Bedford Street Brigade 02 - Love Unbidden (3 page)

Nellie had helped Eileen pack all day so she and the boys were ready to leave first thing in the morning. It would be good for Eileen to get away from London. Good for her to spend time w
ith their mother and father. Good for her to be ignorant of the evidence piling up against Henry.

At least Quinn Walker would help them. It was a great relief to know that he would lead the investigation.

Nellie checked the street at the front of the house for the tenth time in the last hour. When Quinn had come earlier in the day, he said he’d stop by before he went home to make sure everything was all right. It was already past seven o’clock, and he wasn’t here yet. She couldn’t help but think that meant things hadn’t gone well.

She checked the window again and saw him, and ran to the front door to let him in.

“I know it’s late, but may I come in?”

“Of course.” Nellie closed the door behind Quinn, then took his hat and gloves. “Have you eaten?”

“No, but—”

“I saved a plate for you. It’s been near the oven so everything should still be warm. Come.”

Nellie led the way to the kitchen, then brought the plate she’d covered and saved for him. She placed it in front of him, then got two glasses of cool lemonade. She set one in front of him, then took the glass she’d poured for herself and sat across from him.

He placed a forkful of food into his mouth before he spoke. “Has your sister retired for the night?”

“She took the boys up a little while ago. She wanted them to have a good night’s rest for the trip tomorrow. And she seemed very tired. Today was a difficult day. We went to the prison to see Henry, but they wouldn’t let us talk to him.”

“I was afraid of that.” Quinn lifted his gaze and looked at her.
“What about you? How are you holding up?”

Nellie smiled. “I’m fine, thanks to you. I don’t know what we’d do if you hadn’t offered to help. Have you discovered anything yet?”

Quinn shook his head. “But it’s early. We’ve just begun.”

“Were you able to speak with Henry?”

“Quinn nodded.

“Was he of any help to you?”

“He doesn’t know anything.”

“And you believe him?”

Nellie waited while Quinn finished chewing the food he had in his mouth. When he was done, he looked up.

“Yes, I believe him. I don’t think your brother-in-law had anything to do with the money they found.”

Nellie couldn’t help it. The relief she felt was immense. She tried to smile, but her eyes filled with tears, and Quinn’s handsome face swam before her.

“Ah, lass.” He placed his hand over hers and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

“I know it will. It’s just that I’m so worried. I don’t know what Eileen will do if something happens to Henry. They love each other so much.”

“I know,” Quinn answered softly. “That’s all I heard when I
spoke with your brother-in-law. He wasn’t at all concerned about himself. He was only worried about your sister. How she was holding up, and if you were with her.”

“Did you tell him that Eileen was going to the country?”

Quinn nodded. “He was relieved that she was going to her mother and father’s. He said that being with family was the best place for her.”

Nellie nodded. She’d grown up with a large family and knew better than most how important family was. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

Quinn smiled and two deep creases formed on either side of his mouth. They made him look even more handsome, if that was possible.

“I have four sisters and five brothers. My mum said that she spent most of her life cooking and changing nappies. But, nothing makes her happier than having her family around her. Now, she sits in her rocker and dandles a grandbaby on each knee while her daughters and daughters-in-law do the cooking and dishes, and all the hard work she used to do.”

“What about your father?”

“He died a year ago. But he lived long enough to see his children grown, and meet at least a dozen of his grandchildren.”

“I’m glad,” Nellie whispered.

“So am I.” His look turned more serious as he studied her. “You obviously love children, so, why aren’t you married with a house full of your own?”

Nellie didn’t mind telling Quinn her story. It was common knowledge both here and at home. But she couldn’t bear to look at him when she told him. She didn’t want to take the chance she’d see pity in his eyes.

The room suddenly seemed too small. She rose from the table and walked to the back door. “Would you like to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful evening.”

“I’d love to,” he answered.

Quinn slid back from the table and followed her. They stopped when they reached a wooden bench beneath a giant oak tree in the center of
a small garden the neighbors shared. She sat, and he sat next to her.

“I was engaged to be married when I was seventeen. His name was Robbie. He and his father were blacksmiths in a nearby village. We planned to be married in the summer. A month before our wedding, a horse kicked him and threw him backward. He struck his head on the anvil. He died immediately.”

“Is that why you’re here with your sister?”

Nellie took a deep breath. “One of the disadvantages of a large, close family is that in times of tragedy, they have a tendency to smother one with love and concern.”

“So you left your family and came to live with your sister.”

“Actually, I left my family and came to London by myself.”

Quinn’s muscles clenched beside her, and Nellie felt his surprise.

“You came alone?” he asked. “That was extremely brave of you.”

“Actually, it didn’t take all that much courage. I knew where I was going, and what I was going to do. Daisy Fletcher’s brother was our vicar. He knew how desperate I was to escape, and wrote to his sister, asking her if she had a place for me in her bakery. She wrote back, saying she not only had a place for me in the bakery, but a room she’d rent me until I found a place of my own.”

Nellie rose from the bench and took a few steps away from where Quinn sat. Before she realized it, Quinn was at her side. He offered her his arm and they continued their walk.

“I lived above the bakery for several years, then Eileen came to work for Daisy, too. When she married Henry, I moved in with them, not only to help with expenses, but to help her with the babe she was expecting. I’ve been here ever since.”

They slowly made their way back to the house. Finally, Quinn
asked a question no one had ever asked her. A question she had never asked herself.

“Do you still love him?”

“Robbie?”

“Yes.”

She stopped. Did she love him? Had she ever loved him?

“I was only seventeen at the time. I’m not sure I even knew what love was.”

Nellie stopped and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m sure if we weren’t in love, we would have learned to love each other. Getting married and having a family was all I knew at the time. It was all I wanted. But that was more than ten years ago. I can’t even remember what he looked like any more.”

Quinn’s hands rested atop her shoulders and he turned her to face him.

She lifted her gaze and stared into his handsome face.

Before she could think of what she should do, his arms wrapped around her and he brought her close.

He was going to kiss her, and there was nothing she wanted more. Robbie had only kissed her twice, and both times were the attempts of an inexperienced suitor. Nellie knew when Quinn Walker kissed her, it would be different. And she wanted nothing more than to experience his kiss.

His lips touched hers and a riot of emotions exploded within her.

His lips were warm and solid on hers. His kiss gentle. But the strength of his touch enveloped her in a heat that sent flames of desire lapping at every part of her body. His mouth opened atop hers, encouraging her to meet his demands. She couldn’t deny him. She didn’t want to deny him. She was desperate to accept what he offered.

Passion as strong as any emotion she’d ever experienced consumed her and she was desperate to ride the waves of desire that carried her beyond all rational thought.

He kissed her again, and again, and she didn’t want him to stop. But he did. He slowly lifted his mouth from hers.

Thankfully, he didn’t release her, but held her securely in his arms. For the first time in her life, Nellie didn’t have the strength to rely on her own ability to remain upright.

And she knew what it felt like to come alive after a very long sleep.

. . .

It had been two days since he’d kissed her, and Quinn couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared. He was drawn to her like he’d never been drawn to a woman before. He wanted her more intensely than he’d ever wanted a woman, even though he told himself he couldn’t have her. Not as long as he was a Bedford investigator. It wasn’t fair to ask a woman to live with the risks he took.

Which was why instead of spending yesterday with her like he’d intended, he’d only stayed with her long enough to make sure her sister and children got off safely, then had made an excuse to leave and hadn’t returned the rest of the day.

He needed to solve this case quickly. He needed for things to return to the way they’d been before. He needed Nellie to go back to work at Daisy Fletcher’s bakery and for him to be able to see her each morning where there was a counter that separated them. Where they weren’t alone in the dark. Where she wouldn’t be the temptation to him she was in the moonlight.

Quinn made his way to Henry Dunston’s house to pick her up. She wanted to go back to work. She said she couldn’t sit around another day. That she needed to keep busy. He thought it was a good idea too. Too many idle hours only gave one time to imagine the worst that could happen.

Quinn raised his hand to knock on the door, but on the first rap, the door swung open. A wave of concern washed over him.

“Nellie,” he called as he entered the entryway. No one answered. “Nellie!”

Quinn walked through the house at a steady, yet rapid pace. He reminded himself to remain calm. He raced to the kitchen, knowing if she were up, this is where she would be. But the kitchen was empty. There was no sign of coffee brewing, or a fire laid in the grate. There were no signs that anyone was up.

Quinn raced back through the house, this time looking into each room as he passed them. His heart leaped to his throat and began a steady thudding inside his chest. Every room had been
ransacked. Drawers were open and empty. Furniture upturned. Shelves cleared. Someone had been here, but Quinn didn’t stop to evaluate what might have been taken, or destroyed. He was too concerned about Nellie.

“Nellie!”

He raced up the stairs, opening the door to each room on the second level. He found every room torn apart.

“Nellie!”

He was running out of rooms to search. Only two more at the end of the hallway. He opened the next one and nearly missed her. If it hadn’t been for one small bare foot sticking out from beneath the bed he wouldn’t have seen her.

“Nellie!”

Quinn ran to her and gently pulled her from beneath the bed. Her bedclothes were twisted around her body. There were horrid bruises on her cheeks and jaw, and a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

He let his fingers skim over her arms and legs, then moved to her ribs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but he couldn’t be sure. Finally, he cupped his palm around the back of her head. His hand came away sticky and wet. There was a large lump on the back of her head where she’d either been hit, fallen and hit something, or had been pushed into the wall or bedpost hard enough to render her unconscious.

Quinn scooped her into his arms and lifted her to the bed. “Nellie, can you hear me?”

She didn’t answer, but he hadn’t expected her to.

He soaked a cloth in a nearby basin of water and placed it on her cheek. With each dab of the cloth, he swore that he’d find the man responsible for this.

And kill him.

Quinn took the stairs two at a time and ran to the Dunston study. He found a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled a note to Mack, asking him to come as quickly as he could. He also asked him to bring Cora with him.

When he had his message penned, he ran to the house next door to ask if there was anyone there who could deliver a message. Luckily, there was a lad of about thirteen who guaranteed him he knew where Bedford Street was, and who promised to deliver the message to the man who lived there. After he handed the boy a coin, he raced back to the house to put water on to heat, then went back upstairs to be with Nellie.

She wasn’t awake yet, but she didn’t seem as deathly pale as she’d been earlier. Quinn hoped that was the case and not merely something he imagined because he wanted it so badly to be
true. He rinsed the cloth again and placed it on her cheek.

“Nellie, can you hear me?” Quinn reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. She returned the pressure.

“Nellie?”

She moaned, then her eyelids fluttered. “Quinn?”

“Yes, I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

Several large tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and dripped onto the pillow beneath her. “Hold me. Please, hold me.”

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and brought Nellie close to him. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

She pressed her cheek against his chest and he gathered her closer.

“Some men broke into the house,” she started to explain.

“Shh. I sent Mack a message. He should be here any moment. Wait until he arrives so you only have to tell your story once.”

Quinn held Nellie until there was a knock on the door, then he lowered Nellie to the pillow and ran down the stairs. He opened the door and let Mack and Cora in.

Mack walked to one of the rooms the intruders had searched and
stood in the doorway.

“They’re all like that,” Quinn said.

“My guess is that they were after something in particular. Do you know what that is?”

Quinn shook his head. “Nellie’s upstairs. She just regained consciousness. I haven’t questioned her yet. I thought I’d wait until you got here.”

Cora placed her hand on Quinn’s arm. “Was she hurt? Do we need to send for a doctor?”

“I don’t think so.” Quinn raked his fingers through his hair.

“Take me to her,” Cora said. “It’s not good for her to be alone.”

Quinn led the way up the stairs, then down the hall until they reached Nellie’s door.

When Cora entered the room, she walked directly to the bed and took Nellie’s hand.

Quinn came up behind Cora. “Nellie, your angel of mercy is Cora Wallace. And this fortunate man is her husband, Mack. Mack and Cora, allow me to present Nellie
Sutton.”

“How are you?” Cora asked, taking a cloth from the stand and rinsing it in water. “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” she said, placing the cloth on her cuts and bruises.

Nellie winced when Cora touched her and Quinn experienced an intense stabbing of protection.

When Cora finished, Mack stepped closer to the bed. “Do you feel well enough to tell us what happened, Miss
Sutton?”

Nellie nodded, then looked at Quinn. “Would you help me sit?”

Quinn raised her in the bed and Cora placed several pillows behind her.

“I heard glass break in the middle of the night and knew someone had entered the house. I tried to hide but they found me.”

Quinn sat beside Nellie and reached for her hand. “How many men were there?”

“Two, for sure.”

“Do you know what they wanted?”

“They were after a ledger.”

Quinn exchanged looks with Mack. “A ledger?”

“They said they wanted the ledger Henry took.”

Quinn leaned forward. “Do you know what they were talking about?”

Nellie shook her head, then winced.

“Try not to move, dear,” Cora warned.

“I don’t know anything about a ledger. I told them that, but they
didn’t believe me.”

“Why would they think you knew anything about the ledger?”

“I think they thought I was Henry’s wife. They called me Mrs. Dunston.”

“Can you tell us anything about the men who broke in?” Mack asked.

“Not much,” Nellie answered. “It was dark and I couldn’t see them clearly. One of them was about your size,” she said. “The other was smaller. He was the one who hit me when I told them I didn’t know anything about a ledger.”

Nellie seemed more fragile than before, and Quinn fought the urge to gather her in his arms and hold her.

“Is there anything else you can remember, Miss Sutton?” Mack asked.

Nellie paused a moment, then shook her head. “That’s all. The smaller man hit me again, and I don’t remember anything after that.”

“That’s all right.” Quinn reached out and touched her cheek. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“Have I? I don’t feel as if I have.”

“Well, whether you feel as if you were or not, you were. Now, rest.”

“Yes,” Mack said. “Get some rest. Cora will stay here with you, and someone will be downstairs to guard the house.”

Her gaze shifted to Quinn’s and held it. “Will you be here?”

“I have a couple of matters to attend to, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t worry
, though. Jack will be here, and whoever else Mack can spare.”

“And I’ll be here, too,” Cora said. “And as long as I’m here, I can guarantee you that my husband will be close by. Now, close your eyes for a few moments. I’m going to fetch us a cup of tea. I’m sure we could both use some.”

Quinn waited behind until Mack and Cora left the room, then gave Nellie’s hands a gentle squeeze. “You were very brave, lass, but you’re safe now.”

Tears filled Nellie’s eyes and she swallowed several times.

Quinn wished there was something he could do to erase the fear he knew she felt, but there wasn’t. Only time would make what had happened less real. Less terrifying. “Rest now. I’ll be back later.”

Quinn placed his palm against her cheek, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“Always.”

Quinn kissed her a second time, then left her room. He found Mack and Cora in the kitchen. Cora was brewing tea from the water he’d placed near the fire earlier. She had found the pastries Daisy had sent over yesterday and was making a tray to take to Nellie.

Cora pushed a cup of tea in front of him. ” “Here, you look like you need this.”

Quinn reached for the cup. “I feel like I need something stronger, but this will do for now.”

Cora placed the second cup of tea in front of Mack. “I have water heating for a bath,” Cora said. “I’m sure Nellie will sleep better after she’s bathed. Would one of you gentlemen bring it up in a bit?”

“Of course,” Quinn answered.

Cora picked up the tea tray and carried it out of the kitchen.

When they were alone, Mack turned to him. “Do you have any idea what this is all about?”

Quinn shook his head. “I assume it has something to do with Dunston’s work at Paxton Import.”

“Is it possible Dunston hasn’t been completely honest with you?”

“I didn’t think so, but perhaps I’d best pay him another visit.”

Mack took a drink of his tea, then set his cup back in the saucer. “I left word for Jack to meet me here when he arrives. Why don’t you pay Mr. Dunston another visit and I’ll stay here until Jack gets here.”

“Will Cora stay until I get back?”

Mack nodded. “I doubt I could force her to leave.”

Quinn smiled, then drained the last of his tea before he rose. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

Mack gave him a sharp nod, then Quinn gathered his hat and left the house.

As he walked to the police building, he mentally listed every bit of information he had. Unfortunately, everything pointed to Dunston’s guilt. And what was this about a ledger?

Quinn paused at the corner to let a carriage go by, and when he lifted his gaze, he realized he was in front of a local bank. As often happened, the unexpected image before him triggered a thought. If Dunston wanted to hide any money, there wasn’t a better place than in a bank.

Quinn crossed the street, and entered the bank. A gentleman in a black suit and white cravat met him. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I’d like to speak with the chairman of the bank.”

“That would be Mr. Cromewell. May I ask who wants to see him?”

“Quinn Walker of the Bedford Street Brigade.”

The bank employee’s brows lifted and he issued Quinn a sharp nod.
“Let me see if he’s available.”

The bank employee returned a few minutes later. “If you’ll follow me, sir.”

Quinn followed the man to the back of the bank and waited until there was an answer to the employee’s knock.

“Mr. Walker,” the employee announced, then closed the door and left him with Mr. Cromewell.

“Come in, Mr. Walker. Sit down.”

Quinn entered, and sat in the chair the bank chairman indicated.

“Tea? Or something stronger?”

Quinn shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Well, then, what can I do for you?”

“I’m investigating the theft of some funds from Paxton Import and Export. The accused thief is Mr. Henry Dunston. I was wondering if Mr. Dunston is a patron of your bank. And if he is, how much money is in his account.”

“Do you represent Mr. Dunston, sir, or Paxton Import?”

“I represent Mr. Dunston, and if you require permission from Mr. Dunston, I can get it. I thought to speed things up by asking for your cooperation.”

Cromewell thought for a moment, then said, “Under ordinary circumstances I wouldn’t do this, but the reputation of the Bedford Street Brigade is above reproach.” Cromewell rose from his desk. “Let me get the information you need.”

The bank chairman left, and returned a few moments later with a large ledger. He opened it on his desk and scanned down the lines of the first page, then the second. He stopped in the middle of the third page. “Here it is.”

Quinn walked around the desk and looked at the line where Cromewell held his finger.

“It seems Mr. Dunston made a rather large deposit of one thousand pounds a week ago today.”

The muscles in Quinn’s stomach tightened. “Does it say who assisted Mr. Dunston when he came in?”

“Yes, the initials are PB. That would be Paul Bentley. Would you like to
speak with him?”

“Yes, if I may.”

Cromewell left the room again and returned with another employee. “Mr. Bentley, this is Investigator Walker with the Bedford Street Brigade. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Certainly, sir. Is there something wrong?”

“No, Mr. Bentley,” Quinn said, trying to put the man at ease. The look of panic on his face was plain to see. “I’m just looking into a matter on behalf of a client of mine.”

“Of course,” the clerk said. “What matter is that?”

“This deposit of one thousand pounds to Mr. Henry Dunston. It happened one week ago.”

Bentley looked at the information in the ledger. “Ah, yes. I remember the transaction. It was a cash deposit into a separate account.”

“The account wasn’t an existing account?” Mr. Cromewell asked.

“No. The gentleman didn’t want it put into his existing account. I remember we had to open a new account for that amount.”

“Did Mr. Dunston open the account himself?” Quinn asked.

“I couldn’t say. I’
d never met Mr. Dunston prior to this. I assumed it was. That’s how he signed the papers.”

“Would you happen to have those papers?”

“Why yes. Of course. They would be in his file.”

“Bring the file, Bentley,” Mr. Cromewell ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Bentley answered, then he left the room.

“Do you suspect foul play here, Mr. Walker?”

“That remains to be seen,” Quinn said, but he certainly hoped so. If this was on the level, Henry Dunston didn’t stand a chance in hell of proving his innocence.

Before long, Mr. Bentley returned with Dunston’s file. It wasn’t a thick file, since it didn’t contain many transactions. He placed the file on Mr. Cromewell’s desk and opened it. The top copy was the most recent, and Bentley handed it to Mr. Cromewell who glanced at it, then handed it to Quinn.

Bentley thumbed through the other papers and handed another sheet to Cromewell. “This is Mr. Dunston’s signature from a year ago.” He handed Quinn the second sheet.

Quinn’s heart pounded as he compared the two documents.

“The two signatures appear remarkably similar, Mr. Walker,” Cromewell said.

“Yes, they do,” Quinn answered. “Whoever forged the second document did a damn good job.”