Bedford Street Brigade 02 - Love Unbidden (29 page)

With that, she walked past him and left the room. She helped Janie gather the cups and glasses, and when everything was put away, she looked around.

He was gone.

Roarke walked down the hall toward Lord Strothum’s study. He was late to the meeting Mack had scheduled to update them on what they’d discovered on the outside. He reached the study door, but stopped when he heard her voice coming from inside the room.

Lord Strothum had obviously wanted Mack to meet his children and had asked Miss Shaw to bring them down. The fact that the earl wanted to introduce his children spoke of his pride in them.

Roarke leaned against the wall outside the study door and waited. He didn’t want to interrupt. Nor did he want to enter the room if Miss Shaw was there. She’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want him anywhere near her. He knew his presence would upset her.

Several days had passed since the trip to the park, and during that time, Millie Shaw had done everything in her power to avoid him. The only time he’d caught even a glimpse of her was when she brought the three children down to see their parents each evening. Robbie, of course, wasn’t with them.

It was understandable that he wasn’t, considering that he was a distant relation that Lord Strothum had been kind enough to take in after he’d been left orphaned.

Roarke was glad Robbie had a relative to look after him. There was something special about the lad. Roarke had felt a connection to him the first time he’d met him. He knew what it was like to be orphaned at a young age. Although he hadn’t been alone. He’d had his brother.

Perhaps that was what made Robbie seem special. Or, perhaps it was because he was so different, both in coloring as well as physical build, from the other children. Where the others were blond-haired, blue eyed, and fair skinned, little Robbie
’s complexion appeared handsomely dark, as if bronzed by the sun. His eyes were merry and dark, almost black. Physically, he was a strapping young lad, nearly as tall as Henry, who was three years older.

Roarke was glad the lad had Millie Shaw to look after him. She’d proven that she wouldn’t let anyone exclude him. From what he’d seen
so far, she had a special fondness for the lad. She hovered over him like a mother hen.

Roarke heard Lord and Lady Strothum bid their children goodbye and he stepped into the shadows so she wouldn’t see him. The door opened and she emerged from the study carrying the babe and ushering the two older children across the foyer and toward the stairs. Even though he was a good distance from her and didn’t move when she passed, she turned her head. Their gazes locked.

He knew the second she realized he was there. Her footsteps halted and her back stiffened. He knew she felt his presence, just as he felt hers. It was as if a silent alarm went off whenever they were near each other.

Roarke nodded a greeting, but she ignored him. He knew she would.

He waited until she ascended the stairs and Lady Strothum left the study, then he joined the others. Mack was there as well as Jack, and Lord Strothum.

“You have a fine family,” Mack was commenting when he entered.

“Yes, Lavinia and I are quite proud of them. And quite protective. Do you think they might be in danger?”

Mack looked at Jack and Hugh, all three hesitating to state the obvious.

Lord Strothum rose, then walked to the window. “I don’t know what my wife or I would do if something happened to any of them.”

Roarke took a chair near Lord Strothum. “Which is why we’re here,” he said.

The earl tried to look reassured. “Yes, of course.”

“Now,” Mack said. “I think it’s time you told us why those papers are so important that Jimmy Jamison was willing to die to get his hands on them.”

“Gentlemen, I’m sworn to secrecy. I’m afraid the information is safeguarded at the highest level of the government. I—”

He paused and looked at the grim faces of the men gathered in his library. He’d stalled from the beginning with the same old song, citing national security. Roarke willed him to change his mind and saw the very moment that resignation passed across the aristocrat’s eyes.

Lord Strothum took a deep breath, then nodded. “You know I am a member of a government committee that makes sure our troops are supplied with the most superior weapons available.” The brigadesmen nodded almost in unison. “There is a new invention that has shown remarkable benefits for our fighting men.” Strothum paused. He pulled at his chin, obviously stalling, debating whether to reveal more, then lowered his voice and continued. “Have you ever heard of a breech-loading weapon?”

Mack and Jack shook their heads.

“I’ve heard rumors about one,” Roarke said. “But nothing that’s been confirmed.”

Strothum returned to his chair. “I can confirm the rumors. The breech-loading rifle shows great promise, both in design and in testing.”

“What exactly is it?” Mack asked.

“It’s W. G. Armstrong’s brainchild, actually. A firearm in which the shell is loaded into the rear portion of the barrel.”

“Instead of the muzzle?” Jack asked.

Strothum nodded. “The benefits are substantial: loading time is much quicker, our soldiers can reload their weapons without exposing themselves as they are forced to do with front-loading weapons, and so on.”

“This is remarkable,” Mack said. “It could save thousands of lives.”

“Yes,” Strothum answered.

A frown deepened on Mack’s face. “Where is the design kept?”

“Armstrong, of course, has the original. It’s kept under lock and key in a safe place of which only he is aware.”

“And the others?”

“There is only one other. It is here.”

“Here?” Mack asked.

“Yes. The War Department thought it would be safe here. They didn’t think anyone would think to look in a private residence.”

“Obviously someone did,” Mack said.

“Either that,” Strothum answered, “or they are searching.”

“Have the homes of any other government committee members been broken into?” Jack asked.

“One other.”

Mack rose. “I see.” He paced the length of the room several times. “So we may assume that whoever intends to steal the design for the breech-loader hasn’t discovered where it’s being kept. That works in our favor…and against it.”

“How so?” Strothum asked.

“In our favor because they haven’t yet gained possession of the design. Against, because now they undoubtedly realize we suspect their intent and will take more drastic steps to get what they want.”

“You mean they will—”

“I’m just thinking aloud,” Mack said. “But it’s best that you stay on your guard, my lord, and report anything out of the ordinary.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Until then—”

Mack halted mid-sentence when the door opened.

Lord Strothum turned when his butler entered. “Yes, Rogers. What is it?”

“Mr. Livingston said he wanted to be informed if Miss Shaw left the house. The lady just took the children to the park for an afternoon excursion.”

“Thank you, Rogers,” Strothum acknowledged. “Has she already left?”

“Yes, sir. Not more than a minute ago.”

Roarke rose. “I’ll take care of this.”

Roarke didn’t wait for permission, but left the room and the house at a quick pace.

He thought of everything Strothum told them. He’d suspected there was something more to Jimmy Jamison’s death than the simple theft of the silver or rifling through the master’s desk in search of spare coin. Now he knew. But knowing what it was didn’t put his mind at ease. If anything, it intensified the situation. It also put Lord and Lady Strothum in greater danger, as well as their children.

Roarke looked ahead and spotted Millie Shaw escorting the three older children to the park. He scanned the area and breathed a sigh of relief when everything looked normal.

“Good afternoon, Miss Shaw,” he said when he drew alongside her.

She turned to face him. The disappointment on her face was transparent. “I thought you were otherwise occupied with Lord Strothum and your investigators.”

“So you thought it was safe to escape before I noticed you were gone?”

“I had hoped.”

“I’m sure you did.” Roarke turned to the boys. “Did you bring your ball?”

“Yes,” Henry answered.

Robbie skipped with excitement. “Miss Millie has it in her bag.”

When they reached a bench in the park, Miss Shaw sat. She opened her bag and took out the same ball they’d played with the day before. She tossed it to Henry.

“Would you like to play with us, Miss Millie?” Robbie asked.

“No, you go on. Lady Beth and I would like to sit here and admire the scenery while we do what ladies do best.”

“What’s that, Miss Millie?” Henry asked.

“Why, talk about the latest happenings.”

Henry looked at Millie with his head cocked in question. “Beth doesn’t know any happenings, Miss Millie.”

“You think not?” she answered.

“’Course not. She’s only four. She doesn’t know anything.”

Roarke raised his eyebrows as he waited to see how Millie was going to explain away that statement.

Millie helped Beth get situated on the bench beside her, then Millie clasped her hands in her lap as she took a deep breath while letting her gaze scan the area. “Well, Lady Beth. Isn’t this a splendid day?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Millie. Ever so splendid.”

“I hear that Cook has some gingerbread cookies with icing she intends to provide for our lunch when we return.”

“Really?” both Henry and Robbie said, stepping closer.

She looked at the boys. “It happens to be something I heard before we left. This is what happens when you take the time to discuss the things you’ve heard.”

Broad smiles lit their faces.

“What happening of consequence do you know of, Misstress Beth?” Millie asked.

“Well,” the four-year-old said, clasping her hands in her lap exactly as Millie had done. She thought for a moment, then said, “I know a secret.”

“A secret?” Millie asked. “How exciting.”

The boys turned to pay closer attention. Roarke did, too.

“What is your secret?”

“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s Annie’s.”

“The upstairs maid?”

“Yes. She lost her sweetheart and it makes her cry a lot.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. But maybe he’ll come back to her and she’ll be happy again.”

“Oh, he can’t come back. His name was Jimmy, and Annie said he went to Heaven and won’t ever come back.”

There was a slight pause because no one knew what to say. Then Robbie broke the silence.

“That’s where my Mama went, didn’t she, Miss Millie.”

Before Millie Shaw lowered her gaze to her lap, Roarke saw the flicker of sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, Robbie. That’s where your Mama went,” she whispered.

Roarke didn’t pay as much attention to Robbie when he mentioned his mother. He was more interested in the mention of the footman Jimmy. “Did Annie say anything else about her special friend Jimmy?” Roarke asked Beth.

“No. That’s all I heard her say. But she’s really sad.”

. . . . .

Millie sat with Beth on the bench and watched Roarke Livingston play catch with the boys. Her determination not to notice his physique was beginning to waver. She tried not to focus on how his shirt pulled across his broad shoulders when he threw the ball. But how could she help it? He was about as perfectly built as any man she’d ever seen.

He’d removed his jacket when play became serious and the boys threw one wild toss after another that he had to run after. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, exposing his sinewy forearms. Millie couldn’t help but wonder if his body beneath the shirt was as hard and muscled as the parts that were exposed.

She mentally chastised herself as soon as such an unsuitable thought entered her mind. How often did she have to remind herself of what he’d done? She only had to remember the nights she’d heard her sister cry herself to sleep because the man she loved had used her, then abandoned her. She only had to close her eyes and she could see Rosie’s pain-riddled face as she tried to give birth to the babe Roarke Livingston had planted in her body. She only had to look at Robbie and realize that Roarke Livingston was the reason he would grow up without a mother. Or a father.

If only Rosie hadn’t fallen in love with a man who was incapable of returning that love. If only Millie could have prevented her sister from making such a fatal mistake. And yet, she was in danger of making that same mistake.

She couldn’t let herself forget what he’d done. The lives he’d destroyed. No matter how charming he was, she couldn’t allow herself to be pulled into his trap. The results would be disastrous.

“Come, join us, Miss Millie,” Master Henry hollered from the open grassy area in front of her.

“Yes, please,” Roarke Livingston said from a spot near the trees. “These two have ganged up on me and are tiring me something fierce.”

The two boys laughed. “We’re getting better, aren’t we, Mr. Livingston?” Henry countered.