His gaze bounced between Kit’s luminous eyes and Bella’s, a fierce love for both squeezing his heart. “If—God forbid—I needed to tuck the two of you away for a time, I would take you where we could blend into a crowd and not be singled out. A place where no one would take notice of me because they’d be too busy trying to lay low themselves. A place like—”
“A rookery, but no good.” Kit shook her head. “I already checked with my contacts in St. Giles, Whitechapel, and even so far as Frying Pan Alley.”
He thought for a beat, then said, “What about the Devil’s Acre, what’s left of it anyway? Not a huge area for a hidey-hole, but that might make it all the more plausible, being that no one much thinks of it anymore.”
“Of course!” She smacked her palm against her brow and Bella laughed. “How did I overlook that one? I shall enquire there straightaway. You, Husband, are a genius.” Rising to her toes, she planted a loud kiss on his lips, which Bella immediately mimicked, over and over again.
“Hold on.” He stayed Kit from snatching her bonnet with a touch to her arm. “I didn’t say you should go poking about there on your own. In fact, I forbid it.”
She pulled away with a grin. “That’s easy enough to remedy. Come with me, and then I won’t be on my own.”
“You know I cannot. I’m down to twelve days to get that paperwork finished for Hammerhead, and I’ll need every minute of that time if I am to save my job. And—” he pressed a finger to her lips—“no amount of cajoling will get me to change my mind. Though, I suppose, I could allow you to go to the Devil’s Acre with your father at your side. He’d keep you safe enough.”
“He would, but he is occupied as well. Please, Jackson. Can’t you just take an hour or two? We could drop Bella off with Martha then swing by that rookery. It’ll be like old times.” She bounced like a little girl and Bella squealed with delight. “Why, there might even be a sewer we could dive into just for memory’s sake.”
Despite how adorable they both were, he shook his head. “A capital idea were I to fancy a brush with death today, but the answer is an emphatic—”
A rap on the front door drowned out hisno.Of all the timing. He swung open the door to Baggett, a Cheshire grin splitting the man’s face even though he looked like a burning building had collapsed around his ears.
“Mornin’ Forge, Mrs. Forge.” He dipped his head at them, flakes of ash falling like snowflakes. “Thought you’d like to know, my friend, that the Charles Street arsonist is locked tight at the station, which is why I won’t be in to work this morning.” Sniffling, he swiped his hand beneath his nose, jiggling loose some soot darkening his moustache. “Just on my way home after a rollicking night. I’ll catch a few hours then see you for a new case, if that’s all right.”
“Well done, Baggett!” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Of course you have my approv—”
“All caught up on your work, are you, Mr. Baggett?” Kit wheedled her way in front of him, Bella ba-baing all the way. “How lovely. Naturally you shall need some rest, but first I wonder if you might accompany me to the Devil’s Acre? Shouldn’t take long at all. We’ll just pip in and out, and you’ll be no worse for the wear.”
Baggett blinked.
Jackson raged. Of all the bold requests! “Look at the man, Kit! He’s got a bloodied jaw, his waistcoat is ripped, and his hat is burnt on one side. No offense intended, but Charles looks as if he dove headfirst into a meat grinder before landing in a dustbin. He deserves to go home for a good scrub down and some sleep, not a romp through a slum.”
She tossed a saucy look over her shoulder. “Is that your only objection?”
“Do you need more?”
“Listen,” Baggett cut in, “if you two need a moment—”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Please, Jackson.” She laid a hand on his sleeve. “It is my only lead and you said yourself you’re too busy to go with me. Surely you trust your best man here to keep me safe.”
“Without question, but—”
“Then it’s settled.” She turned back to Baggett. “Would you mind swinging by Devil’s Acre on your way home? We’ll have to stop at the soup kitchen first to leave off little Bella, but I’m sure Martha can fortify you with a bite of breakfast. What do you say, sir?”
Jackson’s stomach grumbled. He hadn’t known some of Martha’s cooking would be involved in this excursion. Maybe he should have accompanied her himself.
“I’d say that’s up to your husband.” Baggett met Jackson’s gaze head-on. “I am willing, ol’ man.”
Certainly he was. A truer friend didn’t walk the face of the earth. Jackson scowled. “You don’t have to do this.”
White teeth flashed in a grin, quite the contrast to the dark smudges on his face. “You know your wife will traipse into that rookery alone if I don’t go with her.”
Kit arched a brow over her shoulder, a distinct smugness in the lift of her nose.
Bah! Jackson’s hands clenched at his sides.
Once again he’d been outgunned by the pixie in the blue dress.
Sore. Tired. Hungry and grimy. Charles second-guessed his agreement to accompany Kit the moment she joined his side and all the way to the soup kitchen, especially every time his left foot hit the pavement. That boot and sock had been drenched in last night’s chase when he’d shimmied down a drain spout and tipped over a rain barrel. Thankfully that’s all that had been doused or more than just his ankle would be chafing.
