Chapter Nine

Bright frowned as he handed his new wife into the carriage. A desultory rain was falling, and it was a bit chilly coupled with the autumnal breeze, but what he was more concerned about was Mary. Throughout tea, she was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn.

Shortly before he joined her, he gave Bob the address for her former sister-in-law, then he planted himself on the bench beside her as the driver put up the steps and closed the door.

"Tell me what's bothering you, sweeting. I know it's something because you usually enjoy the tea house." It made him sad that she couldn't glean happiness over their new union because of worries over the dead woman.

"It is nothing. I merely need to work through it myself." She turned her head to the window as the carriage rocked when Bob climbed back up into the box.

"But you needn't for we are married. What bothers you, bothers me, and I want to help if I can." When she didn't answer, he tamped down on the urge to sigh. "Please know that I do not hold the current unfortunate circumstances against you, but the sooner we can solve the case, the sooner we can have time to enjoy our new marriage."

Was that even something she wanted? Why else would she have asked him if they'd made a mistake?

"While that sounds wonderful, I am having trouble believing you." She turned her head and looked at him with such sorrow in the blue pools of her eyes that he truly thought he might drown in them. "Why can't my past stay buried? Why can't I move into my future without always having a shadow?"

While he understood her worries—for he'd gone through them himself over the years—he knew nothing he could say would help her until she was ready to just forget and leave it all behind. "Your husband's mistress is dead. That won't change. Best square with it." He didn't mean it to sound harsh, but she had to know none of this was her fault.

"I know that." Annoyance threaded through her voice. "But we must go see my sister-in-law. What if she's part of whatever this is?"

"Then we will find that out in due course." There were times when he rather thought women should be handled with a gentle touch, not because they were fragile like glass but because they were as delicate as a loaded cannon.

She huffed. "What if she tells you terrible things about me?"

"Aw, sweeting." Gabriel shrugged. "Then she will; you nor I have control over other people's opinions, but none of that defines us." He put a curled index finger beneath her chin and raised her head until their gazes connected. "I know you. Nothing anyone says will change my mind or my feelings. I know you and I love you , so much so that I married you, even after you knew of my horrid luck with that in the past." His grin felt all too wry. "It was terrifying, but I did it, because of you."

The shadows in her eyes told him she wasn't convinced. "Flattery again. You must admit, knowing the woman you just married is embroiled in your most recent case isn't the best endorsement for your reputation."

"You let me worry about that, but every word I spoke is the truth." When her bottom lip trembled, he brushed the pad of his gloved thumb along that plump piece of flesh. "We have always worked as a team, you and me, and it is no less true now, hmm? Whatever is out there waiting, whatever horrid thing we discover, we will go through the aftermath together, and none of it will change how I feel about you. "

For long moments, she held his gaze as emotions flitted through her eyes, difficult to read in the gloom made from the rain. Finally, she offered him a tentative smile, and his world tilted sideways. "How is it that you always know just what to say in order to cheer me up?"

"We're well matched. Did you expect anything less?" Before she could respond, he claimed her lips in a gentle kiss.

Mary made a soft sound of surrender at the back of her throat. She turned more fully into him, slipped a hand up his chest to rest at his nape, and then she kissed him back with her customary enthusiasm, and that need fired his own.

Unfortunately, the ride from the Covent Garden area to Berkeley Square in Mayfair was accomplished in a shorter time than he'd anticipated, for he'd only just settled his wife into his lap and had been preparing to tug down the bodice of her dress.

Bob rapped on the roof. "Arriving, Inspector."

"Damn and blast," Gabriel whispered as he peered into Mary's eyes. Her kiss-swollen lips curved into an amused smile. "We haven't had much luck when it comes to being alone."

"No, we haven't, but I'm certain you will rectify that soon enough." She rested a gloved hand against his cheek. "And we will definitely revisit this later."

"Agreed." With a hefty portion of remorse, he encouraged her off his lap, and by the time Bob opened the carriage door and put down the steps, she sat calmly composed next to him on the bench, looking for all the world as if nothing had happened… or had almost happened.

For himself, Gabriel was quite thankful for the greatcoat that hid his rampant cockstand. There was something about Mary that made him come undone with need in very little time, but they had a job to do. Personal pleasure and fulfillment would need to wait.

Again.

As they stood in front of an unassuming townhouse, he offered his crooked arm to her. "We can't loiter out here. Sooner or later, a constable will come ‘round, and it's raining besides."

"I know." A sigh escaped her as she slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow. "Best get it over with, but I haven't seen this woman for at least five years. Since the graveside service for her bounder of a brother."

"It will be over quickly." Then he proceeded up the short walkway to the red-painted door.

Their knock was answered quickly enough by a butler of indeterminate years, who led them into a rather quaint parlor decorated in shades of ivory and light green .

Anxiety fairly radiated off his wife as she sat beside him, but before he could say anything or even give her a supportive touch, a woman entered the room who was probably in her early forties, perhaps near his own age.

"Inspector Bright?" Her voice was well modulated, which meant she must have learned that touch of culture from whomever she'd married. According to Mary, the woman's brother had been a bit uncouth even if he had been part of the merchant class.

"Yes." Springing to his feet, Gabriel cleared his throat. "You have the advantage of me, I'm afraid, for I don't know your name." Mary hadn't been forthcoming regarding that information.

"She is Lady Donovan," Mary said before the other woman could answer. "Beatrice married a third son of an earl, and as is his right, he chose a courtesy title."

The woman glanced at her with a frown that quickly vanished behind genuine surprise when recognition was realized. "Mary? My goodness, it's been an age since I saw you last. You look lovely and so happy."

As Gabriel watched, his wife gave the other woman a smile that could burn away the rain's gloom, and his chest tightened. He was so proud of her. "She is my wife."

Mary nodded and then transferred her smile to him. Love light was noticeable in her eyes. "It is quite a long story, and I was just married this morning, in fact."

"Then, why the devil—pardon the language—are you here?" Lady Donovan demanded with shock stamped on her face. She waved them both onto the sofa while she dropped into a matching chair. "You should be headed out on your wedding trip."

Heat sneaked up the back of Gabriel's neck. "Uh, we unexpectedly stumbled upon a murder investigation that has prevented us from making further nuptial plans."

"I'm sorry, but what does any of that have to do with me?" She bounced her gaze between them. "I don't keep company with criminals."

"Yes, well, it isn't as simple as that." As he tugged his notebook and pencil from a pocket in his greatcoat, he sighed. "Last night while attending the opera, we came upon the dead body of one Miss Theresa Kessler, who was apparently your brother's mistress at one time."

"What?" The lady's eyes rounded. "Theresa is dead?"

"Most definitely," Gabriel said, and made a note that not only did Lady Donovan not know of the fact but she was also real in her shock. "She was stabbed through the heart at the Royal Opera House with a letter opener. "

"Good heavens." Lady Donovan put a hand to her throat. "The last time I saw Theresa was at least three months ago."

"Why, though?" Mary wanted to know. "Your address had been scrawled on a scrap of paper we found in her reticule. Were you and she friends after Ben's death?"

"Not exactly."

One of Mary's eyebrows rose. "What does that mean?"

"I always knew this would come back to haunt me," Lady Donovan muttered with the shake of her head.

"Oh, I completely understand that sentiment," Mary said with sympathy in her tone.

"I am a friend of Lord Carmichael. He was her former protector. They stopped seeing each other a couple of months ago."

It was Gabriel's turn to ask a question. "Why? We had heard they'd fought."

"Oh, they did."

"About?"

Lady Donovan huffed out a breath. "He was outraged that she'd decided on a different path than being mistress to various titled men throughout London."

He frowned. "What had she planned to do, then? Become an actress?" It would make sense, for if she frequented the theater, it might have been for that.

"Oh, I rather doubt that. Miss Kessler wasn't that convincing as an actress, and for a woman of her ilk, she was a horrid liar." The lady bounced her gaze between them. "A few months ago, a man approached her at the theater—she had many friends and acquaintances there who let her borrow gowns, accessories, wigs, and even stage makeup—who found her attractive."

Mary played with the strings of her reticule. "Did she become his mistress?"

"Not that I know of, but he wished to recruit her."

"For?" Knots of unease pulled in his gut. This couldn't be good.

With a quick glance to the open door, Lady Donovan lowered her voice. "To work at a secret pleasure spa in Brighton as essentially a highly paid courtesan. According to Lord Carmichael, the spa opened two months ago and took some of the top… talent in… the sexual arts from London."

Good God. Did depravity know no bounds? "When did Miss Kessler start there?"

"Nearly five weeks ago, as soon as the midwife gave authorization for her to resume… her usual activities."

"Why her, though?" Annoyance filled Mary's voice. "Was she that skilled in the bedroom arts? Wouldn't a woman like that go after better men than my first husband? "

Before the conversation could grow heated, Gabriel briefly touched Mary's hand in silent support. "There is every possibility her, uh, skills grew as the years went by as evidenced by her landing Lord Carmichael." He cleared his throat. "It might be why she borrowed wigs from her actor and actress friends, especially if she were made to audition for various, er, parts." Truly, he had no idea what went on in a pleasure spa other than, well, people bringing other people to pleasure, but he could imagine. Then he glanced again at Lady Donovan. "How is Lord Carmichael involved in that?"

"He isn't, but he was hurt by her defection. It's possible he felt more for Theresa than mere lust." The tendons of her neck worked with a hard swallow. "However, when Theresa came to see me, it wasn't due to her decision to go to Brighton."

Gabriel frowned as he scribbled notes. "Then why?"

"She, uh, had nowhere else to turn, for she had given birth to a child just before she'd come to visit me."

Mary looked at him, and there was a trace of tears in her eyes. His heart went out to her, for he knew from her stories that she couldn't conceive and that it had been a sore point between her and Benjamin. "That was why the midwife came to visit her at her boarding house." She snapped her gaze back to Lady Donovan. "Was it Lord Carmichael's?"

"I would have no idea; she swore me to secrecy regarding the babe's existence."

The case had suddenly taken a more complicated turn. "Why did she tell you about the child?"

"Theresa wished to give it up. Said a child didn't fit into her lifestyle and she didn't wish for it to ruin the new venture she was about to embark on, and that she knew she couldn't properly care for it. Perhaps Benjamin had told her at one time that one of the charities I work with was an orphanage in Surrey as well as a home for fallen women with children here in London." She shrugged. "I gave her both addresses and wished her well. Society isn't kind to women no matter their status in society who have a child out of wedlock."

Unexpectedly, Mary launched to her feet. "I'm sorry, but I must go. I simply can't listen to how my husband's mistress gave up a child…" A half-stifled sob took the remainder of her words.

"Ah, sweeting." Gabriel scrambled to his feet. He dropped his notebook and pencil into a pocket of his greatcoat. "I'll come with you."

"Wait." Lady Donovan rose as well. "Mary, I know I only met with you a few times during your marriage, but it wasn't my fault. My brother never let me have you over or spend time with you. He said it would give you airs."

Mary snorted. "Typical."

The other woman nodded. She had tears in her eyes. "My brother wasn't a good man, I will fully admit that, but at the time, I was a new bride myself and my attention was divided." A tear fell to her cheek, and she dashed it away. "I always thought you were too good for Benjamin. You weren't well-matched, and he was a bounder. You didn't deserve how he'd treated you." When she clasped her hands, she frowned. "I… I wrote several times but when my letters weren't answered, I thought you were offended."

"Oh." Mary took a few steps toward her and laid a hand on her arm. "I never received your letters; Ben must have taken them and destroyed them." Her chin quivered as tears fell to her own cheeks. "That friendship would have meant everything to me… after what I lived through."

Silence reigned in the room while Gabriel looked on with his chest swelling with pride. She was on her way to healing.

Lady Donovan giggled. "Well, you have a good man now." She looked at him. "Please take care of her. Mary is a special soul in this world."

"I intend to. Oh, and one thing more. Where were you last night between seven and eight o'clock?"

"At the Finkle's rout. You may inquire there, but they can vouch for my attendance."

"Thank you for your time, Lady Donovan."

"You are most welcome, and I hope for Theresa's sake, you find her killer. And I wish to do something kind for her by paying for her burial."

He nodded. "Inquire at Whitehall. They can direct you to the coroner's office and give you instructions from there."

"And Mary, if it is acceptable with you, I would like to remain acquaintances, if not friends. We can write to each other until you are comfortable enough to pay calls." Her grin was rueful. "I have found life is too short to push away the people who make us feel as if we're basking in sunshine."

Another round of tears followed for both women, then Mary quickly passed a calling card to the lady. After the women embraced, he ushered Mary from the house and then into the waiting carriage. Damnation, but this had already been a highly emotional day.

According to his pocket watch, it was nearing the six o'clock hour by the time the carriage pulled up to the curb outside of Lord Carmichael's Hanover Square townhouse. With a kiss to Mary's forehead, he exited the vehicle. It would give her the time she needed to compose herself after that last meeting.

He was taken into the house swiftly but was told Lord Carmichael was on his way out.

"I will wait here, then, for it's important I speak with him." After that, he was obliged to stare down the butler until the man dropped his gaze and said he would fetch the lord. That was fine with him, for he only wished to return to Mary's side and make certain she was doing better than when he'd left her.

Minutes later, a man in the requisite evening dress came into the entryway with the butler trailing behind. The peer wasn't what he'd been expecting. Indeed, he was a full six inches shorter than Gabriel and well on his way to balding with a handful of heroic blond shocks of hair still clinging to his scalp. But his eyes were kind and curiosity filled his countenance.

"I am Lord Carmichael. As my butler told you, I am indeed on my way out. What can I do for you?" He accepted his greatcoat and top hat from the butler, and as he donned them, Gabriel spoke.

"I'm here regarding the murder of a Miss Theresa Kessler."

Some of the color leeched from the other man's cheeks. Quickly and with shaking hands, he put on his gloves. "Perhaps we should talk outside. My carriage is already waiting."

With a nod to the butler, Gabriel followed the man out of the townhouse. "I understand she was your mistress."

"Was being the operative word," the other man bit out as he headed toward his carriage that had parked at the curb behind Gabriel's. "I haven't been with her for three months." Then Lord Carmichael turned to face him with shock in his expression. "She is truly dead?"

"She is. Murdered at the theater at Covent Garden. Your calling card was in her reticule." Gabriel glanced at the window of his carriage where Mary peered out with round eyes. He winked at her before giving his full attention back to the peer. "Why did you break things off with her?"

The other man shrugged, but the sorrow in his eyes was unmistakable. Liars couldn't fabricate such emotion. "She said she had a better offer."

"Another protector, higher in the ton than you?"

"Hardly." His bark of laughter contained much bitterness. "She told me she was going to work at a pleasure spa in Brighton."

"Had you ever been to that spa? "

An angry red flush went up the peer's neck. "Of course not. I am against such a sinful place."

"Ah, but taking a mistress is the epitome of moral then?" Gabriel cocked one of his eyebrows as Lord Carmichael sputtered. "Never mind. Did you fight about anything else?"

"We did not. Only that."

"You were jealous of her lending out her services to others." It wasn't a question.

"Of course I was! Wouldn't you be too if you'd accidentally… er… if you'd fallen in love with your mistress?"

No wonder he had been angry. "That is understandable. Did you tell her of your feelings?"

"I did, in fact, but she said she didn't believe in love, that it was more trouble than it was worth, that her last protector had shown her that." His face crumpled into sorrow before he got himself under control once more. "There was no convincing her, and I believe the man recruiting her—and women like her—made it seem as if the pleasure spa would be a leap into fame and fortune."

That made sense in order to attract enough courtesans for whatever the needs of the spa required. "Yet you were angry enough to kill her to prevent her from doing just that."

"Of course not!" He shook his head. "I was angry, yes, but I would never kill her. I loved her, even if she didn't return my regard."

Gabriel nodded. "Were you aware she'd given birth around the time you broke off your relationship with her?"

"What?" The other man went so pale, Bright feared he might faint. "I had no idea she was with child, and she never mentioned such to me." He gasped. "Perhaps that was why she'd wished to see me."

"At the theater?" Now that was odd.

He shook his head. "No, we had an assignation later that night in the gardens."

"Ah, for something other than sin, was it?" He couldn't help the comment.

"Reaching, Inspector."

"Had you had relations with her recently? Surely you would have noticed a change in her appearance."

"It's… complicated." Lord Carmichael heaved out a sigh. "I have been quite busy in banking, and sometimes when we'd come together, we were fully clothed or she, ah, did things to me without—"

"Stop." Gabriel held up a hand. "I don't need to hear more." Already, he'd heard far too much today about many things. "Had she been with anyone else during the past twelve months? "

"I don't believe so. She lived in my townhouse more days than she went back to her boarding house." A look of embarrassment crossed his face. "I'm of an age where companionship was more important to me than vigorous tupping all the time. I merely enjoyed her presence in the evenings."

In that, he felt a kinship with the other man. "I understand." But discovering he had a child and wasn't given the option of deciding its fate was a powerful motive. "You had no idea she was pregnant?"

"I did not." Hope filled his eyes. "Do you know what happened to the child?"

He shouldn't say, for it wasn't his place, but this man deserved to know, and if it would get them both out of the dreadful rain, all the better. "Talk with Lady Donovan. Miss Kessler spoke with her about where to place an unwanted infant. If you are swift about it, there is every possibility the child is still there." He shrugged. "Perhaps if you wish to either take on the infant or sponsor its care throughout its life, consider that your good deed that might cancel out the other questionable things your soul wrestles with."

"Thank you. I will." There was such joy and relief in the other man's expression, Gabriel couldn't help but grin.

"Where were you last night between seven and eight-thirty?"

"At my club. Any number of gentlemen can verify that information."

"Thank you." Yet he'd been scheduled to meet with Miss Kessler later.

"Good luck with the investigation. Theresa might have been confused about many aspects of life, and her… profession might not have been respectable, but deep down, she was a good person, or at least was trying to be."

"That is what we all should strive for." He touched the brim of his hat. "Enjoy your evening."

Then they parted ways, him to his carriage and Lord Carmichael to his.

"Where to, Inspector?" the driver asked.

Gabriel sighed. "Once more back to the theater. Then we will go home so we can all enjoy dinner." Then he ducked into the carriage, and while Bob again put up the steps and closed the door, he settled next to Mary. "Suffice it to say, Lord Carmichael fell in love with his mistress, and while she hid her pregnancy from him, he wishes to do right by the child. With the exception of the murder, I believe at least two lives have been changed today."

She burrowed into his side as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. "Four, really. Thank you for giving me the gift of a potential friendship with Lady Donovan. I don't know what I would do without you. "

"The feeling is mutual." Gabriel pressed his lips into her hair. "We have one more interrogation in London tonight then we can take dinner together. And we need to have a conversation about changing Cassandra's governess. I am wildly unhappy with Miss Oliver."

Oddly enough, she chuckled. "As am I. Even in this, we agree."

Wasn't that how it should be after one found and wed their soulmate?