Chapter Nine

December 24, 1819

Christmas Eve night

Mary stood in the drawing room staring at the evergreen tree Gabriel and Henry, with the assistance of Cassandra, had brought into the house earlier that day.

It rested on a table in a corner near the window, “planted” into a ceramic urn and secured with dirt as well as a few rags stuffed around the trunk to keep it upright. Once the men had finished that part, she and Cassandra had decorated the branches with glass balls and tin bells that matched the baubles in the greenery on the mantel. Strings of beads as well as gooseberries added pops of color to the dark green branches. Then they’d put a few dried slices of oranges to the mix, some small red velvet ribbons, and one of Cassandra’s foiled stars on top.

At some point, Mrs. Pearson had affixed tiny brass candle holders to some of the branches with equally tiny candles, which they would light tomorrow night for Christmas. Truly, it was one of the most lovely things Gabriel had ever brought home to her, and in the dim illumination from the few candles burning throughout the room, the whole effect from their efforts earlier in the week made for the most romantic atmosphere.

Except, once again, her husband was mysteriously missing.

She missed him, and quite frankly, she was growing more and more annoyed at his vague explanations and his excuses. If there was something wrong between them, if he’d tired of her, she wanted to know more sooner than later and refused to let it drag it out through the holidays. When the sound of a loud, angry argument outside reached her ears, Mary frowned and went to the window. The second she pushed open the pane and leaned a bit out, she recognized Gabriel’s voice, saw him standing on the darkened pavement, but in his black evening attire, it was as if he’d stepped directly from the shadows. And what was more, he argued with the same man from the other day.

What the devil is going on?

“I warned you the last time you showed your face here, Potts, that I would run you off and see you in Newgate for your crimes.” The level of animosity in Gabriel’s tone sent chill bumps over Mary’s skin. “That is no less true now.”

“You know why I’m here, Inspector.” The other man clearly wouldn’t give quarter.

“How dare you think to interrupt my private time with my family, on this night of nights.”

Apparently, the man—Potts—said something heinous or vulgar under his breath, for Gabriel was quick to hit him with a right hook, which Potts quickly returned. He caught her husband on the chin, which sent him staggering backward along the snowflake-dotted pavement.

“Good heavens. This is outside of enough.” Fisting her hands in the skirts of her red velvet gown, Mary hurried from the room. If her husband was in some sort of trouble, she needed to know about it, and if possible, she would help, but he needed to talk to her. Bolting out of the house since most of the staff were preparing to leave for midnight church services, she dashed along the short walkway and then through the wrought iron gate until she reached the site of the commotion on the pavement. “Stop this foolishness at once, both of you.”

Gabriel glanced at her. “Leave it be, Mary.”

Snowflakes drifted through the air in a romantic sort of way which was a direct juxtaposition to the contretemps occurring on the street. “I can’t, and won’t, not while you’re down here arguing so loudly, I heard you in the drawing room.”

Mr. Potts ignored them both. He flew at Gabriel, got off another punch, this time to his gut. “I want what’s mine. You stole him and have cost me coin and time.”

As Mary jumped back, Gabriel pushed the man away. “You are trespassing on this property. This is your last chance before I bind your hands and march you straightaway to the nearest constable—”

Mr. Potts glared and wiped at the blood from his busted lower lip. “Give me back the boy!”

Mary frowned. “I’m sorry, but there is no boy here. We only have a daughter.”

“That’s because he took him!” Mr. Potts pointed a slightly crooked forefinger at Gabriel. “Took him right off the street the other day.”

That made absolutely no sense. “That’s impossible. Mr. Bright is an inspector who works crime scenes and puts criminals into Newgate… if they’re not killed during the course of an investigation. He would never steal anything.”

“Well, he did this time. My boy.”

“He wasn’t yours. You made him steal things for you.” Gabriel threw another punch that connected with Mr. Potts’ gut, which sent him stumbling back.

Of course, the slighter man rushed at Gabriel to throw a right hook that caught the inspector on the chin that nearly had him landing on his arse, but Mary shored him up so that he remained standing on his feet.

“Damn.” Gabriel shook off her touch. With a quick glance at her, he huffed. “Please go inside, Mary. This doesn’t concern you.”

“But—”

“Go.” His tone brooked no argument.

And it sent icy fingers of fear playing down her spine. Whatever was happening here must be serious. Without another word, she left her husband’s side. Once back inside, she slammed the door then returned to the drawing room to stand at the window again, pushing open the glass so she could listen to the remainder of the conversation.

Mr. Potts wasted no time challenging Gabriel. “Give him back. I know he’s in there.”

“Charlie doesn’t belong to you. You have no right to him, and he owes you nothing.” A warning growl had set up in Bright’s voice. Rarely did she have cause to hear that, so this man must have made him extremely mad. “The poor boy hadn’t a cent on him, so you pounced once he became an orphan. You abuse him and starve him.”

The other man shrugged. “It’s my right. I own him.”

“No!” The word echoed off the building. “Children are not property. You used the child, took the coin he made as a climbing boy then forced him to become a thief.”

“I took care of him.”

“You starved him! You kept him in dirty clothes and beat him. That isn’t love.” Gabriel glared. “Charlie will never return to that life, not while I still have breath.” He came toward Mr. Potts, causing the other man to retreat. “If I ever see you in this neighborhood, no matter the capacity, I will take the necessary steps to see you in Newgate, because knowing what you did to the boy? I’ll wager you’ve done twenty times worse to others. And you’re still doing it.”

For the space of a few heartbeats as Mary watched with her heart in her throat, the men stared each other down. Finally, Mr. Potts threw up a hand.

“Bah! There are three other boys that can take Charlie’s place. Wasn’t that good of a boy to begin with. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill you in your sleep.” Then, without a backward glance, the man loped away.

For a second, Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. Then he turned around and raised his attention to the window where she watched. Their gazes connected briefly, but since it was too dark to read his expression, she couldn’t help but wonder about what he was thinking.

Then he came up the short walkway to the townhouse and disappeared from her view.

Because she was frightened and a bit annoyed with him—had been for a few days—immediately when he came into the drawing room, she flew at him, intending to take him to task.

“What the devil was that about?” she demanded in a low voice. It wouldn’t do to alarm the members of the staff that had chosen to remain behind instead of going to church services.

“Mary, please.” He held up a hand while resignation reflected in his eyes. “I do not have the wherewithal to do this. None of it. Not anymore.”

“Do what?” To be fair, he was a bit battered and bloody, but her chest was tight with annoyance and the heat of anger washed over her. “You have been distracted and secretive all week, and I refuse to let you continue in this vein.”

A long-suffering sigh escaped him. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m done with it.” He held her gaze, yet there was an odd light of hope in his dark eyes. “Yes, I have been keeping a secret from you this week. A rather large one.”

“Oh?” Tears rushed to her eyes, and she blinked them back. “Are you leaving me?”

“What?” Confusion crossed his expression. “No, of course not.” When he rubbed a hand along the side of his face, he winced when his fingers encountered the bruising skin. “The secret was to be a surprise for tomorrow. A gift for you, Mary. To make our family complete.”

“I don’t understand.” Confusion ran riot in her mind. “But first you look a fright. Those lacerations and contusions need tending to.” She crossed the room then gave a hard yank to the bell pull. “I require a better explanation, though. It has been a trying week.”

“Agreed. It has.”

She frowned and lifted an eyebrow. “Well?”

Another sigh escaped him. “The other day when Henry and I were shopping, we had cause to rescue a climbing boy—a child who crawls through chimneys to clean them—from being beaten and threatened by a handcart vendor. He’d stolen a bun and an apple from the man because he was starving.”

“What?” Before she could say more, a footman came to the door, and she swiftly requested a basin of water and rags to clean the inspector’s wounds.

“It’s true.” As he wandered over to one of the low sofas, Gabriel shed his tailcoat and dropped it over the back of a chair. Then, with another wince, he removed his waistcoat. Cuffs, collar, and cravat followed, and that length of cloth flopped over the side of the chair like a discarded snake. “So, because I couldn’t bear to have the constable take the boy away just to have Charlie dumped in an orphanage or put into a dreadful workhouse, I took the him home with me.”

“There is a child here, in this house?” How had she been so unaware of this whole operation?

“Yes. He’s been here for a few days, living in the kitchen, until tomorrow.”

In shock, she stared at her husband as if she’d never seen him before. Then the footman returned with the requested supplies, and she thanked him with a nod. Without being able to find the appropriate words, she motioned her husband over to the sofa she dropped onto, and when she took a length of linen in hand, she dipped it into the water. Gabriel perched on the sofa cushion beside her, looking all the world like a man beaten down from life.

“That man from outside, he has something to do with the boy, then?”

“Yes.” He winced when she dabbed the wet fabric at the wounds on his face. “Apparently, he was the man who used the climbing boys, turned them into thieves, and when they didn’t do his bidding or bring him the treasures he wanted, he beat them, starved them, kept them in deplorable conditions.”

“That’s terrible. No wonder you wanted to rescue the child.” In silence, she continued to clean his battered face the best she could. There were so many questions, but she couldn’t focus her thoughts. To think her husband had brought a child into their home without telling her? She didn’t understand that. “Will that Mr. Potts come back for the boy?”

“I rather doubt it” Gabriel snorted. Slowly, he rolled up his shirt sleeves to the elbow. “He cares nothing for Charlie; only worked him until he’d become useless.” When he took her hand and stilled her ministrations so he could hold her gaze, he said, “It happens so many times all over London. I couldn’t bear to see him go to a workhouse or fall into the clutches of a man like him again.” He shrugged. “That is why I have gone forward with plans to adopt him as we did with Cassandra.”

And why he’d told her the boy would complete their family. Unshed tears climbed her throat, but she swallowed around that ball. “You’re a good man, Bright.” At least the mystery was solved.

Partially.

“I try.” He gave her a wry grin. “I’m sorry I kept it from you, and believe me, it wasn’t easy. I merely wished to give you a surprise gift.”

She dropped the soiled linen strips into the bowl then focused the whole of her attention on his dear, battered face. “What sort of boy is he?”

“Oh, Mary, he’s so clever and curious. The most soulful brown eyes you’ve ever seen.” His whole face lit as he spoke. “A mop of brown hair that we’ve had cut and washed. Appreciates everything Cook gives him, and from what I understand, he’s run Mrs. Pearson ragged with questions and things to keep him busy. Pushing whole cloves into oranges, for one.”

“Ah.” Bits and pieces were beginning to fall into place and explain Gabriel’s odd behavior.

“Charlies is a year younger than Cassandra.” Excitement shown in his eyes. “From all accounts, he lost his parents two years or so ago in a fire that took down a set of row houses. I went back through some records at Whitehall to confirm the story.”

“How horrible! Just the fact he survived and then was put into the care of someone like Mr. Potts? I can’t fathom it.”

“Well, Charlie is scrappy. He’s got great determination and even greater willpower.” Then his expression went soft. “I like him, Mary. He’s smart and he’s funny. He’s hungry for love; he needs us, needs parents, needs a home and a purpose. Yes, he will require proper schooling and tutors, but we can provide everything for him, just as we did for Cassandra.”

The rest of her reserve fell away and broke into a thousand pieces. Gabriel was so adorable in his enthusiasm. “You feel about him like I felt about Cassandra when I saw her on the street, and you couldn’t help but take him in to nurture him.”

“Yes. That’s exactly it.”

She nodded and pressed her lips together. This was… extraordinary and she didn’t quite know what to think. “What if he steals from us and runs away?”

“Then I’ll keep going after him, reassuring him that he’s wanted until he believes it, but I think that knowing Cassandra’s been with us for a while and she was the same might help him.” Then he winked. “I’m quite familiar with being stubborn enough to remind certain people in this family they are wanted, valued, and loved. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes.” Heat invaded her cheeks, for he spoke of her. “Do you promise you aren’t having an affair?”

“Oh, sweeting.” The grin he gave her warmed her from head to toe. “I promise. You are the only woman who has my heart, and I don’t need anyone else.” Before she could say anything, he tugged her into his arms and simply held her.”

A shuddering sigh escaped her, for she had missed this sort of honesty and closeness, missed him, so she hung onto him a bit longer than necessary. Finally, she pulled back to search his face with her gaze. “Where is he?”

“Been staying in the kitchens until tomorrow morning. Mrs. Pearson is looking after him. Davies had much to say about it, but eventually the boy brought him around.”

“It sounds as if the child is as charming as you.”

“I don’t know about that.” But his grin widened as he gained his feet. “Would you like to see him? He’s no doubt sleeping and I don’t want to disturb him.” He held out a hand.

“I do.” When she slipped her fingers into his palm, he pulled her to a standing position. Excitement buzzed at the base of her spine. “Do you think we can care for two children? And what of Henry?”

“We shall discover that together, but Henry is quite enthusiastic about having another sibling.” As he spoke, Gabriel led her from the room.

Quietly, they made their way down to the basement where the kitchen was located. Since only the two maids and the butler lived in, the housekeeper had set up a cot near the stove. It was clear she’d been staying over to take care of the boy.

“Oh, Mrs. Pearson, you are just a gem of a woman,” Mary whispered as she approached the housekeeper with tears in her eyes. “You’ve forgone all the holiday things with your own family.”

“It was a privilege to do this for the inspector. He was so excited to have this Christmastide surprise for you.” The older woman’s smile could light up the night.

Then Mary peered beyond the housekeeper’s cot and saw the boy, sleeping on a pallet near the fireplace. Her heart squeezed. “Dear heavens.” One of her hands pressed against her chest, for he was a slight little thing with a mop of chestnut hair, just as Gabriel had said. And in the little night shirt and the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, he was like a fallen angel. “How is it possible that he resembles you?”

“I don’t know about that.” Yet there was pleasure in his hushed reply, and pride shone in his eyes, illuminated by the fire. “I meant to have him outfitted and hair styled to present to you and Cassandra tomorrow like a little man.”

Her heart felt as if it was growing. “He’s lovely.”

“He rather is, and he’s a quick learner. The governess will teach him for a bit with Cassandra. When he’s comfortable, we can send him to school or keep on with tutors here.” For long moments, they watched the boy sleep, then Gabriel turned to her. “Are you angry with me?”

“Not anymore, not now that you’ve explained.” She softly smacked his shoulder as tears fell to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you let me know what you were doing this week? I thought the worst of you.” And she felt wretched about herself for that.

“I wanted to make you happy and to surprise you this Christmastide. It’s the anniversary of when we met and I…”

“Yes?” She could hardly speak due to the emotions crowding her throat and chest.

“I will never stop loving you, Mary. I wake up every damned day in gratitude because you’re mine and you’ve changed my life, changed Henry’s and Cassandra’s. I want you to change Charlie’s too.”

She nodded, and wiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “Because you want a son?”

“I already have a son, but now I want you to have a son as well.”

“Oh, Gabriel.” It was useless to wipe away the tears, for they insisted on continuing.

His grin was this side of cheeky. “Because you already work with the indigent poor, you will be able to connect with him in a way I never could.”

“I hope so. Already, I’m infatuated with him, and all he’s done is sleep.” She looked at the child again. “Everyone deserves a second chance at this life. It is something I have learned for myself since knowing you.”

“I fully agree with the sentiment.” When he slipped an arm about her waist, he drew her close. “Charles—Charlie—Bright has a lovely ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Oh, how wonderful was this man she’d married? She pressed her trembling lips together as she laid her head on his shoulder. “Your father would be so proud of you, Gabriel. And your mother would have enjoyed meeting our… children.” She nodded as her mind spun with the implications of this boy. “Our children.” Never did she think this would be her lot, after her horrid first marriage.

“I think so, too. On both counts.” He rested his head on hers. “You’ll let Charlie stay?”

“Of course I will. I can’t wait to meet him.” A half-stifled sob escaped her. “Thank you for this surprise.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Then he bundled her in his arms and held her as they watched the boy sleep.

Mary smiled. As her gaze met Mrs. Pearson’s, she mouthed the words “thank you” then urged the woman back to sleep. “Ah, Gabriel, we should retire. I am tired and cold. It’s been an exhausting week worrying about what you were really doing.”

“It wasn’t just me. Henry is as guilty. It was his idea to keep the boy a secret.”

She chuckled, and it felt lovely to be so happy again. “Somehow, I think you had a hand in convincing him.”

“Perhaps.”

Eventually, they left the kitchen. She took his hand and led him toward the stairs. “Will you come upstairs? I want to be rested for tomorrow.”

“Are you certain you aren’t cross with me?”

“No, truly. You have a good heart and are a prince among men. How could I ever be angry with that?” As they climbed the stairs, she continued. “It sometimes frightens me how happy I’ve been since October when we wed. Even before then. It’s almost as if I’m waiting for someone to come along and steal that from me.”

“That will never happen, not while I’m around.” He squeezed her fingers with his. “You and I have worked hard to build this life, sweeting. It’s ours, and I will protect that with everything that I am.”

“So will I.” Another round of tears fell to her cheeks. “Thank you, Gabriel. I am forever grateful for you and what you continually do to make me happy, to ensure I feel wanted, cherished—loved.” What a watering pot she’d become, and all because of this wonderful man. “The children can only benefit from your being their father.”

Truly, having Charlie in their lives, being given a son to go along with her daughter, was the best Christmastide gift she’d ever been given.