“You are.” She grinned in full. “And as such, you should know I like to keep you on your toes.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The streets of Blackfriars were a’swirl this morning. An old lady clucked at a chicken she chased along the gutter. A shabby-skirted girl pulling a wagon of fresh watercress to market catcalled back and forth with a group of lads lugging bags over their shoulders. Coffee sellers barked. Bread merchants one-upped them. Carriages, horses, even a penny-farthing bicycle all rolled along the streets, wheels grating against the cobbles. But after several days of tending Martha’s children, this bedlam was a reprieve. Kit would much rather take her chances with dodging a loaded dray than to referee yet one more tearful argument about who’d used whose hairbrush without first asking. Not to mention Frankie’s usual hijinks in harassing Brooks or hiding a mouse in his sister’s bed. Despite all the hubbub, Jackson hadn’t breathed another word about getting rid of Brooks. When she’d asked about it the other day, he muttered something about not dishonouring a hero.
Beside her, Jackson bought a newspaper off a seller. Tucking it beneath his arm, he glanced at her. “Remind me again why you are not taking Bella to Martha’s?”
Ahh. A new tactic. Did he truly think she’d fall for such a nonchalant way of squeezing details from her? “Nice try, Chief Inspector.” She smiled up at him. “But you’ll not get any information out of me until we meet with my father.”
“You’ll have to admit I gave it a good try last night, though, didn’t I?” He winked.
Her blood instantly heated with the memory. Indeed. She’d nearly told him all beneath such coercion—which made her frown. “I certainly hope you don’t use that method when interrogating other women.”
“Only you.” He pressed a sideways kiss to her cheek. “Yet I still don’t understand why I am accompanying you and Bella to the agency.”
“Maybe I just enjoy your company.” She shrugged.
“Or maybe you’ve got something up your sleeve.”
“Pish.” She steered around a gingerbread stall sticking out much too far on the pavement. “After minding all of Martha’s—and now Charles’—children, I am fortunate to have sleeves yet on my arms.”
“They were a handful.” He straightened his tie, hiding the jagged edges snipped by six-year-old Mary when she’d gotten hold of the scissors. “Baggett’s got his work cut out for him.”
She arched a brow. “Are you saying you wouldn’t like more children?”
“Would you?” He met her stare, poker face in place. Handsome but irritating.
“I think I should like very much to have a son who looks like you. Someday. But for now Miss Bella is enough.” She leaned over the top of the pram. “Aren’t you, sweetums? Say mama. Ma. Ma.”
Jackson nosed her out of the way. “Papa, little love. Say papa.”
Bella waved her rag doll in the air. “Ba-ba!”
“There you are,” her father rumbled as they drew near the front door of the Blackfriars Lane Enquiry Agency. He snapped his watch shut and tucked it away. “Two minutes late. Quite an improvement for the rookie who couldn’t make it to a briefing on time even if his life depended upon it.” His dark eyes speared Jackson with a sharp gaze.
A smile quirked Jackson’s lips. “Good thing I had such a benevolent sergeant.”
Warmth spread in Kit’s belly at the good-natured banter between the two men she loved most in the world. Even more gratifying was they loved each other and her…and that was a very good thing considering the proposal she was about to present.
“Good morning, Father.” Rising to her toes, she brushed a light kiss on his whiskery cheek.
He grunted—his customary yet affectionate response. To her, at any rate. As his gaze locked on to Bella, his whole face softened. “And how is my darling little granddaughter today?” He nuzzled her with his whiskers until she shriek-laughed and threw her arms around his neck, her dolly smacking him on the back.
“That’s right.” He laughed as he cuddled her. “Grandpa loves you, little one.”
She patted her hands on his face. “Ga-pa!”
Kit’s jaw dropped. So did Jackson’s. They all stared, stunned beyond belief.
“Did she just say her first word?” Kit whispered.
Jackson chuckled, nudging her with his elbow. “Looks like that daughter of yours just thwarted all our best efforts, Wife.”
Kit shook her head. After all the coaxing ofmamaandpapa,how in the world had Bella learnedga-pa? She narrowed her eyes—and the twinkle in her father’s confirmed her suspicions. He’d been secretly coaxing her himself.
“That’s my girl!” Her father shifted Bella to his other arm, chest puffing out.
“I’d be careful if I were you.” Kit poked him in the waistcoat. “Pride goes before a fall, you know.”
