Chapter Two
Mary Bright tied the sash of her nightdress at her waist as her husband fumbled with the door latch. Once he finally had it open and then slipped into the dark corridor beyond, she followed at a more cautious pace.
Though the corridor was plunged in inky shadows, the outline of the inspector was unmistakable.
Tall, with a good seven or so inches above her petite height, though he was three and forty, he walked with his back ramrod straight.
As he prowled silently toward the stairs, he rolled the sleeves of his lawn shirt up to his elbows.
His thick brown hair stuck up at all angles from their time in bed, but the lean length of him while she trailed behind still had the power to send tingles through her lower belly.
And would have been so even if she hadn’t just shared the greatest intimacy and pleasure with him not a half hour past.
A faint thud followed by an even fainter sound of breaking glass reached her ears. Not as loud as the first one, but no less disconcerting.
Gabriel reached the stairs and glanced over his shoulder. “Stay close until we can identify the threat.”
“I will,” she said with a nod but suppressed a smile, for her husband was overprotective at times.
Over the two years of their marriage—and even the year before that when they’d conducted an affair and an engagement period—she’d show time and again that she was fully capable of defending herself.
Still, out of an abundance of caution, Mary checked on the children, but there was nothing untoward in each of their rooms, and they slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the potential danger.
After reaching the second level, a cursory check of the dining room, the morning room, and the drawing room as well as the butler’s pantry didn’t reveal an intruder.
“Should we light a candle?” she asked in a whisper as they once more were at the stairs and descending to the lower level.
“And warn our potential adversary? Not just yet.” The rumble of his whisper tickled through her chest.
“Right.” She nodded. “What of the servants? Should we alert them?” Two young maids, the housekeeper, and the butler lived in, with the maids residing in the attic portion of the townhouse, and the other two having rooms beneath across from the kitchen.
“No. It would be a detriment to have other people underfoot.”
Silently, Mary followed her husband down the stairs as she ruminated on the layout of the townhouse.
A few months ago, they’d moved the children to their own rooms and out of the attic where they had been using a nursery and schoolroom, but now that they were older and more settled into the family after being adopted, they needed separate spaces and a place to call their own. Additionally, the maids needed rooms.
It was a blessing that her household was growing, but sometimes it felt as if they were bursting at the seams. Even though that was true and the house was full, it was still eerily silent.
The first room from the staircase on that floor was her husband’s study turned private detective office.
This particular room used to be the back parlor, and the connecting door opened into the office.
Since it was windowless, Mary lit a candle in a brass holder that sat on the desk, much to Bright’s annoyance, but he only grunted.
Immediately, golden illumination filled the space.
The room was just as tidy as Adelaide had left it the evening before.
Since she had become Bright’s secretary a few months ago, his working area was always left in order.
“Nothing seems amiss,” Mary whispered as she glanced around with the candle aloft.
One of the wonderful things about her niece was the fact the young woman had a knack for organization.
Because of that, Adelaide kept the inspector on schedule and didn’t let his interviews go too long.
She was also adept at weeding out legitimate cases from the ones who were out for the sensation or a handout for nefarious purposes.
With her taking care of the schedule and most of the paperwork, Mary’s time was freed so she could help Bright with investigating cases.
Gabriel came out of his office. “I feel you are correct. Nothing in my office has been touched either. Adelaide keeps the reception area just so; it’s something I appreciate about her. Already, I have no idea how we managed without her.”
“She has been a Godsend, I’ll admit, and she has natural skills in keeping everything running smoothly as well as being able to transcribe your notes.”
The inspector nodded. “I’m in awe of that as well as some of her insights after she’s done that.” His dark eyes glittered in the anemic light. “Not only that but she can make sense of Kourier’s notes whenever we work the odd case together.”
Which they had been doing for the past month.
At first, Major Kourier and his wife, Caroline, had dragged their feet in joining together for a partnership, but with Caroline’s pregnancy advancing, the major finally agreed that it was best for all concerned to join forces.
It had brought in enough clients that both detectives were busy.
And another reason she and Bright needed to move to a larger townhouse.
“Let us continue before the intruder escapes,” Mary said in a whisper as she gestured for her husband to precede her out of the room.
“True. I want answers, and to keep the children safe.” Onward they went along the corridor to the library, which was the only other room on this level.
The energy of the corridor changed the moment they entered the room.
Cool autumn air wafted into the room from a break in the French paneled door that led into the rear garden.
It was strong enough to snuff out Mary’s candle.
The acrid scent filled the air as a curl of smoke wound toward the ceiling.
Because of the hole in the glass, the sound of rain was louder here than upstairs.
Then the shadows shifted. Someone darted past her, knocking the candleholder from her hand. It hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud.
“Oh!” Though she scrambled to try and catch it, she failed, so she retrieved the holder then went searching for the candle in the dark.
“Don’t move, Mary!” Of course, her husband jumped into action.
He threw himself in front of her, tackling the figure.
They fell to the floor with hard thumps with Bright straddling the man’s waist. “Who are you, and what the deuce are you doing in my house?” he asked with his hands on the man’s shoulders, which he gave a shake.
“Argh!” The other man’s reply was garbled, no doubt due to Gabriel’s handling.
“Dearest, you might be unintentionally strangling him,” she said as she located the candle and replaced it into the holder. Spilled wax would need to be cleaned up tomorrow morning.
“Ah. Astute of you to notice.”
Apparently, he must have relaxed his hold, for the other man said, “Papa? It’s me, Henry.”
“What?” Mary’s exclamation sounded overly loud in the silence of the room. Henry was Gabriel’s son from his first marriage, and though she might not have birthed the boy and she may not have known him all his life, she had grown close to him since her marriage to Bright. “I don’t understand.”
“The devil you say!” Bright’s response immediately cancelled hers out. They both stared down at the man lying on the floor while she quickly found the container of matches and then relit the candle she held. “Henry?” Confusion rang in the inquiry.
“Yes?”
“Damn it all.” As Gabriel stood and then helped his son into a standing position, Mary bustled around the library, lighting candles as she went. “Why the devil did you break into the house?”
Henry, who looked very much like his father only as a younger version, retrieved his top hat from the floor.
He brushed the rain off it the best he could then shook himself as a dog might do, for he was quite wet from the precipitation despite his gray greatcoat.
“I don’t have a key. It was too late for the butler to answer the door, which was locked.
” A hint of ruddy color crept up his neck over his collar.
“And I know how you enjoy your time alone with Mary.” He cast a glance to her with an apology on his face. “I’m sorry to mention it.”
Heat went into her cheeks. “It is quite all right.” That blame lay entirely on Bright, for he never kept his affection for her a secret, in front of anyone.
Henry nodded. Though he was wet and disheveled, fear reflected deep in the depths of his dark eyes. “In any event, I didn’t wish to disturb either of you, so I resorted to breaking in here, and the weakest point has always been that library door.”
“Very well.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Why are you here at all?” Then he ushered his son over to one of the brown leather sofas in the room.
“Honestly? I think someone is trying to kill me,” the younger man said as he dropped onto that piece of furniture.
“What?” Again, Mary was nonplussed. She set the candleholder on a nearby rose-inlaid table. “Are you certain?
Bright’s eyebrows soared. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just what I’ve said, Papa. I believe someone is trying to evict me from this mortal coil.” Henry rubbed a hand along the side of his face. “It’s most disturbing.”
“How can you know that?”
Henry shrugged. “I’m being followed, and I have the distinct feeling I’ve been watched over the past handful of days.”
“That makes no sense.” Bright sat on the sofa next to his son as he landed his gaze on the younger man. “Why would you think that? You are a solicitor, not a rabble rouser.”
That must have struck Henry as funny, for he gave a snort of laughter.
“That is debatable in certain circles.” He shook his head.
“I haven’t spoken to anyone of much consequence in recent days nor do I have highflyer clients.
At least not yet.” Faint hope lined his expression.
“I am hoping some of my friends put in a good word for me.”