***
Regina cleared her throat and Nicole’s tear-blurred gaze found her friend’s across the table in the sunroom. Oh, how her heart ached when she thought of that man, the man who had awakened her to passion, being beaten mercilessly in a French prison camp.
“His imprisonment was a long time ago,” Regina said softly, handing Nicole a handkerchief. “I never wrote and told you because…”
“Because I asked you not to mention him in your letters. I know.” Nicole took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “But how did you know about his captivity? He doesn’t keep in touch with any of you.”
“Uncle Edward keeps tabs on him. There are stories in the papers. We know a great deal more than Mark thinks we do.” Regina searched her face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset… I’m…” God. What was she? Nicole didn’t know anymore. She’d spent so many years trying to numb her emotions when it came to Mark. She’d spent so many days picturing herself reading the letter that would inform her of his untimely death, trying to prepare herself for it. To hear it had been a near possibility… it just… shattered her. She folded the handkerchief into a tight square and dabbed at her damp eyes again. “Merde.I’m not one to cry.”
“Of course not,” Regina said. “You are my fearless cousin who worked for both the Bow Street Runners andthe War Office and I’ve been wanting to ask how you managed both. I may be interested in a similar path. So, please tell me.”
Nicole smiled and tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve. Regina was a dear for changing the subject. “I don’t know about the fearless part, but I wanted to do what I could to help.”
“But how did you manage it? How did an earl’s daughter become a female Bow Street Runner?”
Nicole laughed. “I was never officially a runner. I was an assistant. A helper. They weren’t about to appoint me to the team.” She stared out the window at the hawthorn trees, memories overtaking her again.
***
Nicole had walked into the office on Bow Street on trembling legs. Would they laugh at her? Throw her out? Both were possibilities. She forced the two thieves in front of her to march at the end of her pistol and they both did so, possibly because they were astonished by the fact that they’d been apprehended by a lady.
A young man with silver spectacles and a slight build sat behind a desk that looked far too large for him. “May I help you, lady?” he asked, his eyes widening at the sight of Nicole and her two prisoners.
“Yes, please.” Nicole straightened her shoulders. “I am here to see one of the Bow Street Runners. I would like to turn in these two wanted men for the crime of stealing.”
The young man’s eyes darted back and forth behind the spectacles and he plucked at the haphazard dingy cravat at his throat. “Oakleaf!” he finally called out.
Moments later, a large, blond god of a man strode from one of the offices in the back. He was dressed in tight-fitting black breeches, black boots, a white shirt and cravat, and a red waistcoat. He must have left his overcoat in the back. When he saw Nicole, he pulled a cheroot from his lips and whistled. “Well, I’ll be a son of a—”
“My name is Nicole Huntington,” she interrupted, purposely leaving out the lady part. “I’m here to turn these two in. They are thieves.” Her heart hammered in her chest and she eyed the runner warily.
The blond god named Oakleaf strolled up to the three of them and gave them each a once-over. “Good morning, Miss Huntington,” he said with a wide grin. “My name is Daffin Oakleaf and I have a slew of questions for you.”
“Are you a Bow Street Runner?” she asked, head still held high.
“I am.” He tilted his head toward her in the semblance of a bow.
Nicole swallowed. “Then I shall be happy to answer your questions once we have these brigands squared away. I have a few questions of my own.”
“Who are they?” Daffin asked, walking around the men in a wide circle, still clutching his cheroot between his fingers.
“The two thieves you were looking for in yesterday’s paper,” she informed him with a solid nod.
Oakleaf’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “Parker and Smith?Youfound them?”
“Yes.” A proud smile popped to Nicole’s lips.
“Why bring them to us?” Daffin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Nicole summoned every ounce of courage she possessed. She concentrated on ensuring that her voice did not waver. “I want you to hire me.”
“Oh, lady.” His grin returned even broader. “I want to hearallabout this.”
And so her relationship with Daffin and the runners had begun. He hadn’t liked the fact that she was female. He liked it even less when she admitted she was a lady. But she’d been able to convince him she could help. Many crimes were committed by and against the aristocracy, after all. Who better to be watching without being paid any mind than a young lady of theton? Who better to sneak up on unsuspecting brigands in the streets than a woman no one would suspect was looking for them? This, and only this, had convinced Daffin to allow her to be a part of his tribe.
He would not allow her to call herself a runner. She was an assistant, and if that was as close to becoming a member of law enforcement as she could be, it was good enough for her. For the moment.
