“By the way, Roger…” Nell’s tone sharpened. “You rather jumped the gun, didn’t you? I hadn’t agreed to marry you. I only said I’d think about it. That didn’t give you the right to claim yourself my fiancé, especially to my own family.”
She wasn’t engaged? But she was thinking about it? Tom’s heartbeat stuttered as waves of unwanted emotion crashed over him—relief, hope, fear, despair—one after another.
“I’m sorry.” Genuine contrition filled the man’s tone. “I just thought that if I were traveling with you, it might be less damaging to your reputation if we were engaged. And, well, it also occurred to me your brother might be less likely to shoot me on sight.”
Nell chuckled. “You’re probably right about that. You’re forgiven.”
Even Tom had to acknowledge the logic of the man’s reasoning.
“Besides,” Roger said, “you went along with it. So I suppose I was right in the end.”
“I guess you were,” Nell said, testing the feel of her idea as she spoke the words. “I think we are engaged. I’m not ready to marry yet, though. I hope you understand that I need some time.”
“I’d rather marry tomorrow,” Braithwaite said. “But if you want a long engagement, I suppose I’ll take what I can get.”
Ah, shite, the poor bugger was in love with her. That was good, right? As long as she felt the same? Hell, Tom was no expert. They were really betrothed? An ache centered itself at the base of his skull and it had nothing to do with the rough gait of his rented horse.
“Good gracious, I’m engaged to be married. That’s quite another shock for today. You know, my family is going to be thrilled to meet you. Right, Tommy-boy?” Nell didn’t even raise her voice, letting him know she was aware he was in earshot.
“Whatever you say, Nelly-belly.” He sucked in a breath and managed to keep his voice light. Even before his fall from grace, Tom had known, somewhere in his soul, that he didn’t deserve Nell. He’d done dark things back in Wapping to survive, and later, even as a Knight, he’d fought and killed. Nell was too kind and empathetic to be stained by all that. Hopefully Braithwaite deserved her. Otherwise Tom might have to kill him. “Welcome to the family, old chap.”
“Thank you.” Braithwaite chuckled. “I guess you weren’t kidding about his hearing.”
“Afraid not.” Nell laughed, a glorious, silvery melody spiraling through the night. “Just wait until you meet the rest of the family.”
“Hope he’s not easily frightened,” Tom muttered.
“I heard that, you wretch.” Nell laughed again and turned back to her swain. “Although he has a point. We’re an odd bunch, Roger. Are you sure you want to get tangled up with us? It’s not too late to turn around.”
“Like you, love, I’m tougher than I look. My own line has a few black sheep in it.” Braithwaite seemed utterly unflappable. Tom began to feel a grudging respect for the mild-mannered teacher.
“Ah, but what about pink-and-purple paisley sheep?” Tom wasn’t a wordsmith, but the expression was one Caroline had used to describe the odd coalition they called family.
Braithwaite chuckled. “That just means our life will never be dull. Every day will be an adventure.” The man was starting to sound like a bloody saint.
“As long as he doesn’t mind a few ghosts hanging around,” Tom muttered so only Nell would hear. Somehow he didn’t think she’d mentioned that to her beau.
“Shut it!” she whispered back. “Let’s all just focus on finding Charlie, shall we?”
“We’ll make some telephone calls from Black Heath,” Tom said. “We’ll get someone at headquarters working the data files overnight. They can also get a request out to watch for a couple with a young blind boy to the inns, train stations and so on.” He assumed Roger knew he worked for the Home Office. The trick would be to not reveal too much about the Order until they were sure of the man.
“That will help,” Nell agreed. “What would help even more is knowing why. I can’t help but wonder… Papa said there were children, gifted children, missing from around London. Is it possible this is connected? Are gifted children being taken from all over England?”
“I have no idea,” Tom said. “It seems an awful stretch that the same villain would find a boy all the way down in Cornwall. Still, I suppose it bears looking into.” At this point he’d take any possible lead he could find. In nine years this was the first inkling he’d found of a boy who could be his son. Nothing, not even his complicated feelings for Nell, could get in the way of that.
As they rode on through the night, Nell explained to Braithwaite about various family members and friends, including who and what to expect when they reached Black Heath. Tom listened with half an ear. Could Charlie Berrycloth/Barrowclough really be his son? If so, how would he react to learning he had a father? Would he welcome Tom, or resent him for the years the boy had spent as an orphan?
A knot formed in Tom’s stomach when he remembered Charlie’s handicap. What had caused his blindness? Nell hadn’t said. Was it something hereditary? Tom knew little about his own origins, except that such a thing likely didn’t come from the Deveres. His mother, Lucy Porter, hadn’t had any vision problems, but Tom had no idea about her parents or even if she’d had any siblings. He knew even less about his missing wife and her background. Not that it mattered. Blind or not, the boy would have every opportunity that could be afforded to the son of a baronet. Tom would make sure of that, and he knew he’d have the Order’s backing. Of course, Charlie would likely not ever be a Knight—fighting vampyres was hard enough with sight—but he would have the baronetcy. A title, even Sir, could make up for a lot of other issues when it came to society. Maybe the boy would be a musician, as Nell had suggested, or maybe he’d find some other place in life. Whatever he chose, he’d never have to be alone again. That much Tom vowed.
And if Charlie wasn’t his son? Well, that was a bridge to be crossed later. As Nell’s protégée, the lad would still have advantages. One way or another, it would all be sorted out.
Now all they had to do was find him.
* * *
Nell yawned as they turned onto the lane for Black Heath. It had been a long, slow, chilly ride, but the promise of hot tea and a warm bed was now in sight. And explanations. She’d also have to telephone Mum. If Caroline found out about Nell’s engagement to Roger any other way than directly from Nell, there would be hell to pay. It would be worth the inconvenience of a few calls, though. Letting Roger tag along provided a great buffer between Tom and Nell. Besides, a long engagement would give her the chance to see how compatible they were.
Black Heath loomed on a cliff-top, dark and foreboding. No gaslights burned on the lower floors, so Tom led the others around the house directly to the stable. A sleepy groom met their knock, then roused the stable master, who escorted them to the kitchen door. Mrs. Ritchie, the housekeeper, saw them in and sent for maids to ready rooms.
“Any trouble with smugglers lately, Mrs. R?” Tom asked as he sipped his tea.
Nell grinned. The question had become routine over the past few years, since both he and Nell had been here when Victor and Melody fought the threat to their lives and those of the villagers. The starchy housekeeper didn’t have much of a sense of humor about an incident that had nearly gotten her killed, but she’d begun to loosen up.
“Not since the last time, Sir Tom.” She started assembling a platter of sliced meat and cheeses. “I do believe they’ve all determined that Black Heath is an unhealthy location for those kinds of activities. The only trouble of late comes from a houseful of youngsters, and that, I believe, we can handle without help from the crown.”
“A houseful?” Nell remembered the date with a sickening lurch. “The guests are already here?”
Tom cocked his head. “What guests?”
“Much of the MacKay family,” Mrs. Ritchie said. “To celebrate the young lord’s birthday. We didn’t expect you until the weekend, Miss Nell. Your sister will be delighted
.”
“Of course.” With her worry over Charlie, Nell had completely forgotten the upcoming party for Victor’s two-year-old heir. “Wink’s here too? With the baby and Liam?” It only made sense. Wink and Melody were the best of friends, both engineers for the Order and both young mothers.
“Sir Liam won’t arrive for a day or two, but Master Theodore is most certainly present.” Mrs. Ritchie’s stern expression bent into something resembling a smile. Wink’s eight-month-old son Teddy was definitely a presence to be noted.
“Any other Hadrians?” Tom asked, running his hand through his hair, a sure sign that he was frazzled.
“Not yet.” The housekeeper continued working while she spoke. “Expecting her ladyship and the little ones tomorrow.”
Nell groaned. Was it just this morning she’d been looking forward to seeing her family? She’d envisioned a nice, relaxing weekend, not a whirlwind of engagement chatter. “God, Tom, let’s keep riding.”
“Too late.” Victor Arrington, Earl of Blackwell, stood in the doorway, a silk smoking jacket on over his trousers and shirt. The former naval captain was an imposing man, almost as tall as Tom, with sandy hair and curly mutton-chops. “Melody will skin me if I let you get away now, so you might as well get some sleep.” He turned his silver-gray gaze to Roger. “And who have we here?”
Nell made the introductions. “Roger is my, um, fiancé.”
Victor didn’t respond to that as he shook Roger’s hand and welcomed him to Black Heath. “Come on into the library. A few of us are awake. Mrs. Ritchie will send along the food and some tea. Although after riding through the night, you may want something stronger.”
Nell, Roger and Tom all muttered their agreement. This was an occasion for fortifying spirits if ever there was one. They followed Victor through the manor, trusting Mrs. Ritchie to be close behind with the sandwiches.
Nell watched Roger’s eyes widen as he walked into a room dominated by a veritable army of tall redheads, all of whom stood when they entered. Roger wasn’t a small man, but all the men in Nell’s world were larger than life, and so were some of the women. Nell’s sister, Winifred Hadrian McCullough, cried Nell’s name and launched herself off a sofa to enfold Nell in her arms. Afterward, she gave Tom a thump on the shoulder. “Thought you were working. What are you doing here?”
“He is helping me find a missing student.” Nell raised her voice and put just a touch of compulsion into it. It wasn’t playing fair to use her power, but neither was being the only tiny person in a room full of giants. “Now everyone settle down. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
The others went quiet and backed away enough for Nell to see all their faces. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Mr. Roger Braithwaite, of Sussex, once a soldier, until recently a teacher at the Glenbury School and now a landowner—and my future husband.”
Roger took the hand Nell extended toward him and gave a small bow to the company. “Delighted to meet all of you.” He looked helplessly at Nell for introductions.
“I should start in order of rank, which would mean Victor, because he’s the earl,” Nell said. “But in this case, I’d like you to meet my sister first. Winifred, Lady McCullough.”
Wink studied Roger from head to toe as if he were an insect pinned to a board, but she smiled warmly and took his hand. “Call me Wink, please. It’s wonderful to meet you, Roger. Nell’s happiness matters so much to all of us.”
“As it should.” Roger smiled back, showing more spine than Nell had originally given him credit for. “I plan to do everything in my power to ensure her happiness for the rest of my days.”
“Now—” Nell couldn’t quite feel comfortable with such blatant declarations, especially not yet, when it was so new. “The rest of this bunch belong to the MacKay clan, in one form or another. Again, in order of connection rather than rank, may I please present Tom’s closest friend, Sir Connor MacKay. Then this is Connor’s older sister, Geneva, Baroness Findlay and their father, Sir Fergus MacKay, who’s a colleague of Papa’s.” Fergus and Connor were two peas in a pod—both imposing, powerful men with piercing blue eyes and dark red hair—though Fergus’s was streaked with a liberal amount of silver. Geneva was not quite as tall, but had the dark red hair and a sturdy figure. “And finally, your host, the Earl of Blackwell. Victor is married to Connor’s twin, Melody. I take it she and the others are already asleep?”
Roger mouthed Others? with a fleeting look of dread.
Victor chuckled. “Aye. Melody is expecting again so she’s always tired, and her mother went up with her. Belinda was just exhausted after wrangling the twins with Connor on the airship trip here.”
Melody could see Roger mentally counting, his face paling at the sheer numbers.
“I suggested tying them to their seats, but she wouldn’t listen,” Connor said with a wry grin. He poured whisky for Tom and Roger, and a sherry for Nell. “So of course they kept us both running after them the whole time we were in the air. Thank the gods it was a closed viewing deck. If it had been open, I would have tied them down.”
Victor shuddered. “I don’t envy you twins, old man. One at a time is difficult enough.”
“Just remember that it runs in the family,” his father-in-law reminded him. “You married a twin. You’re not out of the woods yet.”
Victor took a long pull from his drink. “I know.”
Geneva sighed. “At least there were two of you. I had to cope on my own.” Her husband Magnus rarely traveled from their home in the Hebrides.
“Likewise,” Wink said. “I know I only have one offspring, but I hate traveling without Liam. I can never seem to sleep if I’m by myself.”
During this good-natured chatter, Tom pulled back away from the main group, leaning alone against a bookshelf on the far wall. Always able to sense his feelings to some degree, Nell wanted to weep for his heartbreak. All their friends were happily, blissfully even, married, with oodles of toddlers and babies on the way. Tom had a wife, one he’d married in good faith, but he didn’t even know if she lived, let alone have the kind of relationship Wink or any of the MacKay siblings had. And not knowing if he had a child… It was no wonder he’d become so withdrawn in the past few years.
Roger squeezed her hand. “If we’re going to be back on the hunt in the morning, we should probably get some sleep.”
Nell looked over at Tom, who waved her off. “Go on. I’ll fill them in and see if anyone has any ideas.” A fair amount of Order talent was gathered right in this room. It would be stupid to waste it. But suddenly the weight of the whole situation crashed in on Nell and she wanted to curl up in a ball and whimper.
“I am tired.” She withdrew her hand from Roger’s. “Come on. I imagine Mrs. Ritchie has left someone to point us to our rooms.”
In fact, the housekeeper herself waited by the stairs, along with a footman. “We’re a little tight for space, Mr. Braithwaite, so I have you sharing with Sir Tom, if that’s all right?”
“That’s fine,” Roger said. “Last I knew, I didn’t snore.” He followed the footman up the stairs and to the left.
Nell couldn’t say anything. Tom’s secrets weren’t hers to share, not with Roger or Victor’s staff, though since they’d been revealed here three years earlier, Nell was surprised Mrs. Ritchie didn’t already know that Nell had once harbored hopes of marrying Tom. Or maybe she did and simply didn’t see any awkwardness in throwing the two men together. Either way, there was nothing to be done. Nell followed Mrs. Ritchie to one of the smallest guestrooms, close to the nursery on the third floor, and refused the offer of a maid to help her undress. Schoolteachers didn’t have ladies’ maids, so all Nell’s current clothing was designed with that in mind. She indulged in the softest, most sumptuous fabrics she could manage, but of course everything she wore was in the school’s preferred colors of dark blue, brown or gray. What would Roger think if he saw her in her favorite coral evening gown? She smiled as she smoothed down her nightgown and crawled into the single b
ed. A warm fire crackled softly, and mounds of quilts enfolded her, warming her chilled hands and feet. Mrs. Ritchie was too good a housekeeper to forget that Nell was always cold.
“Mama, sometimes I wish you were here,” she whispered into the empty room. For years, the ghost of her birth mother had stayed by her side, helping Nell and her half brother Piers survive. Once the Hadrians had adopted them, Fanny Jenkins had passed through the veil, or been promoted, or whatever happened to ghosts once their unfinished business was done. Nell had missed her, but never quite as much as now, when they had so little to go on to find Charlie. Nell couldn’t explain why this one student had touched her so deeply that she’d given up her position to find him, but she simply knew, in her heart, that this was something she had to do.
Maybe, she told herself, it was Mama’s ghost guiding her. Or maybe it was just something she needed to do for Tom, before she’d truly be free to find happiness somewhere else. She slept deeply, but restlessly, her dreams filled with Tom’s sad eyes and a small boy’s voice crying out for help.
* * *
Tom buttoned his trousers then quietly picked up his coat and shoes, just as dawn tinted the sky. Better to be out of the room before Braithwaite awoke. The mathematics teacher seemed like a nice enough chap. It wasn’t his fault that Tom continually wanted to eviscerate him. He had property and an income. Most importantly, he genuinely seemed to care for Nell. Therefore, Tom needed to find the boy as quickly as possible and get the hell away from Nell and her fiancé.
He slipped out of the room, finished dressing and made his way downstairs. Victor and Connor, also early risers, shared the breakfast table, while Victor’s butler and former first mate, Barnaby Hatch, hastily stood at Tom’s approach.
Tom waved his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Hatch. You’re not going to offend me.”
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