Chapter 2

Two

Lily and I arrived at Hatchards book shop at Number 187 Piccadilly in good time. I had my aunt's driver let us off just across the way and we crossed the street.

There were several people, mostly ladies and a handful of men, in a queue that reached from the shop out to the sidewalk.

And there in the window case my latest book was on display along with a placard that announced the reception for that afternoon.

"Did you read her last book?" a young woman who might have been near my own age commented.

"Absolutely wonderful! Her heroine, Emma Fortescue, is now investigating murder! And she is absolutely fearless! Now, there is a woman after my own heart!"

"Most interesting. The author is actually a noblewoman. I hear that she's gone off on those very same adventures…"

"I read in the dailies that she assisted in the solving of a murder with a private investigator…"

"I do hope that she will be here…"

There were several other comments, not all of them flattering.

"My sister sent me to purchase her latest book," a man then added. "I wouldn't be caught dead reading anything by a woman!"

"Your sister?" another young woman replied . "Of course, if it makes you happy to say that. However, most men might learn something about how to treat an independent woman by reading it!"

Lily looked up at me with a surprised expression. "Men read yer books as well?"

I maneuvered our way past the line. "So it seems."

Of course I appreciated the accolades, along with the somewhat veiled criticism.

I had put a great deal of time and effort into each book, developing my heroine, Emma Fortescue, along the way. She was most amusing.

"Good heavens!" my sister had commented when she read my first book. "Did you really do all those things?"

As for our aunt . "I've always wanted to do that. Do you think I still have time at my age?"

My answer in both instances was— Yes, of course!

I made my way to the table at the back of the shop where several of my books awaited my signature.

My publisher, Mr. Warren, and the owner of the shop had agreed that a personal appearance along with signed copies of my book had a way of bringing people inside, rather than perusing the display at the window and then walking past. Something on the order of a curiosity.

The owner had also arranged to serve afternoon tea in the back of the shop in an area that had been created to resemble a parlor in a private residence.

Lily picked up one of my books. "You wrote this?" she exclaimed as she slowly read my name.

"I might be able to read it real soon. Her ladyship says that I'm verra quick with my lessons."

That could be most interesting, I thought, as Mr. Warren joined us.

I introduced Lily to him.

"Ye're the one Miss Lenore is keeping company with," she replied.

I did hope she hadn't just insulted Mr. Warren. He looked over at me with some amusement.

"I suppose the answer would be yes," he replied.

Lily, smart as a whip, quickly came to both our rescue.

"That's it," she explained. "She said as how you was a right smart-lookin' sort."

Of course that was in comparison with some of the customers Lily might have encountered at the brothel in Edinburgh. Never let it be said that she didn't say exactly what she was thinking.

My aunt was working on her social skills as well as her education, however Lily's lapse in manners was a word of warning to me. Although I found her blunt honesty somewhat reminiscent of my own outspokenness.

I gave Mr. Warren a sympathetic smile. "Lily has recently come to London and is presently staying with my aunt. Lenore is assisting with art lessons."

"I do believe she mentioned something about that," he commented. "Most admirable of yourself and Lady Montgomery. Perhaps a subject for a future book?" he suggested.

I could only imagine what that might include.

"We are to attend a gallery showing this evening. Two of your sister's paintings will be on display," he continued. "I'm quite excited for her. Did she pass along any note, perhaps?"

She hadn't. But then she had been fully involved with the recital and then the aftermath of Lily's unexpected performance.

"She's waited for this for a long time," I replied and assured him. "I'm so very glad that you support her in this."

"Of course!" he enthusiastically replied. "And she is so very talented. Artistic talent seems to run in the family."

I did like Mr. Warren very much and hoped that my sister didn't send him off as she had other men following the demise of her marriage. And that was the only word for it— demise, as in death!

"Come along then," he said, taking our coats. "You have the table, just there. I've had a pen set out so that you may sign the books along with any comment you wish to add. We have found that readers do like the personal touch, as if they are part of… your adventures.

"If you are asked when your next book will be available," he continued, "we have scheduled it for May of the coming year. And of course, they may also purchase previous books and follow Miss Emma Fortescue's other adventures."

I thanked him for meeting me at the shop. I was aware that not all publishers made that gesture. Certainly not my first publisher, who had called my first two books, "Outlandish accounts of a wayward young woman."

I learned they had been published as a "favor" to my aunt. I had then met Mr. Warren, who was very near Brodie's age and without the usual bias against books written by a woman. Most particularly adventure books about a young woman who "flaunted the usual conventions of society," as one critic— obviously a man— had commented in the dailies.

Mr. Warren had embraced the books and Emma Fortescue as a well-educated, modern young woman, and those who read them as, "quenching a thirst for departure from the same roles of their mothers before them, before they were allowed to wear split walking skirts, ride bicycles, and partake in sports."

My books had become surprisingly successful. They were read wrapped inside the daily newspaper, discussed at ladies' club meetings, and had resulted in an invitation for me to speak to the Ladies Auxiliary League regarding women's rights.

I had declined at the time, as I was quite involved in solving a murder case with Brodie. And there was that other part of my response that I hadn't mentioned. I preferred the anonymity of the pen name that allowed me to come and go about as needed in my work with Brodie.

It was Brodie, quite surprisingly, who suggested that I accept Mr. Warren's proposal for readers to meet with the author— namely myself. In addition, he had been most encouraging of the time I was spending on the next book— during a time that he was increasingly well occupied at the Agency.

I frowned. It seemed he was far too occupied with the Agency of late, particularly since our return from Scotland. And he had been quite secretive about it.

"I'm very excited for this latest book," Mr. Warren now commented. "I do believe people, including men, will find it exciting." He nodded toward the line of patrons that did indeed contain at least two men.

I had taken a chair at the table while Lily had taken herself off to explore the bookstore.

"Imagine people writing all these books," she had exclaimed. "And people actually read them!"

"Good heavens, but she is refreshing," Mr. Warren commented with genuine enthusiasm. "Perhaps a companion for Miss Emma Fortescue's future adventures?"

"Good heavens" might be polite understatement, I thought, as I watched her pull a book from a nearby shelf, her nose wrinkling as she attempted to read it.

I smiled as I recognized that particular book by Jane Austen. A good place to start, I thought, then move on to Emma Fortescue.

"The manager of the shop has more than enough copies of your book," Mr. Warren was saying, "and the earlier ones as well for new readers." Then he added, "Thank you for agreeing to be here. I do believe that it will be most exciting for your readers."

He turned to leave, with a smile for those waiting. "Thank you again, Emma Fortescue, " he said in parting.

I had no idea how many people, if any, might attend the afternoon tea and book signing event and had braced myself for those who might make disparaging comments. I had encountered those before. Mr. Warren had cautioned that the books came with a certain notoriety , as he put it.

I hadn't written that first book, the second one, or even the more recent ones with that in mind. I had simply written them about a young Englishwoman's adventures as she traveled to foreign places.

The notoriety they created had come later as women, according to my sister, could be found secretly reading them. My friend, Templeton, somewhat notorious herself, would love that.

Breaking down barriers, Mr. Warren had called it, often put those breaking them on the firing line, so to speak. There were always those who were critical simply to be critical, or those who were either frightened or resistant to change.

Onward, I thought as the first of the shop's customers stepped up to the table. A woman, very near my aunt's age. She smiled sweetly.

"I've read all your Emma books," she said with a giggle. She handed me the latest one to sign the inside page.

"I've heard that she resembles yourself perhaps?"

"Perhaps," I replied.

"How I would have loved to do as she has," she said as I finished signing. "I suppose that I'm too old now."

"I know someone very near eighty-five years old," I confided. "She is planning on going on safari to Africa."

"Oh, how wonderful," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Or possibly the Greek Islands?" she suggested.

"The water is incredible," I replied as I handed the book back to her.

"Greek Islands?" Lily asked as she returned from her wanderings about the shop. "I've heard of them from one of the ladies in Edinburgh. She said that's where men keep company with men." She wrinkled her nose in that way I was quickly beginning to realize accompanied something she either didn't understand or didn't like.

"Well, not according to my own experience," I replied.

"What about Mr. Brodie?" she asked as I took the book from the next lady and opened it to sign.

Oh, yes. What about Mr. Brodie?

"That was before I knew him," I explained.

The nose wrinkle was still there. "I canna imagine he would approve of that."

I didn't bother to explain the rest of it, that he had in fact been there although it wasn't something I had remembered at the time. There was a great deal of ouzo involved. When in Greece…

Brodie had been quite assertive when it came to finding, then retrieving, a young woman whose aunt had sent him to find her after receiving several communications from other travelers about her behavior. But that was also a conversation for another day.

Tea was served for those who wished to stay at the shop for a while and explore other books available. It was a mix of young women, very near my own age when I first began my adventures, some older women such as the woman who was concerned about her age and the possibility of her own adventures.

An older man, quite scholarly, approached the table. A student had suggested my books as opposed to the "boring" texts that were required reading in his class.

"Not precisely on the same level with Greek or Roman studies of my students," he quipped. He clearly considered my books beneath him.

"Have you read one of my other books?" I asked, quite curious at his statement.

"Not as yet," he admitted.

"Ah," I replied, then added in Latin, " non potest iudicare quod quis non legit ." One cannot judge what one has not read . Admittedly, I was not familiar with the Greek version of that particular bit of wisdom.

"Quite so," he replied with more than a little surprise as I handed the book back to him.

"I look forward to reading it," he admitted with a bit of bemused curiosity.

"I look forward to your reading it," I replied.

Another man who had been waiting in line, looked very much like a bookkeeper or possibly a librarian, somewhat nervous I thought, surrounded by several women. He shifted the glasses he wore and smiled hesitantly.

"This is for my wife," he explained, pushing the glasses back up his nose again. "She has read your other books."

I asked her name, then signed the book. "For Jane, thank you. Emma Fortescue."

I had long adopted the habit of signing as my other self. It avoided confusion, even though there were those who knew that Emma Fortescue was purely a fictionalized person.

I shared tea and biscuits with Lily and customers who lingered. I answered questions and shared small bits of other adventures with them, as the manager of Hatchards brought out more books for people to purchase.

"Miss Emma Fortescue, I presume?"

The voice was articulate, educated in that way of those who attended Harrow or Eton, but with a faint shadow of some other accent, possibly from having traveled abroad. It had a way of slipping into one's speech after a time.

"Or should I say, Lady Forsythe?"

There was recognition on the gentleman's part. Mine came somewhat more slowly.

"I realize that it has been some time," he added. "Cairo and the pyramids beyond for several weeks," he said then as I hesitated.

"Admittedly, I am a bit older now," he continued. "However are you unchanged? And, obviously quite successful," he added with a glance about the crowded shop.

"And, if I may say so, quite extraordinary as well. You were never shy, as I remember. A young woman traveling alone cannot be that. But you have changed in the intervening time." He reached out and took my hand.

"And most excellently, I must say."

"Sir James Redstone," I replied, as the memory came back.

"It has been almost eight years since Egypt," he admitted. "And as I recall, your first adventure abroad."

"I believe it was almost ten years ago," I replied.

He smiled then, "However, a pleasure to see you again. I have only just returned from abroad and learned of this event." He glanced about the shop.

"You seem to have done quite well for yourself," he complimented. "Your second novel?"

"It's her sixth novel," Lily boldly corrected him.

"And who might this young lady be?" he asked with what appeared to be amusement.

Not to be set aside, Lily replied, "Miss Mikaela and Mr. Brodie's ward."

Admittedly her manners needed to be polished, however there was a noticeable sharpness in her answer. I introduced her to Sir James.

"That must have been a bad injury," she added looking at his other hand.

I had noticed the absence of his ring finger and the smaller one next to it, a new injury obviously more recent since our last acquaintance.

"Must make it difficult to lift a pint."

For the sake of propriety and to avoid any further comments, I suggested that she find Mr. Warren and inquire about additional books that he had mentioned.

There was definitely a mischievous glint in those blue eyes.

"Of course, miss."

"Your ward?" he replied.

Again that faint curiosity was there. I wasn't at all certain whether it was for Lily's impudence, or the fact that I was now in charge of a young person very near the age when Sir James and I first met.

"We're assisting her with her education, and…"

"Manners?" he suggested.

"She can be rather outspoken," I admitted. "My apologies."

"Most charming, and nothing to apologize for, Mikaela."

Charming was not a word I would have used.

"You have recently returned from your latest travels," I maneuvered the conversation in another direction.

"Yes," he replied. "I have just returned from Alexandria. Fascinating place, Egypt, I am certain you well remember."

The conversation continued in that direction, recalling some of the places we had both visited on that journey that had been quite eye-opening for myself, having never before ventured farther than Paris or my aunt's estate in the south of France.

I remembered our first encounter and the fact that I had been quite taken with Sir James and his vast knowledge of some of the places we visited on my first adventure.

He seemed much the same now, aristocratic bearing, quite tall, with perfectly groomed dark brown hair. That blue gaze that I had once found to be quite mesmerizing, with lean, handsome features seemed hardly changed.

"You would be quite interested in the recent antiquities that were brought out of Luxor," he was saying now. "I also had the opportunity to spend time at the Temple of Edfu. Most fascinating. Of course, there are many travelers that visit now."

I remembered that trip down the Nile, recommended to me by a friend of my aunt, Amelia Edwards, who had first whetted my appetite for adventure. A noted journalist and adventurer, herself, she had recently returned from what she called her last visit to that ancient land.

She was very near my aunt's age, but time and those countless foreign explorations had taken a toll. However, even with white in her hair, there was still that glint of curiosity in her eyes.

"It's the misery in my knees," she had explained on that last visit I had made . "I fear that I have ventured through the pyramids and tombs for the last time." She winked at me then. "Now it is time to write about my adventures ."

I noticed the glazed expression now in Lily's eyes. Boredom, I thought. Or possibly something else?

"And what of yourself?" Sir James then inquired. "Obviously you have found success with your novels… Five of them now, I stand corrected."

This was said with a glance at Lily, who looked at him with that same faintly bored expression. Definitely something else behind her dark blue gaze that usually had such a lively expression.

The shop manager approached to thank me for appearing that afternoon as the last of the customers departed and I realized it was very near the closing hour. He was greatly pleased with the number of book sales that afternoon.

"If you would be so kind, Miss Mikaela, I would very much like to host a similar event when your next book is published."

I thanked him as well and assured him that Mr. Warren would be in contact with him in that regard.

"Would you perhaps join me for late afternoon refreshment?" Sir James inquired. "And your ward as well, of course."

I caught the flare of some other emotion in Lily's gaze. However, whatever she might have said— not that she wasn't outspoken— instead, she let out an excited sound and headed for the entrance to the shop.

Brodie had returned. He smiled at Lily as she took hold of his arm and steered him in our direction. His dark gaze met mine.

I did appreciate that he had returned, even several hours late. I introduced him to Sir James.

"Mr. Brodie?" he commented. "The girl mentioned your name."

"They investigate crimes together," Lily provided.

"Crimes? Most interesting," Sir James replied. "What sort of crimes?"

"Mostly murder," Lily replied before either of us could respond. "Her real name is Mrs. Brodie," she added with a smile that was anything but innocent.

I really did need to have a conversation with her about polite manners.

"Formerly with the Metropolitan Police," Brodie intervened.

Sir James didn't extend his hand, but inclined his head in acknowledgement, then turned to me.

"You seem to have made several changes in the time since we traveled together," he commented with a different expression.

I wasn't certain whether it was merely surprise or something more as Sir James nodded in Brodie's direction.

"Mikaela and I shared two travel excursions in the past that I'm certain she must have told you about," Sir James said. "Egypt, then Vienna and Switzerland. She made it far more interesting than those I usually travel with.

"And how is Lady Montgomery?" he then added. "An extraordinary woman my family has known for many years."

Still extraordinary, I thought.

"Ye have just returned, Sir James?" Brodie inquired.

"It was time. I've been away too long. One begins to miss the damp and cold. You must agree, Mr. Brodie. I detect a faint accent. Scotland perhaps?"

There was that circumspect expression again. "Not for many years," Brodie replied. "However, there are places one may go as ye have no doubt experienced in yer travels. The Greek islands for example."

"Have you been there?" Sir James replied.

"I found it to be a welcome change from the cold and damp, as ye said. I was conducting… business there."

"Most satisfactorily, one would hope."

That dark gaze met mine. "Aye."

Polite conversation, with obvious undertones. How very interesting, I thought.

For his part, Brodie was courteous and not the least intimidated by someone of Sir James' station or experiences.

However, I couldn't help but notice that reserve that he kept for those he didn't know, while Sir James was gracious and polite.

As for Lily…

"Her ladyship will be expecting us," she abruptly announced.

"Of course," Sir James commented. "Forgive me for keeping you overlong. You must remember me to her. I will be certain to call on her."

He took my hand once more then with a slight bow of his head. "It has been a pleasure to see you again, Mikaela." His smile this time seemed almost intimate, then it was gone as he turned to Brodie.

"And to meet you as well, Mr. Brodie. Good day."

Lily pulled a face as he left the shop. So much for my aunt's best efforts.

"The weather has set in," Brodie commented after Sir James had disappeared across the street. He helped us both with our coats.

I thanked the shopkeeper once more for hosting the book signing as Brodie stepped out on the sidewalk to wave down a driver.

"Yer friend seems a commendable sort," he commented as we settled ourselves in the coach and Brodie gave him the address at Sussex Square.

Commendable? I wasn't at all certain what that was supposed to mean.

"He's a friend from my first travel experience. He's quite well educated and had traveled to Egypt several times," I explained at the same time I wondered the reason I needed to explain at all.

"He's most learned in Egyptology and it made the time there far more interesting and exciting, as well as his knowledge of the places that he recommended I should see that weren't on the travel guide's itinerary."

"Ah, a young woman on her own such as on the Isle of Crete on one of yer other adventures?" Brodie suggested.

Now, what was that all about? Was I perhaps seeing a bit of male jealousy?

That was not like Brodie at all.

"He didn't purchase one of yer books," Lily said with a frown.

"It may not be the sort of book he would prefer," I replied.

"Then wot reason was he there?"

"A friend stopping by to say hello," I explained.

"Friend," she commented. "That's wot Madame said of the men who called on the ladies at the Church."

"The Church" in Edinburgh being where I first met Lily, had been converted into a brothel.

Conversations with Lily could be most enlightening. It was a glimpse of what my aunt had encountered, taking on the raising of two young girls all those years before.

"And how was your day?" I asked Brodie, diverting the conversation away from past friends, brothels, and Lily's far too observant observations.

We were much closer to Mayfair where I kept my townhouse rather than return to Sussex Square which was some distance farther.

My housekeeper Mrs. Ryan met us at the entrance, along with the aroma of supper.

Brodie shook the rain from his long hat and long coat but didn't follow us inside.

"You're not staying?" I asked.

I had hoped that we might share the evening, perhaps discuss progress in a recent inquiry I had been asked to make on behalf of an acquaintance of my aunt, and then…?

It was one of those situations that still hadn't been resolved after our return from Scotland. I continued to maintain the townhouse and we still shared the office on the Strand. There was the recent addition of Lily to the family. She frequently stayed at Sussex Square. And the cases that he took on for the Agency often required him to be away for a day or more, depending on the nature of the case.

"I need to get back to the Agency," Brodie explained.

Long days had now extended into the evenings as well. I could only guess that it was a matter of grave importance. The Special Services Agency had been formed to deal with matters beyond the usual authority of the MP and more often international affairs.

"You might stay for supper," I suggested.

"I believe that must be Mrs. Ryan's Irish stew," he shook his head with regret. "But no, I must return."

"Something very important," I suggested. I didn't bother to disguise my disappointment.

There was no one I enjoyed discussing cases or the day's work with quite so much as Brodie. He had his own thoughts on matters from years of experience with the Met and wasn't hesitant to share, unlike other men of my acquaintance who believed a woman's thoughts were best left to family and household matters.

It was one of those things that we had shared from the beginning. And then there was that other part of our relationship.

"I thought perhaps…"

Never shy about expressing my own thoughts, I was suddenly distracted as he slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close.

"I would like nothing more than to stay here with ye, lass," he said, his breath gently stirring against my cheek. "But I must return. Sir Avery will be there as well, and others."

I closed my eyes and inhaled that wonderful scent about him that was always there.

"And afterward?" I asked.

His beard brushed my cheek. "It will be verra late."

"Of course," I replied.

"Ye'll be careful with the inquiries on behalf of the new client," he added then. "If her husband has been keeping other company, he would not want it known."

"Careful as mice." When he frowned at me, I added, "I'll take Rupert with me."

I felt the faint rumble of laughter in his chest. "The smell of the damn beast would drive away anyone who might follow ye."

"He can be intimidating," I admitted.

He shook his head. "He likes ye like no other." Then looked at me with that dark gaze, his hand pressed against my cheek.

"Something we share," he added.

Considering the comparison, I wasn't at all certain that was a compliment.

He kissed me then. It was most definitely far different than a lick on the hand from the hound, and not at all the sort of thing that might be seen on the steps of one's residence in Mayfair. Or, quite possibly anywhere else.

"Go inside," he said then. "Before ye catch yer death from the cold."

And when I didn't immediately do as he asked, "What am I supposed to do with ye, when ye won't obey me?"

How amusing. He knew better.

"Ach! Ye are a stubborn one."

"And you as well, Mr. Brodie," I replied as I reached up and ran my fingers through the dark softness of his beard, then kissed him back, not at all the sort of thing a respectable lady in Mayfair would do. And I didn't give a fig if anyone saw us.

"Wot will Miss Lily have to say about yer wanton ways?" he whispered against my lips.

"Considering her previous place of residence and the profession practiced there, I have a feeling that I might learn a thing or two from her."

There was no dissuading him from returning to the Agency. That too was something I must admit that I very much admired about him— his dedication when something important needed his attention, in spite of the fact that I would much rather he stayed.

"I look forward to that," Brodie replied.

"You would do well to remember that when you have only Alex and Sir Avery for company."

He kissed me again then returned to the coach and gave the driver instructions.

I smiled, the taste of him still on my lips as the coach disappeared through the misty rain.

How was it that I missed him already?

I entered the townhouse, hung up my coat, and informed Mrs. Ryan that Brodie would not be joining us for supper.