Bedford Street Brigade 01 - Where the Lady Belongs by Laura Landon Page A

he’d been a burden long enough. It had been eight days since he’d been attacked, and he was tired of being waited on.
    He was tired of Cora having to wait on him.
    He needed to get on his feet so that she didn’t feel obligated to play nursemaid. He needed to have things between Cora and him the way they’d been before he’d been beaten.
    Since they’d brought his battered body home, he’d sensed a difference in her. It was as if every day she distanced herself from him a little more. As if she needed to separate herself from him.
    With his fingers wrapped around the bedpost, he took one tentative step, then another. His legs were shaky, but he wasn’t as unsteady as he’d been yesterday. He took several more steps, then made his way to the chair near the window. When he reached it, he carefully sat. He’d barely settled himself in the chair before the door opened.
    “How did you get over there?” Cora asked when she entered the room. “You’re not supposed to get out of bed when you’re alone.”
    “I’m improving. I managed on my own.”
    Cora brought in the tray she carried and poured him a cup of tea.
    “Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked when she handed him a cup. He noticed she hadn’t poured one for herself.
    “I—”
    “Please, Cora. Sit with me.”
    He saw the hesitation on her face, then she walked to the tea tray and poured herself a cup. When she finished, she sat in a chair near him.
    “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
    “Nothing’s wrong,” she said when she’d taken a sip of her tea. She placed the cup and saucer in her lap, but her eyes remained on her cup instead of looking at him.
    “Don’t, Cora. We’ve always been honest with each other. This isn’t like you.”
    “It’s not like me?” she asked. “How can you say it’s not like me? I’ve never had to deal with something like this. How do you know how I’ll react?”
    “You’ve dealt with something similar. You dealt with watching a man get murdered, and coming face-to-face with the murderer.”
    “But the man murdered was a stranger. He was someone I didn’t know. Someone I didn’t care about. This is different. I know you. I care for you.”
    There wasn’t anything for Mack to say to that. When had the dangers of his job become so commonplace that he no longer considered how they would seem to someone who wasn’t involved in investigative work?
    “This is what I do, Cora. This is what makes my life worthwhile.”
    Cora sat without moving. Her face lost its color, and her eyes filled with tears. “I know how important what you do is to you, and to everyone who depends on you.”
    “But … ?” he asked.
    “But …” She paused. “Please don’t ask me to accept what you do as if your occupation were no different than if you were a tailor measuring and sewing suit coats each day. Please don’t ask me to live my life waiting for you to come home, knowing that the chances are just as great that you’ll come home dead as alive.”
    “And if I would tell you that I love you and want you to marry me?”
    Her heart shifted in her chest. She shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I’m not strong enough to face this right now.”
    “Not strong enough today? Or you won’t be strong enough—ever?”
    Mack waited for an answer, but she didn’t give him one. Not one he could hear. She only shook her head, then rose from her chair and left him.

    The days went by with drudging speed, and Cora realized that her time with Mack was almost at an end.
    Mack was up and about. Although he wasn’t able to work an entire day, he was able to work. He discovered where Frederick Blake lived and set up surveillance at his residence. Even though Blake hadn’t returned home, it was only a matter of time until he had to.
    Mack also went to the factory where Blake worked and was told that he hadn’t shown up for work since the Undersecretary had been murdered.
    According to Mack, that meant Mr. Blake would