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Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Eleanor walked a mile without uttering a word. Memories of the past flooded her mind, her father's refusal to attend village fetes and church services, his constant demand for privacy. Was he afraid she would discover the truth? Had he feared she would run away like her mother?

Things might have been different if he'd been honest. It would have explained his behaviour and shown his anger stemmed from shame. He might have mellowed, taken a wife and had more children. The house might have been filled with love, not been as grim as a mausoleum.

She gripped Theo's arm tightly, her fingers settling over his bicep. He was a pillar of strength. He did not speak or attempt to ease her pain. He instinctively knew she needed time to process what she had learnt.

"Thank you," she said as they entered New Bridge Street and met the familiar smell of the river and coal smoke. "For not telling me what to think or feel. For not bombarding me with mindless questions. "

He touched her hand and smiled. "The remedy for chaos is peace. When the mind is quiet, a way forward emerges. You need to deal with this in your own way, in your own time."

"I don't know if what Emily said is true." Why would Eleanor's father play such a cruel trick? To lie, to deceive her for all these years. It beggared belief.

"If it's not true, then Emily is not the kind person you championed. If it is, I would offer you one piece of advice."

She looked into his calming blue eyes. "Yes?"

"Focus on what you've gained, not what you've lost." He released a deep sigh, one carrying the weight of experience. "Loss ties you to the past. Trust me, there is nothing but misery there."

Guilt had tied her to the past, too.

Every thought and deed stemmed from seeds sewn years ago.

"Life moves forward with or without you," he added. "Don't waste time trying to understand a person's motives. It brings nothing but heartache. I've had to accept that my father was a rotten scoundrel."

Talk of scoundrels made her think of Jack Rogers.

The man was a leech who lived off the hard work of others.

"Do you think Emily will be safe at home?" She'd heard the shocking revelation half an hour ago but was already thinking like an elder sister. "What did Mr Rogers say when you took him outside?"

Theo's satisfied grin said the men had exchanged more than words. "He agreed to take her home and play the loving uncle. Should I hear otherwise, he knows I'll be waiting for him outside the Red Lion on a misty night. "

His confidence was contagious.

He had a way of lifting her spirits.

A means of making everything right.

"What would I do without you?" she teased, but there was a resounding truth to her remark. She was in love with him. It was hard to imagine life alone. She'd miss the warmth of his smile, the mischief in his eyes, his kind words, his tender touch.

"I'm merely fixing the problems I helped to create."

"Is that why you're so kind to me, out of guilt?"

He brought her to a halt outside the shop, his eyes meeting hers. "Did I look guilty when I kissed every inch of your naked body? Did guilt have me losing my mind when I pushed deep inside you? Is it guilt that leaves me desperate to make love to you again?"

The feverish look in his eyes said he spoke in earnest.

"That is lust," she said, wishing he loved her, too.

"And yet the word barely defines what happened between us in bed. It doesn't explain why we remained in each other's arms for hours."

She swallowed hard. "I'm certainly no expert, but perhaps that's what happens when friends make love."

His gaze dipped to her mouth. "Perhaps."

"Miss Darrow! Miss Darrow!"

Theo grumbled at the interruption. "Devil take it. What now?"

Eleanor turned to see Miss Franklin hurrying across the road, clutching her plain bonnet to her head while waving to get Eleanor's attention. The poor woman was breathless, her cheeks berry red.

"Thank heavens I've caught you." Miss Franklin, a young woman of twenty with a pleasant countenance, clasped her chest and took a deep breath. "Have you heard what happened at Mr Walker's premises last night? My brother has spent most of the day helping him clear broken glass. An intruder smashed all his medicines and tinctures. Who would do such a thing?"

Eleanor waited for Miss Franklin to pause so she might introduce Theo, but the woman barely stopped for breath.

"What's most peculiar is that the criminal took nothing. Not even Mr Walker's silver mantel clock he inherited from his grandmother. The lady hailed from York but left her Roman coins to Mr Walker's sister. She sold them and left him heartbroken. But no matter. I ask you, how can we protect ourselves from these miscreants who walk the streets at night?"

Eleanor opened her mouth and closed it again.

"My brother hasn't slept properly in months. He's up all hours of the night, peering out of the window. It's beginning to take its toll. Only yesterday, he wrote the wrong date on a customer's receipt."

Theo put his hand to his mouth and coughed to disguise a chuckle. Never in the history of oratory had a person crammed so many words into a minute.

"It's undoubtedly the same person who caused the damage in your shop. How do you propose we catch him? The devil gets a thrill from ruining lives and reputations."

"That's why I hired a guard to watch the shop in my absence," Eleanor said, grateful for a chance to speak. "And my friend, Mr Chance, is leading an enquiry into the matter. We're sure to find answers soon."

Miss Franklin looked at Theo as if she'd not noticed he was there. Her brown eyes widened, and she dabbed her fingers to her brow .

"Mr Chance, good … good afternoon." Miss Franklin took time to appreciate Theo's broad shoulders. "You're exactly what we need. A capable man to take charge of the matter. You should both dine with us this evening. My brother is quite protective of Miss Darrow. He will be pleased to know someone is considering her welfare. Yes, I'm sure it will be a splendid evening all round."

Dine with the Franklins?

Eleanor would rather listen to a lecture on the history of lint.

"Sadly, we have a previous engagement." She tried to look a little downcast. "Perhaps some other time. Once we've caught this blackguard and can all rest a little easier in our beds."

"Yes, I suppose it's hard to strike up an appetite when we might be attacked at any moment." Miss Franklin fluttered her lashes. "Perhaps a stroll in the park might suit us better. We might?—"

The lady stopped abruptly when she noticed Mr Franklin approaching. Her smile died, and she grumbled under her breath.

Mr Franklin had Eleanor in his sights. He greeted her with the warmth of a man who had more than friendship in mind. "Miss Darrow. I trust you've heard the dreadful news about Mr Walker's apothecary."

"Yes, though I find it strange nothing was stolen."

Theo agreed. "If the culprit arrived by barge or merchant ship, as you previously claimed, surely he would have stolen the mantel clock."

Mr Franklin brushed a hand through his wavy brown hair. "Then it must have been the vagabond who broke into Miss Darrow's shop. The whole business is confounding. "

"Have you spoken to the warden at Bridewell?" Theo gestured to the entrance of the correction facility a hundred yards along the street. "Perhaps an inmate escaped and went on the rampage."

Eleanor might have thought so, too, had the villain not lifted the floorboards and stolen her diary. Had he not threatened to kill her if she failed to deliver his notes—his blank notes.

"I spoke to the warden after the raid in the cobbler's yard," Mr Franklin said. "He assured me all prisoners were accounted for. Besides, the incidents occurred over a period of weeks. I doubt the villain escaped on three separate occasions."

Miss Franklin hadn't uttered a word since her brother's arrival. Perhaps that's why she gabbled in his absence.

"Well, I am glad you have returned to the shop, Miss Darrow." Miss Franklin sounded relieved rather than glad. "We cannot let these dreadful beggars scare us from our homes. Will you be accepting clients soon?"

After hearing Emily's shocking revelation, Eleanor's head was as heavy as lead. Everything she had believed was a lie. Her mother's death was not a tragedy. Her father was not a grieving widower. Ivy's dream was to amass lovers, not become a famed modiste.

"Perhaps I shall have a grand reopening."

She might not open at all. She would be on the first boat to Boston had she not fallen in love. A new life abroad would see an end to her problems. But things were different now.

"How wonderful." Miss Franklin clapped her hands together in glee. "I will be delighted to attend. "

It was another odd reaction. Miss Franklin could not afford Eleanor's prices, though she often came to the shop to stare doe-eyed at the gowns on display. She commented on the designs, sat on the sofa and spoke to waiting relatives. Once, Eleanor had caught Miss Franklin showing Lady Lucille the array of pretty combs in the cabinet.

Maybe she hoped to work as a modiste.

Maybe she found excuses to stay out of her brother's way.

"A talent like yours should not go to waste," Mr Franklin said, fixing Eleanor with his admiring stare. "I would be most disheartened if you were to move your business elsewhere."

"Yes, we cannot let these ruffians defeat us." Miss Franklin shook her gloved fist, though it was obvious she would break her wrist if she hit anyone. "We'll protect you, Miss Darrow. We'll watch your premises night and day."

A little embarrassed, her brother coughed to clear his throat. "Miss Darrow has employed Mr Gibbs as a deterrent. He seems like a capable man. I wouldn't want to encounter him in the yard at night."

"Only a fool would tackle Gibbs," Theo said, his voice carrying a note of caution. "He's far more dangerous than he looks."

"He looks terrifying," Miss Franklin agreed.

"Let's hope he's a permanent presence," Mr Franklin managed to say before his sister interrupted.

"Yes, it pains me to see your hard work reduced to rubble and scattered about the floor. I do admire your resilience. Your stock was ruined. You've taken a terrible tumble down the stairs, and still, you're smiling and making plans to reopen." Miss Franklin turned to her brother. "Is she not a remarkable woman, Geoffrey?"

"Utterly remarkable." Mr Franklin's gaze was a clear message of adoration. "Though a woman should have someone to depend upon. A man she can confide in and trust."

Good heavens. Mr Franklin had never been so frank. He looked at Theo like the word rogue was engraved on his forehead.

"Miss Darrow has a man to depend upon." Theo's devilish grin exuded self-assurance. "I am her closest friend. The person she turns to in times of crisis. A man who would defend her with his last breath."

He might have said they were lovers.

The fact couldn't be plainer.

"I'm friends with Mr Chance's sister," Eleanor explained. She would not have the Franklins spreading malicious gossip. "And have known the family for some time." Keen to leave before the men flexed their muscles to prove a point, she said, "If you'll excuse me. Since I fell, I've been suffering from headaches and need rest."

Eleanor winced and pressed her fingers to her temples to make her plea look convincing. That's when an odd thought struck her. One that had her reaching for Theo's arm and bidding the Franklins good day.

They entered the shop, and Eleanor locked the door.

"I'm not happy about leaving you here alone tonight," Theo said after informing Mr Gibbs they were home. "Franklin is besotted. He might start a fire so he can come to your rescue."

She might have accused him of being jealous but had something more important to convey. "Did you tell Mr Franklin I fell down the stairs? I'm wondering how Miss Franklin knew."

Theo frowned. "No. I've not spoken to him, but I believe he saw me carrying you to the carriage. My sister-in-law helped to tidy the shop. Perhaps Franklin questioned her while I was out."

"Yes, that's probably it."

And yet the gnawing sense of unease did not abate. Had Miss Franklin entered the shop and started snooping upstairs? If so, where did she get the key? Was she a thief? Had she taken the villain's book and Eleanor's diary? Had she pushed Eleanor down the stairs?

The notion seemed ridiculous.

The firm shove in the back had been deliberate. Miss Franklin was as fragile as a fledgling sparrow. And if she did have a mean streak, what was her motive? Eleanor had not exchanged a cross word with her these last five years.

Not wanting to worry Theo, she forced a smile. "It's probably better you return to Fortune's Den. Miss Franklin couldn't take her eyes off you. She'll find an excuse to visit if she thinks you're here."

Theo glanced over his shoulder before capturing her hand. "I'm yours until you tire of me." He held her gaze and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. "Let me assure you, I'll never tire of you."

"You seem keen to pay another forfeit."

He took umbrage at her comment. "After all you've been through, do you think I would lie?"

Her heart clenched. He must be confusing lust with something more permanent. "I'm not used to men saying nice things."

"This man has plenty of nice things to say about you, Eleanor Darrow." He gave a cheeky wink. "And some he wishes to keep to himself, as they're too scandalous to repeat aloud."

"Perhaps you might whisper them in the carriage tomorrow. We must visit the solicitor as part of our ongoing investigation."

"Perhaps I'll whisper them tonight," he teased. "Will you not consider returning with me to Fortune's Den? I can't leave you here."

It was a tempting offer, but she could not escape her problems. And she was safe in Mr Gibbs' care.

"I cannot live with you indefinitely." Yet the thought roused an ache in her chest, a deep and persistent longing. "I must get used to staying here alone. I must solve the mystery and return to work before I find myself in the Marshalsea."

A muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes conveyed an inner torment. "Then let me stay here tonight. Aaron can manage without me. He'll understand the importance of me remaining with you."

After a quick tussle between her head and her heart, she said, "I'm not sure he would. Besides, we both need a good night's sleep. I shall see you in the morning. If you can rise before noon."

Her jest did not bring the desired result.

His mouth remained a taut line. "You don't want me to stay?"

Oh, this man could break hearts. One look at his doleful expression, and she almost surrendered. "Theo, this isn't about what I want." She wanted more than he could give. "I need time to process what I've learned today. And it will be better for us if we spend some time apart. "

The conversation went back and forth before he said, "But what will you eat? Gibbs returned with half a pig."

That accounted for the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen.

She chuckled. "I shall find something in the larder."

He stayed for another hour while Mr Gibbs showed his arsenal of weapons and made a blood oath to protect her until he heaved his last breath.

The sun was setting as Theo lingered in the doorway, a towering silhouette against a mellow orange sky.

"I would kiss you goodnight, but I can feel Franklin's gaze burning a hole in my back." His mouth curled into a slow smile. "Your kisses are worth dying for, but I'll sacrifice one in the hope of gaining more tomorrow."

She might have joked or lied but delivered a resounding truth instead. "I shall miss your company tonight. I shall miss you."

"It's not too late to reconsider."

A vision of his sweat-soaked body burst into her mind. He was the forbidden fruit. The thought of making love to him would tempt anyone to sin. But a small sacrifice now meant less pain later.

"Goodnight, Theo. Shall I see you promptly at ten?"

"More like noon. We have a family meeting at ten every day. If I'm at home, I'm required to attend."

She imagined the scene—a loving gathering around the dining table. "I shall be waiting. Come when you're ready."

"Don't open the door to anyone," he urged her.

"If you hadn't noticed, Mr Gibbs is watching me like a hawk."

He nodded, though looked ill at ease. "Goodnight. "

He bid her farewell three times as she closed the door. She turned her back to him before her resolve faltered.

Mr Gibbs had made a pork and apple stew for supper. Eleanor shocked him by asking him to sit with her at the small kitchen table.

"I beg your pardon, but I ain't got a gentleman's manners, miss." Mr Gibbs swamped the small wooden chair and held his cutlery like they were weapons to disable intruders.

"I'm not a gentleman's daughter, though my father rapped my hand with his bible if I slouched."

"He sounds like a brute." Mr Gibbs shovelled a spoonful of stew into his mouth and swallowed with little chewing. "I've met a fair few of them in my time."

Lost in thought, Eleanor took time to eat her next mouthful. Had her father insisted she forge a career in dressmaking so she wouldn't make her mother's mistakes? Were the endless hours of sewing a way of keeping her out of the gossips' way. Or did Emily have a reason to lie?

Mr Gibbs mistook her quietude for worry. He wiped his mouth with his hand and offered every reassurance. "No one will hurt you on my watch, miss. I'll not sleep tonight. I give you my word."

Eleanor wouldn't sleep either, not when her bedsheets smelled of Theodore Chance. "Do you know how to play piquet or whist?"

"Know how to play?" he scoffed. "I've ruined every devil who's played against me at the Grapes tavern."

A game of cards would be the perfect distraction.

Theo had been gone an hour, yet it felt like a lifetime. Thoughts of him would have her tossing and turning all night. Love's ache was like a sickness, a nausea his presence kept at bay.

"Well?" Mr Gibbs asked, whipping a pack of cards from his pocket and shuffling them so fast they merged into one. "Have you the courage to wager with a champion? If you want to play, I'll take no prisoners."

Eleanor smiled. "I've courage abound, Mr Gibbs, though perhaps we should play for buttons."

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