked to the chair. He was surrounded by his friends, and yet …

He’d never felt so alone in his life.

Cora put little Benjamin down for his nap, then sat in the shadows of the nursery to watch him sleep. It was quiet here. No one bothered her or watched her to see if she was better today than yesterday.

It had been two weeks, and she was tired of putting on an act for everyone around her. She was tired of pretending she was happy when she was so miserable she thought she would die. She missed Mack so much that she didn’t think she could survive one more day without him.

Cora closed her eyes and let the tears spill down her cheeks. She quickly swiped them away when the door opened and Bridgette entered the room.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

As if her sister knew Cora needed a few seconds to compose herself, Bridgette peeked at her tiny son sleeping peacefully in his crib. When she returned, she slid a chair closer to Cora and sat.

“I had a visitor a few minutes ago,” Bridgette said.

“Oh, anyone I know?”

“Yes, he said he knew you.”

Cora looked at her sister.

“He introduced himself as a Mr. Quinn Walker. He was a tall man. Quite handsome in a rugged way. He said he was a mutual friend of yours and Mr. Wallace’s.”

Cora’s heart pounded in her chest. She had to work harder to take in a breath. “Did he say why he called?”

“He was concerned about you and asked how you were doing.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth, Cora. I told him you were unhappy and hadn’t been the same since you returned from Mr. Wallace’s.”

“Bridgette, no.”

“Yes, Cora. I told him I was terribly worried about you and didn’t know what to do to help you get better.”

“Oh, Bridgette. I wish—”

“Mr. Walker told me he was terribly worried about Mr. Wallace, too.”

The knot in Cora’s chest grew heavier. “Is Mack ill?”

“Not ill exactly. He’s suffering from the same malady as you are. He’s as miserable as you.

Cora lowered her gaze to her hands resting in her lap. Her eyes burned with tears. “That can’t be helped, Bridgette. There’s nothing to do about what bothers either Mr. Wallace or me.”

“Why don’t you tell me what that is, Cora? Maybe something
can
be done to help you.”

Cora shook her head. “There’s nothing, Bridgette. I found out how dangerous Mack’s work is. I haven’t waited all these years to find a love I can’t live without, only to wake up one morning and have lost it.”

“Do you think you’re the only person who feels that way, Cora? Do you think we don’t all feel that way?”

“You can’t know, Bridgette. Stewart spends his days in the House of Lords when in session, and the rest of his time overseeing his estate.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t lose him in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s not the same, Bridgette.”

“I’m sure that’s what Lady Markham thought until last month when they brought her young husband’s body home. A deer spooked Markham’s horse, and it threw the earl. He broke his neck.”

“Or I’m sure that’s what Lord and Lady Winscott thought when they put their happy and healthy three-month-old daughter to bed one night. Then couldn’t wake her the next morning.”

Cora clenched her hands together until they hurt.

“Do you think Lady Markham regrets loving her husband or doesn’t cherish every day she had with him? Do you think Lord and Lady Winscott wish they’d never had their little girl?”

Cora couldn’t answer her sister, because she knew what that answer must be. How could any wife who’d found love wish she hadn’t known it? How could any parent wish they’d never known their child? Even if only for three short months.

“There are no guarantees in this world, Cora. No promises for how long we will be given happiness. When you find love, enjoy every day for as long as life lasts. Don’t live your life regretting that you didn’t grab the chance at happiness that you were offered.”

Bridgette rose from her chair. “Now. Change into something happy and cheerful, and put on your best bonnet. Your Mr. Wallace should be here shortly.”

“Mack is coming?”

“Yes. Mr. Walker and I decided both of you needed to go for an afternoon ride on this lovely day. And when you return, I’ll tell Cook there will be one extra for dinner. It’s time Stu and I got to know this Mr. Wallace of yours.”

Fresh tears spilled down Cora’s cheeks. Only this time they were tears of joy. “How did you get so wise, little sister?” Cora asked before Bridgette left the room.

“By listening to my older sister, you silly goose.”

Cora dressed in one of her favorite gowns and swept her hair up from her face in a loose style that fit nicely with the bonnet she’d chosen. Her gown was a cheery yellow and white muslin, and her bonnet had a wide yellow ribbon that wound around the brim, then tied beneath her chin. She grabbed her bonnet from the bed when an upstairs maid rapped on the door to announce that Mr. Mack Wallace was downstairs.

Cora couldn’t wait to see him. It had been two weeks, and every thought she’d had during that time had been about him. Every night had been filled with dreams about him. She’d missed him more than she thought it was possible to miss anyone.

She rushed down the hall and was halfway down the stairs before she saw him.

The expectant look on his face was filled with yearning. His deep brown eyes brimmed with hopefulness. She recognized the expectation in his gaze, because it was the same expectation she felt.

She stopped, then rushed the rest of the way down. When she reached the bottom, she paused for a moment as if fearing she’d read his intentions wrong.

He took several steps forward and held out his arms.

Cora rushed into his welcoming embrace and lifted her head to meet his kiss. This was where she belonged. For as long as God gave them together.

She would cherish each and every day.

Cora cut the blueberry cobbler and placed several pieces on a plate. Blueberry cobbler was Hugh’s favorite. Next, she dished several pieces of peach pie and put them on a plate. Peach pie was Quinn’s favorite. Then she set several strawberry-filled pastries on a plate. These were Jack’s favorite. Roarke’s favorite was coconut cake. She put a gigantic piece of cake on a plate and added it to the collection. And finally, she brought over a large bowl of sweetened rice pudding topped with plump raisins, melted butter, and cinnamon. This was Briggs’s favorite.

When everything was arranged, she sent the dishes in with the staff. She led the way to make sure each man got the correct dessert.

The two had entertained Mack’s friends several times since she and Mack were married nearly three months earlier, but tonight’s dinner was special. Tonight, Mack had a venture he wanted to introduce to his friends. A venture that would make them business partners.

“And now,” Cora announced when she reached the dining room, “it’s time for dessert. For Quinn we have peach pie. For Hugh we have blueberry cobbler. For Jack, a half dozen strawberry-filled pastries. For Roarke, a quarter of a coconut cake. And for Briggs, a large bowl of sweetened rice pudding with raisins, melted butter, and cinnamon.”

The men rose from their chairs and gave Cora a rousing round of applause, then made several teasing remarks about Mack’s thickening waist. Although that wasn’t true. For some reason Cora didn’t understand, Mack’s waist didn’t seem to be affected by the amount of desserts he ate.

“You have outdone yourself tonight, Cora,” Quinn said. “Is there a special announcement you and your husband invited us to hear?”

Cora’s cheeks warmed because it was too early to make the announcement Quinn was hinting at. And if she was carrying Mack’s child as she assumed she was, she wanted to tell Mack privately before she announced it to his friends.

“Yes, there is an announcement, but it’s nothing that involves me. My husband, however, has an announcement to make.”

“Oh, this must be serious, fellows. Mrs. Wallace is a conspirator and has provided our favorite desserts to sweeten us up for the kill.”

Serious expressions covered the five men’s faces, and they laid their forks down. “Very well, Mack,” Quinn said as spokesman for the group. “Let’s hear this grand announcement.”

Mack looked at her, and Cora smiled. But she was nervous. What if none of the men saw merit in Mack’s idea? What if this wasn’t a venture they thought would work?

Cora clasped her fingers tight but kept her gaze focused on her husband.

Mack sat forward in his chair and rested his forearms on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I have something I’d like to propose to you.”

The men sat forward in their chairs and showed interest.

“We’ve lived through many changes since the Bow Street group was disbanded several years ago. The Metropolitan Police has taken over and formed a Detective Department, but that crew is small and inexperienced.”

“What are you saying, Mack?” Jack asked.

“There are a lot of cases out there that need to be solved, and a lot of victims and families of victims willing to pay to find out who committed crimes against them. But you know—as do I—that each one of us is limited as to what he can accomplish working independently. I’d like to form a group similar to the Bow Street group. And I’d like you to join me.”

Silence.

“I don’t expect an answer right away,” Mack said when no one spoke, “but I’d at least like you to consider the advantages of working as a group.”

Cora watched as the shocked expressions turned to smiles.

“I don’t believe this,” Quinn said, leaning back in his chair and laughing. “I’ve dreamed that you’d come up with this plan, Mack. You’re the only one with the ingenuity and organizational skills to lead us. I’m in! I definitely want to be included.”

“As do I,” Jack voiced.

“And me,” Briggs said.

“Me, too,” Hugh said.

“Well, you’re not leaving me out,” Roarke said.

“And what will we call ourselves?” Quinn asked, looking at Mack.

Mack smiled at his wife. “Cora thought that, perhaps, since we live on Bedford Street and will be headquartered here, we might consider calling ourselves the Bedford Street Brigade.”

“The Bedford Street Brigade,” Quinn repeated. “I like it. It’s perfect, Cora.”

Quinn rose first and walked to where Mack sat. Mack rose and took Quinn’s extended hand. “Do you know how fortunate you were to meet Miss Cora Lane, Mack?”

“Oh yes,” Mack answered. “That day at the Exhibition was the luckiest day of my life.”

“It was a lucky day for all of us,” Hugh said, shaking Mack’s hand.

And the men of the Bedford Street Brigade sealed their futures with a handshake.

While Mack and Cora sealed their happily ever after with a kiss.