“At one point.” She fluttered her fingers in the air. “Hypothetically, I wonder what your reaction would be if someone were to take her.”
He set down his fork, bite uneaten. That was no offhand comment. “What do you mean, ‘take her’?”
“As in steal her away from you.”
“What blackguard has threatened such a thing?” he roared as he shot to his feet. Armadillo claws scrambled out the room at high speed. “I’ll make short work of anyone who dares touch my little girl.”
“Calm down, Husband. No one has threatened her, so you don’t need to break open anyone’s head tonight.” She dabbed her mouth with her napkin then folded it on the table, taking care to smooth the creases with her fingers. “I merely wondered what your response would be.”
Jackson eased into his seat, no longer interested in the meal. “I would defend Bella—or you—with my life.”
“Nothing would stop you?” Kit’s gaze burned into his.
“All the powers of hell couldn’t stop me. You and Bella are my world. But you know this.” He cocked his head. “What did happen today? I would have all of it, so don’t leave anything out.”
Kit leaned forward, blue eyes shimmering in the candlelight. A lock of hair flopped over her brow, and she shoved it back. “Shortly before noon, a woman came into the agency who wished to hire my father and me to find her baby. Her husband took the child, and apparently the man has violent tendencies, leastwise towards her. I’m not sure about the daughter. At any rate, she charged us with bringing her back.”
Jackson rubbed the tip of his moustache between his forefinger and thumb. No wonder Kit had gone to such dramatics this evening. Such a tale must have hit her hard, for though this former swindler knew her way around the roughest of London’s streets, beneath that gunmetal exterior beat a soft heart. “I thought you said you had no clients?” he murmured.
“We don’t.” She slumped in her chair, knotting her neatly folded napkin into oblivion. “My father refused to take the case.”
“Why?”
Kit slammed the wadded-up ball onto the table, rattling the glassware. “He claims he didn’t have a good feeling about Mrs. Coleman. Something about his gut.”
“Mmm. He does have good instincts. I think you should trust him in this.”
“I do trust him, but…” She folded her arms, lips twisting. “Did Mrs. Coleman stop by the station? I told her to ask for you.”
He shook his head. “Even if she had, I wouldn’t have had time for her, not the way today went.”
With a sigh, Kit rose and swept out of the room. Could be she was pouting, but no. That wasn’t really her modus operandi. More like her fretting had driven her to heat up a pot of tea.
What she returned with, however, was a blanket bundle, one which she gently handed to him. He gazed upon the precious face of his little Bella, and once again his heart melted, just as it had the day the midwife had first given into his arms his newborn daughter. Bella’s long lashes fanned against cheeks rosied by sleep. She smelled of warm milk and fresh bread, and for a moment, her lips worked as if she sucked her thumb. Pressing a light kiss against her brow, he took care not to wake her, and relished the velvety softness of her skin. He’d never stop marveling at what a miracle his union with Kit had wrought.
He glanced up at his wife as she took her seat. “You’re not playing fair, you know.”
She shook her head, fire in her eyes. “There is nothing fair about this.”
“Perhaps the man had good reason to take his daughter, one neither his wife nor you know about.”
“Possibly. Though unless someone looks into it, no one will ever know.”
And there it was. The entire reason for the lengths his wife had gone to tonight.
“So that’s what this is about.” He nodded towards the table. “The candlelight, the meal you ordered out. You wish me to override your father and give you my blessing to take on this case, don’t you?”
She frowned. “How do you know I didn’t make this meal?”
“Because I didn’t break a tooth on the bread, and the meat”—he lowered his voice as Bella stirred in his arms—“doesn’t taste like an old boot.”
Kit’s frown folded into a scowl. “I can hardly be expected to excel out on the streetsandin the kitchen.” She lifted her chin. “But yes, if you must know, I would not like to be at odds with you over this case.”
A smirk twisted his lips. “Since when do you need my consent?”
“I am your wife, Jackson.” She looked down her nose at him. “I would not take on any venture without your agreement.”
He snorted. What a whopper. Bella squirmed in his arms, her little face squinching up into what could be a rather magnificent wail.
