Chapter 24

Time away from the city…

It was Munro who provided the answer to my question regarding where Brodie had gone when I arrived at Sussex Square to assure my great-aunt, and Lily of course, that I was quite all right.

My aunt had merely inspected me, then commented, "I have some cosmetics that will cover that, left by Templeton after a performance. After all I cannot go about the city in the motor carriage appearing like an old woman. One never knows whom one might encounter, perhaps a handsome man.

"It does cover quite nicely," she had continued. "Wrinkles in my case, and makes one feel quite lovely. By the way, I have not seen Mr. Brodie of late."

A hint for information, if ever there was one, which I avoided answering.

I could only imagine the benefit of the cosmetics, still I would most definitely sample some. The nasty bruise above my lip was the worst of it, not that I was usually concerned about such things. And it did bring startled looks from the servants. I could only imagine the comments others might offer.

"Crivvens!" Lily had exclaimed when she saw me. "I hope ye gave as good as ye got."

I hadn't thought of it that way. However, very near unconscious at the time, the best I was able to do was to kick out at the man I now knew as Jacob Howell, in a particularly vulnerable location when I had come to enough in the hold of the ship. That was when he had struck me across the face.

After all was said and done, what was in store for him now was far better than any blow I could have struck, even though it would have been most satisfying at the time.

Munro had just returned from business across the city. I found him at his office near the kitchens.

"Leeds. Brimley's son lives there with his family," he informed me when I asked if he knew where Brodie had gone.

A safe place, where Brodie had taken Rory, after his mother was killed.

I had not met the boy, of course, but I felt that instinctive tightness around my heart for what he had gone through, the loss of his mother, the horror he must have experienced the night she was murdered, not knowing what would happen to him. And there was the very real possibility that he might have been killed as well.

As I knew only too well, there were things that stayed with a person, no matter the passing of years, things that were never forgotten, but simply dealt with as best one could.

Munro waited, as if there was something more, then, "He should be back tomorrow."

I stayed the rest of the day, then night at Sussex Square, but couldn't help but think of Brodie, and how difficult it undoubtedly was to go to Leeds and explain to Rory Sutton that the man who had killed his mother had been found, and he no longer had to be afraid.

I listened to Lily's description of her latest studies, though not without the occasional roll of her eyes.

"Just get through your lessons," I encouraged her, what had worked for me very near her age. "Then you can choose whatever you would like to pursue next, perhaps travel..."

"I would like to work with you and Mr. Brodie," she announced.

Oh dear. I had exchanged a look with my great-aunt at that one.

"The apple does not fall far from the tree," Aunt Antonia merrily announced.

The next morning, I called to leave a message for Adelaide Matthews. After giving the servant my name, she picked up the call herself.

Her voice trembled at first. Yes, she had been called upon by a man from Sir Avery's office who had explained the events of the day before. Her voice grew stronger as she said that she would like very much to see me.

Afterward, I asked Mr. Hastings to bring round the coach to take me to the Matthews' home in Kent.

Adelaide Matthews was dressed in a deep, rich burgundy gown. There were circles under her eyes, but the soft smile was warm and...brave, I thought.

She was concerned for me after having learned some of the details of the confrontation with her husband and Jacob Howell.

"I met the man once," she revealed, with no small amount of shock. "I had no way of knowing...but now..." Her voice broke softly.

"Edward was responsible for Stephen's..." She looked at me. "What about my grandson? When may I see him?"

I explained that Brodie had gone to Leeds, and that I hoped to see him later that day when he returned. He would undoubtedly want to make arrangements for her to see Rory.

"He is all I have left, you know," she said.

Upon leaving, I asked Mr. Hastings to take me to the office on the Strand.

Mr. Cavendish had returned to his usual place in the alcove at the foot of the stairs to the office. The hound leapt down from the coach as we arrived. His greeting for his old friend was to check for any food that might be about.

"And yerself?" Mr. Cavendish inquired with a narrowed look at me.

I assured him that I was quite all right. I had after all, applied some of my aunt's cosmetics before leaving Sussex Square.

"He's up at the office, sure enough," he told me then. "Returned a while earlier...he has someone with him, a young lad."

He had obviously brought Rory back to London with him. I heard their voices as I reached the landing at the top of the stairs then opened the door.

Two pairs of dark eyes fastened on me—one with that scar above his left brow only just beginning to heal, the other from a pale, solemn young face. Of the three of us, Brodie was the first to recover.

There was something in his voice as he introduced us.

"Rory, lad, this is Mikaela Forsythe." He looked at me then, the expression identical in both dark gazes.

His arm was around the boy's shoulders that were far too thin.

"It's all right," he gently told the boy. "She's a friend."

Rory nodded, then slowly approached. His face was thin as well, which made his eyes seem enormous, and his overlong dark hair was in need of a trim. But there was bravery in his expression, almost defiance in spite of what he'd been through, as he held out a hand.

"I am pleased to meet you, Miss Forsythe."

"And I am very pleased to meet you," I finally managed as I looked over his head at Brodie.

"Aye, lad," Brodie told him. "Ye've already met Mr. Cavendish below, and no doubt the hound has returned as well. Ye might ask the man to accompany ye to the public house, as I imagine yer near starved."

Rory nodded. "Does the hound bite?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "But he is most fond of biscuits and scones. Ask for some from Miss Effie at the Public House."

He nodded, then looked to Brodie once more.

"It's all right, lad. Yer safe enough now."

There was a long silence after he left. Brodie went to the window at the door and glanced below, much like a...worried parent.

He turned then. "There are things we need to talk about."

We sat across from each other at the desk, the way we had dozens of times. Only I sensed that this was different.

He had changed since that first inquiry case. There were faint flecks of grey among the thick dark hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. There seemed to be a permanent frown line at one corner of his mouth, and of course that cut above his left eye.

But there was something more…

"I wanted to tell ye, from the first of it but…" He shook his head, that dark gaze finally meeting mine.

"Everything happened quickly and he was in danger...Then ye were off on yer own…"

When I would have said something, he shook his head as he came out of the chair and paced across the office as I had seen dozens of times when something bothered him.

"The truth is…" he started to explain, then stopped.

When he seemed to be having some difficulty, I finished the thought. "Is he yours?"

He frowned. "I dinna know."

The words seemed caught there. He shook his head again.

"I told ye that I found Ellie Sutton work at a public house all those years ago. From there she found work at the club where she met young Matthews. Things had been difficult for them. His father didna approve of her and she had returned...for a while."

And she had returned to the one person who had helped her.

"We were together for a while, not long. Then Matthews sent word for her. It was obvious she had been hoping the whole time, though I tried to get her to understand how difficult it would be, the differences between them, the disapproval.

"Ye need to know that it wasna like what there is between us," he added.

As he explained, I suppose I had suspected as much the moment I saw Rory—that dark gaze and the dark hair.

"When she returned over a year ago," he continued. "I thought he might be mine at the time when I saw him," he continued. "But she insisted that Matthews was the father. She hoped after all the time that had passed it might be possible for the lad to know his family. It was the reason she came back."

It was a great deal to take in. Still, I was not na?ve that he would have had relationships before. I had not considered that he might have a child. He continued to watch me with that intense gaze.

"I've spoken with Adelaide Matthews," I added. "She believes that he is her grandson. She would like very much to see him."

"Aye, in time," he replied. "He's come through a great deal."

Something he understood very well, having lost his mother very near the same age.

"There is no way to know for certain if he is mine," he said then. "But I intend to be part of his life."

I understood, and would have expected no less.

"We will figure it out together."

"It's more than ye bargained for, and I dinna expect ye to be part of it," he replied. "And there are other considerations. The lad needs to feel safe as he goes through this."

What was he trying to say? When I would have asked, he stopped me.

"This case...the other night, what could have happened. I have given it a great deal of thought. Ye went to someone who was dangerous, and ye could have been killed."

It was an old discussion, we'd had before. I thought we had at least reached an agreement about my involvement in our inquiry cases.

"I didn't know that at the time," I pointed out. What was he trying to say? What was happening?

His voice changed, halting, anger slipping in.

"I told ye to stay out of it! To stay away. I didna want yer help. And ye went to Matthews, knowing what ye did about the sort of man he was toward his own wife."

"It wasn't as if you could have gone there," I pointed out. "I thought he might know something about what happened that night at the Clarendon Club that could be useful to our case. And it wasn't as if I was alone, I had the revolver and Rupert was with me. I had also left a message for Munro."

"The hound? And what use was the revolver when Howell had ye bound and thrown into the hull of that ship?"

"The hound has proven himself on more than one occasion," I added. "And as I recall, Rupert led you and Munro to the hold of that ship."

"Ye didna do as I asked and it could have cost yer life! And now, yer to work for Sir Avery and the Agency in God knows what situations, when ye know my feelin's toward the man."

So that was what had him stirred up. I had hoped to speak with him first about it. Obviously, Sir Avery had already shared that with him.

"It was an agreement I made to have Dr. Watson see to your wounds after Abberline had you beaten," I reminded him. "According to the doctor, it very well saved your life!"

I was now on my feet, unable to comprehend how we had gotten from our conversation about Rory, to this.

"I was willing to agree to his terms to see it done. And I might add that you would have done the same!"

I went to the door. I was tired, angry, and hurt. He was equally angry, but it was what he had said—that he didn't expect me to be part of this new arrangement.

"Mikaela...!"

I heard the warning in his voice. I had heard it all before but not like this.

"You should have trusted me!" I told him, and slammed the door on my way out.

It seemed that Brodie and I had reached an impasse in our work together, and our relationship. It was not the first time, still this time was quite different.

Brodie didn't return to the town house. And I didn't return to the office on the Strand.

As one week slipped into another after the Matthews case was solved, I spent a great deal of time at Sussex Square assisting my aunt and Lily as they prepared for their departure for Africa.

They would be gone for almost four months, traveling first by steamship across the channel to Calais, then by packet to Lisbon, through the Strait of Gibraltar, and around northern Africa to Kenya.

It would be a full month before they arrived in Kenya, where they would stay at a compound frequented by other English travelers before departing on safari.

Lily had acquired a box camera. She was determined to take as many pictures as possible. I didn't bother to explain that there might be few places to acquire more film.

My aunt was still making decisions about which clothes to take with her, her favorite being the full hunting costume with pith helmet.

"We'll not be hunting for heaven's sake," she informed me. "Nevertheless, I do believe that pants and boots would be appropriate, don't you think, Mikaela dear? And then there are the suppers at Sir Laurence's compound, quite elegant affairs I'm told. I shall need the new gowns for that. I suppose the weather should be a consideration as well, as it will be quite warm, I am told."

I chose to stay out of this conversation. When I had been to Africa, it had been by sailing ship across the Mediterranean to Cairo, down the Nile as far as we could travel, then into the desert of the Sahara—not an adventure I thought my great-aunt was up to, all things considered.

Through Munro, I was aware that after the initial scandal of charges against Sir Edward in the matter of the death of Ellie Sutton and Stephen Matthews ten years earlier, as well as Jacob Howell, that Brodie had taken Rory to see Adelaide Matthews, and she had asked to be allowed to see him often.

"It will take a while," Munro had told me, as if he was aware that there was something amiss between Brodie and me. "Ye know him better than any. Give it time."

I did give it time.

Adelaide Matthews had asked me to return, and I did. I liked her very much.

There was grief of course, much like an old injury that had been injured once more. But the wound would heal in time. And then there was Rory.

He was a frequent presence, and the grey pallor had disappeared from Adelaide's face, replaced by a smile of genuine happiness. It was time, I thought.

As for Rory, I arrived one afternoon to find him playing with the train set Adelaide had purchased for him. Lily had accompanied me when she heard where I was going that particular day, and it appeared that he was quite taken with his new ‘friend.'

Adelaide had encouraged Lily to call again after she returned from safari. Rory had been fascinated about it. For her part, Lily had merely shrugged as we departed.

"He reminds me of someone," she commented. And that was all that was said.

Two weeks became three, and there was still no word from Brodie. It did seem that our disagreement was most serious. I wasn't certain now that I knew him at all.

The week before Lily and my aunt were to depart, there was still no word from him.

I had thought a great deal about the situation, as I now thought of our estrangement. While I understood his concerns for Rory, I was not willing to accept that I had done anything wrong in going to Sir Avery regarding Brodie's incarceration, badly wounded, at Scotland Yard.

While I had dealt with that overbearing, stubborn Scottish demeanor in the past, I knew that I was right in what I had done. The problem was that he refused to see it.

Then, Lily and my aunt were to depart for Southampton the following day. I had made a decision and sat down and penned a note for Munro to take to Brodie. I intended to keep it brief, however there were things that needed to be said.

I have given our last conversation considerable thought. In spite of our work together, which resolved several difficult inquiries, it seems that we have reached an impasse.

I have decided to accompany Lily and my aunt to Africa. We will be gone for several months.

I wish you well in your work, and particularly with Rory. He seems a very fine young man.

I hesitated on how to close the message. Any endearment seemed somehow inappropriate under the circumstances.

I signed it simply, "M".

Brodie was not at Southampton to see us off, and I had not expected it. My note had said all there was to say. There had been no response.

Munro had accompanied us to the port.

"Miss..." He started to say something in parting, then hesitated.

I had no idea what he would have said as I shook my head.

"It's quite all right, you know," I told him.

We boarded the steamship that was to take us to Calais, and then on to Kenya.

I did not look back.