16

Andre

Everyone had been amazed by the copy ink that Mabel had brought in. Once they saw it, the relieved joy at how much easier their jobs had gotten filled the station. I also saw that they all agreed that we had to keep it safe and value it like we should.

"Commander, I hate to be demanding, but six jars will barely get us through tomorrow," the captain who oversaw operations worried. "And we do not need five copies of all of our reports. Three at most."

"Four if something goes to court," I corrected. "So going forward, we'll do four, and then there will be copies in the file if someone needs them. But the ink—you will not use as much ink to do those four pages. It's concentrated so you only use the same as one sheet."

"That helps, but we do a lot of writing, sir."

"Yes, but this is only for reports. For now. I will get us more, but… Let's go slow so we utilize this correctly." I explained about the staining and how it would go through, easily finding something that would work for writing boards. We moved one desk in the center of the main room with officers always there working and put chairs on either side of it.

That was now our report writing desk. There would be a bit of backup as there were normally more than two people writing reports at the same time, but it was still more efficient than having to copy everything later. Two bottles were there, and after I gave another demonstration to the next shift, I left two more bottles with the captain in charge.

I'd have to come back to show the overnight shift, but it was worth it to make sure this was done right and not wasting the precious gift that Mabel had given me. I headed home on time with a bit of pep in my step. This was truly a miracle that would greatly help us.

She was.

I was almost to my door when I heard crying. I froze and listened before realizing it was coming from next door.

Dropping everything in my hands, I was over my gate with my gun in hand faster than most would have thought possible. I hopped her gate and checked the door was open. It was and I raced inside and listened for the crying again, taking off when I locked on where it was.

I blew past the kitchen and reached the family dining room ready to handle anything or any threat. "Mabel!"

I locked gazes with Ian of all people and neither one of us could hide our surprise at the other. Wait, this wasn't about him. I focused on Mabel and hurried to put my gun away when it was clear that no one was hurting her.

But she was crying and hard. Ian was rubbing her back and looked to be comforting her.

Mabel realized I was there and worried, but she wasn't making sense. Finally, she simply gestured with her arms.

Huh?

"She's saying look at the difference in the scars on her arms," Ian explained for me. "They're tears of joy."

"Relief," Mabel sobbed.

I didn't know what else to do, so I simply hugged her, kissing her hair. "I will look. I will do whatever you want. You took years off my life, Mabel. I reached my door and heard crying and about lost my mind."

"Your door?" Ian asked, his eyes hard as he took in how Mabel accepted my touch.

Oh, he didn't know yet. It was hard not to act like an ass. "Yes, I live next door."

He ground his jaw. "Of course, you do."

It honestly took everything I had not to smirk at him, but my focus was still on Mabel. I whispered against her hair and begged her to breathe. I didn't want to tell her to calm down so she didn't express herself around me, and she'd been too locked up for so long, but it hurt my heart that she was crying.

After another few minutes, she seemed to be back to herself, jumping away from me and apologizing for being inappropriate.

Ian snorted. "He's the one who grabbed and hugged you. You did nothing wrong."

"No, of course you did not," I agreed, helping her to sit again. "Now what were you trying to tell me?"

"The cream I made. It worked," she rasped, tears filling her eyes again.

"Come by the light and let him see, Mabel," Ian said gently, carefully focused on her.

But I knew full well he was making it clear that they were close enough as well. Asshole.

Still, not the focus right then.

I stood with Mabel and moved by the window. She showed me her right arm first and I hated the scars, knowing how much pain they must have caused her to receive. Then she showed me the left arm and I gasped. Without thinking, I grabbed her arm and looked closer. "And these were all from the same time?"

"I do not know what I had from when always, but they looked very similar when I started. There was actually a worse one on my left." She pointed to a big one. "This was from Angie cutting me several months ago."

I couldn't get my mouth to work for a few minutes until I saw I was making her uncomfortable. "I believe you. My mind cannot seem to process that it's a wound from that recently and not pink or… This looks years old." I grabbed her other arm and studied it before switching again. "Everything looks about twenty-five percent faded. About."

"Yes, I would agree," Ian said as he leaned in. "And not simply older but healed. Like smudged away." He grabbed her first arm and studied it before doing a double take at whatever was on my face. "I barely got to see. She said she wanted to check the results and I could see and—she had a valid reaction, but I did not get to see much."

"I understand." I did, and I was grateful that he explained even so there weren't any misunderstandings.

"I have to speak to the queen," Mabel whispered sadly as she pulled her arms away.

"Why? What does she have to do with this?" I asked, glancing between her and Ian. He seemed just as confused.

"I promised her that the training doctors could use the scars from my abuse in their teaching so the doctors in the kingdom lost the excuse that they hadn't seen spousal abuse to be able to recognize it."

"That's such bullshit," I hissed.

She shrugged. "It was what the Matthias doctor said knowing full well what was going on. But we need a way to take that excuse away."

"You know some sketch artists, right?" Ian asked me. "The police use them—"

"One is a woman," I confirmed, understanding where his head was. "I'll contact her tomorrow and see if she'll take the job. Probably. She's asked me to contact her first." I frowned when Ian snorted. "What? She did."

He gave me a look that I was dense. "Yes, you are always very popular. I bet she only wants your attention not work."

"She's married and has three kids," I drawled.

He was always so jealous. It used to make me feel special. Now it was just annoying.

"Thank you, Andre," Mabel said, cutting in before there was an issue. "I was going to ask you to come over after the grand duke so we could work on that other thing we discussed."

She had no idea how open that sounded, Ian shooting me a look of death.

"How about we head up to your workroom and you can tell me about it while explaining the rest you were going to. Unless you aren't comfortable sharing it with him yet?"

"Oh, he knows part of it," she said innocently before shooting me a look. "I do not want to betray your confidence."

Then it hit me. "He knows about my knee. We were in the war together. It was—many know. She's working on something to help me with it."

"Good, good," he said, shooting me a guilty look.

He had no reason to be guilty. As much as I had valid reasons to hate him, I couldn't put my injury on him. Just because I'd saved his life, it didn't mean he was to blame because he didn't save me. We were in a brutal war. The fact we both survived when so many hadn't was a miracle in itself.

"This is impressive, Mabel," Ian praised after she let us into the room upstairs.

"As much as the royal apothecary was a pushy jerk, he was quite helpful," she admitted. "He knew several tricks and ways to keep the light in the room as needed, but sunlight can harm a lot of herbs and plants. So he was a pain but helped a lot."

"Yes, I will tell Louisa that as well," Ian promised before clearing his throat. "I actually am heading there after we are done. I want to check on what I told you happened yesterday. I will update her with whatever you want and handle it."

"That would be great, thank you." She worried her lower lip and shot him a glance. "Tell her that I hope she's okay."

"I will."

What was this all about? I swallowed my curiosity. There was no point in asking. Ian was overly tight-lipped about his family, and I never blamed him since anything he said people ran with too much given they were the royal family.

She started by explaining her "market research" that Lady Kathy had helped her with. "The jars to the side are the ones that I cannot use. They have too much perfume or—they weren't compatible."

"It's smart to think of working with an existing cream instead of starting that process from scratch as well," I praised. "Like you did with the ink."

"What ink?" Ian asked, glancing between us.

"She'll get to that," I chuckled when Mabel gave him a frustrated look. "Do not jump ahead."

"Right, sorry," Ian said, dipping his head to her. "Please, continue with your genius." He moved closer and listened to her process and idea, nodding along.

The short version was she mixed the right herbs and ingredients into the creams and gave the cream time to soak it up like making stew by starting with making stock. It made sense and she said helped the potency. She showed us how little she'd used over the spot she'd been testing and it was tiny.

"And this is daily application after four days?" Ian checked.

"Four and a half? The fifth application was this morning on clean skin, so it had most of the day to soak in," she explained.

"Still, absolutely miraculous," he whispered as he stared at her arm again.

She was wearing a sleeveless house dress that clearly she'd picked to work in. It was different than what she'd been wearing earlier but just as flattering.

He did a double take when he saw something on the table. Ian picked up one jar and put it in front of Mabel, clearing his throat. "I do not want to be my pushy self, and this is certainly not anything that would incur any debt."

She flinched. "I was not being fair if you did not know what was going on. I meant to apologize last night."

"No, you were being fair, and I deserved your anger. I just want to help."

"I am open to suggestions," she hedged.

He nodded, tapping the jar. "Consider this an insider tip then or knowledge of the market. This is a newer company with a few shops that are not doing well. They have been blocked out of the market as they are a viscount family, and the main player in skincare products is a duke's family. If it was me and I'd invented a miracle—"

"You'd buy them out and go from there," she muttered, picking up the jar. "This was actually one of the top two that I liked. It's a clean formula and does not leave any grease like other creams." She glanced between the jars. "Which is the product from the duke's family?"

He chuckled and grabbed a jar from the rejected section.

She turned up her nose and huffed. "Of course, it's the worst of all of them. That's mostly perfume and not even a good scent. It's overpowering and meant to be noticed. How sad for them."

"You could buy the company out but pay them to manage the shops and product," Ian suggested. "That would make the price lower and give you labor right away. Plus, they would be able to save face that they did not fail but were smart enough to be folded into the next big thing to hit the kingdom."

"True, and I do not have to worry about a viscount flexing with my title," she muttered. She beamed at him. "Thank you, Your Grace."

He huffed, looking years younger and almost the spoiled prince that I had met so many years ago. "I told you to call me Ian. We're past formalities when we're alone or in your home."

"Baby steps," she argued. "I told Kathy the same. I am not yelling at you for calling me Mabel even if I never gave you permission."

Oh damn. I coughed to try and cover a chuckle.

"Whatever you say," Ian agreed.

Next, she showed him the ink and how it had to be mixed, and I took over after watching because it looked tiring and she had clearly been working on it. Plus, she could show Ian the proof with what was already made.

"This—how did you do this?" Ian gasped as he checked all five pages.

"I said the same," I chuckled, amused by his reaction. "My officers are about to build a damn shrine to her for saving them so much time and energy."

"I am still furious you did not have copy stones," she said with a huff. "What kind of idiot did not think the police of all people would need them? I know they're not cheap, but they're not that expensive. Probably not much more than all of the pens and ink you go through copying everything by hand. It's not like you have designated scribes either. What a waste of resources."

I blinked at her in shock until she reminded me to keep stirring and not mess up the batch.

Ian's reaction was even better, his jaw was practically on the floor.

She did a double take when she looked at him. "What's with you both?"

"I am the fucking idiot that you are speaking of," Ian drawled after he finally recovered. He chuckled when she winced. "I cannot even be mad when you are absolutely right. It was a huge oversight that no one has ever brought up or—"

"No one has?" I bit out. "I am fairly sure it's in my fucking requests every fucking quarter when I kill myself submitting budgets and—"

"Now you are mixing too fast," Mabel cut in, trying to take the bowl and metal spoon from me.

"Sorry, sorry," I whispered, letting out a slow breath as I paid attention. I met her worried gaze. "Sorry, did I ruin it?"

"I do not know," she admitted. "Keep stirring at that rate, and if it does not reduce by half in volume in a few more minutes then yes, probably."

Whoops.

Ian was staring at me, clearly waiting until I looked at him. "I have never seen that on your budget, Andre. Never." He held up his hand when I opened my mouth. "Those budgets go to the Minister of Finance's office to be reviewed and given to me as recommendations as to what can or would work. Nothing should ever have been trimmed from them."

I let out a slow breath, trying my best to be reasonable if he was going to be, and there was no chance I would blow my temper in front of Mabel and scare her. "If they were not listed as a priority request along with itemized numbers showing how much less manpower would be needed and how many extra hours my people work not getting paid for, you did not get my budgets."

He studied me, clearly believing me. "I now understand why you blow up at Colin and me so often. I am sorry. Truly. Knowing you, you have copies, right?"

"Of course. I have them next door locked up."

"I want to see them. I am going to kick some serious ass and…" He trailed off looking at Mabel.

"Oh no, please, do not worry about me," she said with a giggle. "I am all about you throwing people off mountains who are part of corruption. I am hoping David comes after me and one of my guards has the excuse to kill him. I understand being bloodthirsty."

I almost dropped the bowl, but I wasn't going to get yelled at a third time.

They talked about a few more things she'd come up with, but then she focused back on me, smiling at what she saw. Good, I hadn't ruined the batch. She explained it to Ian like she had me about the dough and whatnot.

Ian looked at his watch and said he had to go, that he would find me tomorrow for the reports and bring a copy stone so he could make quick work of getting what he needed but not stealing my originals. He grabbed a few of the bottles of ink that Mabel had just capped and promised he would also let her know how the updates went over and talk to her soon.

And then he was gone.

"What's wrong?" I asked her when she was frowning and staring at the door.

"He's a very frustrating man," she muttered. "I did not say I was offering the ink to the king or palace. Did you hear me say that? No, because I did not, but he talks so fast, and it's all looped with other things and him being a member of the royal family you let him finish and then it's just done."

I threw back my head and laughed harder than I had in a long, long time. Mabel just summed up my frustrations and relationship with Ian succinctly. "He's the reason everyone thinks I have such a hair-trigger temper. He's infuriating."

"He really is, but you cannot hate him because he cares and apologizes like he should."

"Very true." I moved closer and smiled at her. "So how are we doing this treatment you are giving me?"

"Oh yes, right, good." She glanced around and pulled over a stool but then frowned. "Actually, could you sit on the counter and put your foot on the stool? And I need to see your knee."

"Sure, I will take my pants off for you, Mabel," I teased, bursting out laughing when she turned several shades of red.

"I assumed you could roll them up," she defended. "But I suppose you cannot do that with work pants."

"Let me go home and change into shorts," I offered when I saw she was too flustered. I swore under my breath. "I left a bunch of stuff on the porch because I thought you were in trouble."

"Oh, sorry about that, but I feel very safe knowing you heard even that," she admitted.

Well, that was something. I walked out as Reba was coming in and she did a double take, greeting me. She was loaded to the gills with bags and one of Mabel's guards was with her.

"Suggest I stay for dinner and I will approve your next time off request without any questions asked," I told her under her breath.

"Yes, sir," she chuckled, looking overly amused.

I could work with that. She was a good one after all.

I hurried home and was glad everything was still on the porch. It was a safe neighborhood, but a lot of people did not like the police and certainly not the head of the police department for the kingdom. I had to always be careful.

I was back out the door in shorts and a sleeveless training shirt after I put everything away. I said it was because I would look silly in shorts and my long-sleeved work shirt, but really I just hoped to impress her with my muscular arms. I'd heard from a lot of women that they were impressive.

And I wanted that to make up for my mangled knee.

"You are staying for dinner, right, boss?" Reba asked when I came back in the house, Mabel helping to get everything to the kitchen and handled.

"Oh, yes, of course, you are welcome to join us, Andre," Mabel easily accepted before looking into the kitchen. "Is there enough for one more?"

"Yes, and the guards, My Lady," a woman said, probably the maid on loan from Count Follan.

"You are so amazing. I am not going to let you go back and leave me," Mabel teased. She left the rest to them and led me back upstairs to her workshop.

I took the spot she wanted me to and listened to her nervously ramble about what she hoped to accomplish. Basically, she wanted to use me to test out the swelling cream which would hopefully help.

But then it would be a pain cream, and eventually she was planning what sounded like a healing magical cream but for old wounds… That even the healers couldn't have healed? There had been healers who had tried to help me. I knew Ian had ordered them to help me when he found out about what happened. It was beyond even them, and the surgeons had handled my wound.

"I do not know anything can fix this mess, Mabel," I told her gently.

She gave me a weird look that almost looked offended, but then I realized she thought I was out of hope. "Yes, well, no harm in trying, right? Yesterday you would have said there was no way ink could ever write through pages to make five copies and today you know there is."

"If anyone can make something so amazing, it's you," I agreed. "I just wanted you to know I have been to—healers were there then and I have seen some since. I am at the limit of magic."

"I understand." She let it go and applied a lotion to my knee, rubbing it in.

Almost instantly, I moaned. "It's cooling. Shit, this is nice. It's like the pressure always built there is calming down." I groaned as she applied more to the back of my knee.

"Good, that's the reaction I was hoping for," she mumbled as she leaned in closer to my knee and looked it over… And was completely oblivious to how close her face was to my groin as she did.

I went rock hard as she kept rubbing my knee and studying my body. It was about to show in my shorts if she looked, and honestly I lost my mind a bit. "Mabel, you cannot treat men alone like this."

"Huh?" she asked as she looked up at me.

I leaned in and kissed her as I cupped her cheek. Just the softest brush of my lips over her. "Darling, you are rubbing my skin and close to my—my body is reacting to your beauty. You cannot treat other men like this." I kissed her again, a bit longer this time.

She gasped and pulled away, realizing what was going on. She blubbered an apology and just about fled.

Run all you want, Mabel, but I will give chase now that I have tasted your sweet, sweet lips.