Chapter 9
Gabriella had not felt this horrid since she was a child and had lied to her sisters about the biscuits.
She’d pilfered the last two from the tin in the kitchen, and when she’d heard someone coming, she’d hastily shoved them into her pinafore pocket.
Disappointment had showed on Miranda’s and Fanny’s faces when they discovered none was left.
Because that was what Gabriella told them before walking off and finding a spot where she could enjoy those biscuits in peace.
They hadn’t tasted nearly as good as usual.
Guilt had eventually led to a tearful confession, and to the forgiveness she hadn’t felt she deserved. After that day, she’d always been brutally honest, though she had since learned that this too could have consequences.
None, however, had made her as wretched as now.
The pained look in Kendrick’s eyes when she had revealed what she truly thought speared her heart.
If only she could take it all back and return to the moments before, when he’d made her feel as though she were more than she’d ever dreamed of becoming.
When she’d seen herself through his eyes and realized her high regard for him was reciprocated. And what had she done in return? She’d trampled all over his compliments and turned him into a villain. It was badly done. Worse than that, it undid all the progress they’d made on a personal level.
Whatever hope she might have had of discovering whether or not she affected him as much as he had started affecting her had been obliterated. Unless she were brave enough to overcome fear of rejection and share the truth that burned in her breast.
It was one of the qualities he had remarked on. Being brave. But this… This was a whole new level of vulnerability and the risk — the change it could lead to might prove disastrous.
Then again, it might not.
She weighed the pros and cons as she watched Kendrick climb from the carriage. Continued to do so as she grasped his hand, the firm grip of his fingers closing around hers leaving her slightly breathless. An experience she had yet to grow accustomed to.
Her foot touched the ground and Kendrick began to withdraw. Soon her chance to do the right thing would be gone. This notion — the sheer panic that followed this thought — caused her fingers to dig in and hold on for all she was worth.
His questioning gaze found hers and it took every ounce of courage she possessed to not shy away, to not let go with some inane excuse about losing her balance.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted instead and prayed he would know how deeply she meant it.
“No harm done,” he muttered, a faint smile dimpling the edge of his mouth as he pulled his hand from hers. “Shall we?”
He was already turning away, intent on dismissing what had occurred between them a few minutes prior. Professional, stiff, impersonal. Without awaiting her response, he started toward the tall door leading into the barracks’ main building.
Gabriella’s heart thumped so loudly, the sound filled her ears. Courage would not be enough to right this wrong. She needed something more — something concrete to prove her…her… Her what, exactly?
Why did watching him walk away bother her so? The man infuriated her more often than not, yet her relationship with him had grown into something that made her look forward to getting to Bow Street each morning.
It was no longer about the cases alone or the intriguing puzzles they provided.
It was about him. About sparring with him and knowing the pleasure of simply having him near.
And the possibility she might lose that because she’d blundered was enough to make her want to sit down on the edge of the pavement in full surrender.
Because the truth was, she’d lied to him, hadn’t she? For the first time in twenty years, she’d been dishonest.
She knew damn well he did not hate her. Had seen a flicker of interest cross his face more than once when he’d looked her way.
Had even felt a spark of some sort on the few occasions they’d come into contact.
But he’d seemed to be making a concerted effort to touch her as little as possible these past few months.
Even as he continued to watch her in ways that sent her pulse racing.
It was all so horribly confusing. And it had prompted her to say what she did in the hope of learning the truth. Of having him confess what she was too scared to. Even to herself. Childish. Undeserving of the respect she owed him.
He was almost at the steps leading up to the door. Had not even paused to check if she was following him. Her stomach began turning over. For a second she feared she might be violently ill.
No. She was made of sturdier stuff than that. She was the chief magistrate’s daughter and she would not be wrecked by emotion.
So she straightened her spine, squared her shoulders and said the one thing she believed would make a world of difference. “Peter?”
He froze.
Indeed it felt as though the whole world did.
Gabriella blinked. Had she truly addressed him by his given name in the middle of the street without his giving her leave to do so? As though she had the right? Good grief. A knot was already starting to form in her throat. She couldn’t breathe.
And now he was turning, so slowly a sketch artist could have captured his every movement without any issue. His face slid into view, surprise and confusion warring to dominate his expression. “Did you just…?”
The words trailed off. He was staring at her. Gawking, more like. As though she’d just dropped from the sky.
A quick jerk of her chin answered his question.
She set her mouth in a firm line and walked to where he stood.
“I’ve decided we’ve known each other long enough and that our relationship—” she cleared her throat “—has developed enough to allow it.” His answering frown made her blurt, “Unless of course you disagree, in which case we can forget all about it.”
There. She’d shown her position and given him the chance to do what he wished with it.
Instead of responding right away, he studied her with a quizzical look, then scratched the back of his neck. Heavens, she was tempted to leave him there and go hide in the carriage. Better yet, race back home and dive under her bed.
“It’s not really Bow Street protocol.”
“Kendrick it is then,” she hastened to add, doing her best to look happy about the way in which this discussion was going.
She prepared to brush past him.
His hand caught her arm. “Hold on.”
Drawing breath became a laborious chore. She dropped her gaze to the spot where he held her, felt the heat of him seep through the layers of fabric between them. “Yes?”
He waited until she raised her gaze to his once more, until he could look her straight in the eye. Only then did he say, “I would be honored to have you call me Peter in private.”
“Then you must call me Gabriella in return.”
His gaze heated as they stood there, staring at each other, silently acknowledging what had occurred. The calm that followed made Gabriella forget all about the agitation she’d known before. Suddenly, it felt like all was as it should be, with a great deal more to look forward to later.
But for now…
His thumb stroked over her arm a few times, as though he had no wish to loosen his hold. However, they had come here for a reason and had already lingered in front of the door much longer than what was normal.
“We can discuss what all of this means for us later,” he said as he pulled the door open. “Agreed?”
“Yes. Of course.” She managed to send him a smile and to catch the one he gave her in return before he ushered her into the building.
A wide-open space with checkered tiles greeted them. The white plaster ceiling was held up by dark wood beams. Massive paintings of military figures surrounded by gilded frames hung on the walls. A large desk stood directly before them. Seated behind it was a young man dressed in military attire.
Peter approached him, the heels of his shoes clicking against the floor, the sound echoing through the vast space. “Chief Constable Kendrick.”
The young man stood. “A pleasure, sir. I’m Corporal Tobias Moore. How can I be of assistance?”
When Moore glanced in Gabriella’s direction Peter gestured toward her. “This is my associate, Miss Hastings. She and I have come in regard to an investigation. It’s our understanding that a Mr. Stewart Warren was enlisted here. Any records you have on him would be a great help.”
Moore considered them both with a serious mien. “Has Mr. Warren committed a crime? If so, we have our own court.”
“I am aware. Unfortunately, a crime was perpetrated against Mr. Warren,” Peter explained before adding, “He was murdered.”
A shadow fell over Moore’s face. “I’m terribly sorry to hear it.”
Peter nodded. “Our findings suggest he may have been enlisted with the army. If that’s correct and we’re able to locate his record, we may find valuable information that could help catch his killer.”
“Then we’d best not waste any time,” Moore said. “Follow me. I’ll show you to the records room and introduce you to Sergeant Wilkins.”
Moore led the way while Gabriella and Peter walked a few paces behind. Even though her attention was now on the case, a lingering flush from earlier still heated her cheeks. More so when Peter ushered her through the door to the records room, the palm of his hand gently touching her back.
She glanced at him and was briefly rewarded by a look that made her soul flutter with unrestrained delight. And then they were introduced to Wilkins and all was once again appropriately serious — professional — while Moore explained the situation to him.
Peter thanked Moore who took his leave, then produced the calling card he’d collected from Mr. Warren’s pocket. His approximate age was provided to further aid Wilkins’s search.
“This may take a while,” Wilkins said, his expression grave. He nodded toward a spot behind them. “You’re welcome to sit over there while you wait.”