Autumn Means Marriage… and Murder (Mary and Bright #3)

Chapter Eight

By the time the wedding breakfast ended, and the last guest left the townhouse, it was one o’clock. Mary covered a yawn with her hand, for she’d only slept perhaps two hours in the last twenty-four, but the breakfast had been a lively affair, and it had been lovely to catch up with her brother. She didn’t visit as often since he was often out of the country.

“What now?” she asked of him as they climbed the stairs together. What she truly wanted was to soak in a nice, long bath and perhaps finish reading the novel she’d recently acquired from the lending library, take a nap, and then, if she was fortunate and he was willing, they would share a satisfying romp in the sheets—consummate their marriage.

“Well, if you’re up for it, I thought we might pay a visit to the boarding house where Miss Kessler lived, perhaps talk to her landlady, make inroads into forming a list of suspects.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s been a bit since we’ve both been in the field together, and I’m willing to take up the challenge if you are.”

Never had he not considered her his partner in everything. “I would be delighted, but first I will need to change my clothes. I’d rather not dirty this gown, and secondly, you need to promise me a visit to a tea house. I have a feeling we’ll both need the refresher before too long.”

“That can easily be arranged.” He opened the door to their shared suite, let her go inside ahead of him, and then followed her, closing the panel behind them. “Ah, Jameson. This is my wife, Mrs. Mary Bright.”

Cold disappointment twisted through her belly, for they wouldn’t have time to tease each other during undressing and changing, but she pasted a smile on her lips and nodded at his valet. “I have heard much about you.”

“As I have you, Mrs. Bright.” The man flashed a grin and tightened his grip on the head of his cane. His blond-brown hair had been fashioned into the latest style, and it was obvious he took great care in the clothes that he wore. “Congratulations on your nuptials.”

“Thank you.” When her maid Maggie came into the room with several dresses in her arms, Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “I shall undress in the bedchamber; Bright can have the dressing room.”

Taking the hint, Maggie shooed the men from the room then closed the adjoining door. She turned about with a smile. “You were a lovely bride this morning, Mrs. Bright.”

It would take a bit to acclimate to the new surname. “I felt beautiful.” That was due to her husband’s influence. He told her that all the time, where her first husband rarely said it. “I’m going out with the inspector to work a case, so I’ll need a dress that is plain, sturdy, and won’t show dirt in the event we need to crawl about in the search for clues.”

“You don’t need to do that any longer; you’ve brought him up to scratch, and he is a viscount’s son.” Maggie tsked her tongue as she went through the garments she’d brought into the room. “You are a member of the beau monde now. Why not enjoy that elevation? For the first time in your life, you can be a lady of leisure.”

“As if I know how to be that.” She pointed to a dress of robin egg’s blue lawn. “I’ll wear that one. It’s a wonderful color, and I feel confident when I wear it.”

“Brilliant hues are wonderful on you.” Then she began the task of helping Mary out of the wedding gown. “Will you and the inspector go on a honeymoon trip?”

“I am not certain.” In fact, she hadn’t thought much about it. Since they brought Cassandra into their family, she liked to remain at the townhouse. Once a day, she visited the girl and a couple of times a week they took tea together .

“That is the true scandal, Mrs. Bright. You need to let that handsome inspector of yours take you away so you can do unspeakable things to each other.” Then she whisked the ivory gown to the bed and laid it carefully down to prevent more wrinkling.

Heat went through Mary’s cheeks. Though she and Gabriel enjoyed a healthy physical relationship, when he didn’t wish to spend the night with her last night, it had shaken her confidence, but that didn’t stop her from waking up this morning thinking about just that. “I will discuss it with him at dinner.” She toed out of her slippers, for she would wear half-boots when she went out on investigation.

“I’m happy for you.” Maggie brought over the blue dress and then helped Mary into the garment. “This always looks lovely on you.”

Mary smoothed her hands along the front of the simple dress. “I think there is an ivory pelisse with the same-colored lining as the dress somewhere.”

“I know the one. I’ll send it and the bonnet down to Davies.”

“Thank you.” She moved behind a painted silk screen to take care of necessary bodily functions.

“Will you be expected back by dinner?”

“That depends on how the investigation goes, but I can tentatively say yes.” Afterward, she washed her hands in the basin of water and patted a bit of the cool water on her overheated cheeks.

“Shall I set out the new nightwear set you ordered for tonight?”

Mary came out from around the screen. “Yes, please. It will be my wedding night, after all.” Two months ago, she’d ordered the peignoir set of light blue nearly sheer silk lined with thin strips of white rabbit fur. It was a decadent mix of froth and sensuality.

Then the connecting door opened, and Gabriel came into the bedchamber. This was the man she’d fallen in love with, this highly confident inspector clad in buff-colored breeches, barely scuffed boots, cravat done in a simple knot, brown tweed waistcoat, and a jacket of bottle green superfine with his hair in a devil-may-care style, resisting the taming of the pomade he’d used previously.

“Are you decent, Mrs. Bright?”

A thrill twisted down her spine, for she wanted to be anything but. “Well, that all depends on public opinion, doesn’t it?” she couldn’t help but quip, for he was just so charming.

“You know how I feel about gossip.” He winked at Maggie. “I’m going to steal her away from you. We have a case to investigate.”

“Good luck, Inspector.” Maggie shared a speaking glance at Mary, who couldn’t help her own grin .

Perhaps the past would stay buried in the past.

When the closed carriage arrived at the Berwick Street slum, there was already quite a pungent odor of livestock excrement in the air. It was the prominent smell, and perhaps it was a blessing that it masked all the other foul scents that would ordinarily permeate the surroundings.

“Did you know that the Berwick Street slum is bounded on the north by Cock Court, on the west by New Street, on the south by Husband Street, and on the east by Hopkins Street?”

“I did, actually.” Mary nodded. “This is one of the neighborhoods where I bring bread, blankets, and other supplies.” She glanced out the window at the buildings crowded close to each other. “Remarkably, the district is quite large and comes within Grosvenor Street by a seventh of a mile, so more well-off folks don’t need to walk far to see a completely different way of life.”

One would think it would humble them and usher in change within parliament, but that simply wasn’t the case.

Gabriel frowned as he, too, glanced out the window from his bench. “The good thing—if there is such a thing for these people who reside here—is that the streets are in better condition over, say the Dials due to their proximity to the St. James area.”

“True.” She’d visited this place many a time and in different degrees of weather. Though there were a few streets that had sewer gutters running down the middle, that wasn’t true of all the streets in the slum, which meant far less disease. “One of the better positives here is that the houses are not as crowded and don’t lean over the street blocking the sunlight.”

“It still puts my own life into harsh perspective.”

“I agree. I often wonder what would have become of me if Benjamin hadn’t died when he did. If he’d continued drinking, gambling, and whoring, would we have lost everything and ended up living in a house somewhere in a neighborhood like this?”

He slid his gaze to hers. Compassion sparkled there. “But that is not what happened. He died, and you escaped that hold.”

“So I would like to hope, yet my past keeps rearing its ugly head.” Then she turned her head and once more contemplated the street as they passed.

There was more carriage and horse traffic in this neighborhood due to its proximity to the fashionable bustle of St. James. As such, there was more apt to be a constable around if a crime was committed. They tended to not want the darker side of life to drift over to the more affluent sections of Mayfair.

“Don’t go there, sweeting. No good comes from dwelling on it.”

“Perhaps.”

People with hand carts sold various items on the pavement in front of the buildings that faced Berwick Street—vegetables, shoes, other foodstuffs, and all manner of used items, which sometimes included “cleaned” sheaths for men to prevent pregnancy. Public houses and taverns dotted more than a few corners, and each one catered to a different demographic.

As the carriage turned on Cock Street to access Husband Street, many of the houses and buildings here had dilapidated, smoky, moldy appearances. Some of the houses had boards over windows that were either broken or missing entirely. And if you were lucky enough to have a broken window, sometimes the owners mended them with paper.

Yet the streets teemed with life, and there was the sound of childish laughter that reached her ears as they continued their journey. As she kept her gaze on the picture beyond the carriage, Mary sighed. So much hope as well as despair resided here. Some of the houses had a shop front in the street level floor. In these shop fronts, there was often a costermonger or an ironmonger at work. One made a living however and wherever one could.

There was a confusing network of lanes and courts that branched off Berwick Street that were more like narrowed passages with little space between buildings. These streets were often strewn with decayed vegetables. More often than not, Irish was spoken more frequently than English depending on which street or court one happened to visit, but at least there was a sense of community, and everyone here was working toward a common goal—survival and making a better life for themselves and their families. But even more unfortunately, the houses were crowded, sometimes containing as many as three or four families, with rooms no bigger than a closet crammed with far too many beds.

Then the carriage made another turn onto Husband Street, and the odor of livestock grew even more unappealing, for there was a cow house nearby that contained anywhere from ten to thirty cows at the time. A space in the cow house was also given over to the keeping of pigs. Which meant the houses in Husband Street backed up to the cow house and their windows opened out toward it.

A number of shop fronts on the bottom floors of several of the smaller street side buildings offered a wide array of used women’s clothing. These garments were pawned by the owners on a regular basis for a few coins to pay for a drink or two at one of the public houses. Sometimes the owners redeemed their clothing, but most of the time, they didn’t. At which point, the pawn shop owner could sell those items for his own profit. Or the more shrewd ones sold the clothes for rags or even had them carted off and sold to a paper maker.

That was life in the slums, and there was always a maudlin story as well as someone profiting off them.

“There are some days I am just not in the correct frame of mind to visit these neighborhoods, but I like to remind myself of their existence. It gives me more gratitude for what I have in my own life.” Still, a shiver went down Mary’s spine; there were far worse areas in London than this.

“You are a good woman, and that heart of yours is one of the reasons that drew me to you.” Gabriel leaned over and touched a gloved hand to her knee. “With luck, this errand should go quickly.”

Soon after, the vehicle came to a halt. It rocked as the driver jumped from his perch, and then the door opened, and he put the steps down.

As Gabriel exited the carriage, he spoke to the driver. “We will not be long, Bob. I can’t imagine even being here a half hour, so mind the carriage from thieves.”

“I will, of course. You stay vigilant, Inspector.”

He nodded as he assisted Mary from the conveyance. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone except the landlady, and don’t stop to talk to anyone,” he cautioned her in a low voice as they walked swiftly up to the scuffed and scratched door.

“Don’t worry, Bright. I have taken care of myself without you by my side.” But she smiled to herself. At times she enjoyed his protective instincts.

A harried-looking housekeeper answered their knock, and upon hearing that they wanted to speak with the landlady, she took them to a parlor that hosted threadbare carpets and dusty draperies. The color once upon a time must have been pink but was now a dingy grayish rose from years of use.

Not long afterward, a matronly woman entered the room wearing a dress as dated as the décor. Her salt and pepper brown hair had been scraped back into a severe bun, but her eyes were bright and sharp, and she looked down her hawk-like nose at them both.

“I’m Mrs. Harris, the owner of this house, and I ain’t got no rooms available, especially for the likes of you. ”

Apparently, she was a no-nonsense businesswoman, but Mary frowned. “We are not here to ask for a room to let. In fact, we are here about one of your tenants.”

“Oh? Who is it?”

It was Gabriel’s turn to frown. “Hallo, Mrs. Harris. I am Inspector Bright, and this is Mrs. Bright. We are here to investigate the murder of Miss Theresa Kessler.”

“That one.” The woman waved a hand and blew out a breath. “She wasn’t a good tenant.”

“You don’t seem sorry to hear that she has been murdered.” He pulled his leatherbound notebook from a pocket of his greatcoat. “Why is that?”

“Always had people visiting.”

“What sort of people?” Mary asked as above them the sounds of an argument broke out.

The landlady shrugged. “Men, mostly even though I don’t allow such goings on. Once a wealthy nob came by looking for her, but she was out. Another time, a midwife came to see her.”

“A midwife? That is odd. Was she with child?”

“How would I know? I rarely talked to her. If you really want to know about her, talk to the gentleman she was servicing. Probably over in Mayfair.”

Mary tamped on the urge to sigh. “Did he ever leave a name?”

“A Lord Someone or other. I never paid attention. Always left a calling card, flashy so as he’d be noticed.”

Gabriel exchanged a speaking glance with Mary. “No doubt it was her last protector. Did Miss Kessler have any friends?”

“Not that I could say. She weren’t that likable of a person.” Mrs. Harris huffed. “Male acquaintances, sure, but female friends? I only saw one come visit a few times.”

What a frustrating interrogation. Mary softly cleared her throat. “Do you remember her name?”

“You ask too many questions.” The other woman screwed up her face, which didn’t help in the way of her looks. “A Miss Gannett, I think. Member of the demimonde, down on her luck daughter of a peer, I seem to remember. Came before that midwife.”

“We shall find her.” Gabriel nodded and scribbled in his notebook. “Might we see Miss Kessler’s room?”

“I already rented it out to someone else.”

“What?” Mary’s eyebrows rose with surprise. “The woman only died last night.”

“But she ain’t been here for a month. Rent’s late and she didn’t pay for this month.”

Gabriel frowned. “Where are her things? ”

“I kept what I wanted. Figured it was the least I could do since she owed me. The rest I threw out. Weren’t worth keeping anyway.”

This line of inquiry had obviously come to an end. There was nothing else they could do. Mary nodded. “Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Harris. I appreciate it.”

The landlady frowned. “Don’t know why you’re wasting your time with her. Dead is dead, and that one was heading for disaster anyway with her lifestyle. I say good riddance. Just like all the rest of the whores who work the streets here.”

“Everyone means something to someone,” Bright said as he tucked his notebook and pencil back into a pocket. “She deserves justice.”

“Ain’t anyone missing her, I’ll wager. If there were, she wouldn’t have been here.”

Unfortunately, that was a true statement.

With nothing else to do, she and Gabriel left the house and walked back to the carriage. Directly after he handed her into the vehicle, a courier on horseback came over to them in the street and handed him an envelope.

He vaulted into the carriage, and as Bob put up the steps and closed the door, he ripped open the envelope. “Well, damn.”

“What is it?” A sinking feeling took possession of her belly.

“This is from the constable from last night. There has been another death, in the same fashion as Miss Kessler’s.”

“At the opera house?”

“Not exactly. On one of the walkways in Covent Garden.” He tucked the note into a pocket of his great coat. “We need to investigate.”

“But we were going to visit a tea house.” If she was a bit cross, she had every right to be.

“Well, we shall be in that area, and you know I must find out if the death is connected to Miss Kessler’s.”

He was nothing if not thorough.

“Fine, but I will wait in the carriage. I don’t want my wedding day marred by seeing a dead body.”

“Fair enough.” Bright rapped on the roof of the carriage. “Covent Garden.”

After an hour, wherein Mary passed the time by enjoying a quick and much-needed nap, her new husband returned to the vehicle. She woke from her doze when the carriage door slammed closed.

“How bad was it?” she asked after taking one look at his grim expression .

“Bad enough. Killed in the same fashion except the letter opener was replaced with a knife.” He shook his head. “She had no reticule, but tucked into her bosom was this.”

She leaned forward and took a calling card from his gloved fingers. “This is the same man who was Miss Kessler’s last protector.” When she turned the card over, there was a hand drawn image that had been on the other card indicating an address in Brighton.

“Indeed.” Bright huffed. “It seems our work isn’t done. We will need to call on the peer, but only after we make a stop at your former sister-in-law’s home.”

A trace of icy fear shot down her spine while hot annoyance stabbed through her chest. “This isn’t how I thought I’d spend my wedding day, and I’ll wager these investigations will last well into the evening.” Not often did she resent what he did for a living, but today, she most certainly did.

“I know.” With a sigh, Gabriel moved onto her bench and sat beside her. “Sometimes, that can’t be helped.”

“Is the job more important than me? Or perhaps more to the point, are you doing this in response to my being involved with Miss Kessler?”

“You know it isn’t.” There was a hard set to his jaw, and in the gloom of the overcast day, a muscle ticced in his cheek. “ This is how it’s always been with us working cases together. We follow the clues until we solve it.”

“But we were just married not three hours ago.” She sighed. “Everything has been a whirlwind, a blur, and my life has been turned upside down.”

“I’m sorry.” He slipped an arm about her shoulders, and she nearly cried from that caring gesture. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but here we are.”

That attention to detail, that determination to continue until he had answers, was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him. But it rankled just now. “We haven’t made a mistake in marrying, have we Bright?”

“I don’t think so.” Emotions flitted across his face, one of the most prominent was disappointment. “Only you can answer that for yourself.” Then he caught her chin in his hand, turned her face toward him, and claimed her lips in such a searing kiss that she was breathless by the end. “It will get better, sweeting. And when have we not managed to mix work and play during cases? So it will be with this.” With a wink, he rapped on the roof, and gave the driver the name of a tea house in the area. “Don’t give up on any of it, Mary, us, life, all of it. There is so much good just waiting there.”

Before she could answer, he kissed her again, and this time, she joyfully gave herself up to his mastery. It was more than she’d had last night, only this time, she was married to him.

And that meant something.