Cranshaw and the possibility that the Pennyfoot would have to close its doors forever. Thus she had felt compelled to do what she could to bring about the capture of whoever threatened the well-being of those under her roof.
The fact that she rather enjoyed the chase was immaterial.
What mattered now was that her husband appeared to have had a change of heart about her quests. She leaned forward. “Are you saying you approve of me chasing after criminals?”
“Good Lord, no! I’ll never approve of it. I have, however, realized the futility of hoping you’ll give it all up. Therefore I have to be prepared to help in any way I can, if I’m to have any peace of mind at all.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I hope you can trust me enough to do that. After all, I remember several occasions before we were married when I was on hand to assist you at such times.”
She smiled at the thought. “I remember, too. We made quite a team. Even if you did complain bitterly every time you thought I was taking a risk.” She was silent for a moment, turning his proposal over in her mind. She had come a long way since those early days. Her encounters with so many villains had sharpened her wits and taught her a lot about how the minds of criminals work.
Her experiences had strengthened her capabilities, and Samuel had grown along with her. They had become so accustomed to acting together they were able to predict the actions of each other without a word being spoken.
Baxter had had no such schooling, and much as she loved and trusted her husband, she feared that in the face of danger, he might do something foolish in his eagerness to protect her.
On the other hand, who else could she trust with her well-being, if not the man who loved her?
“I think,” she said at last, “that if the occasion should arise, and I hope and pray it doesn’t, but if it does, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side.”
He gave her his rare smile that could always make her heart flutter. “Then it’s settled.” He held out his hand. “Partners?”
Gravely she grasped his fingers. “Partners it is.”
She was still debating if she’d done the right thing as they parted at the stairs—Baxter to settle down with the morning newspaper while she departed to her office to catch up on some paperwork.
She had barely seated herself at her desk before a light tapping on the door announced her first distraction. Calling out, “Come in!” she leaned back in her chair to wait for whatever new challenge was on the horizon.
The door opened to reveal Gertie, and a young woman she didn’t recognize. The poor girl looked about to drop to the floor at any moment. Her face lacked any color, and she clasped her shawl to her throat, as if afraid someone would snatch it from her.
“This is Miss Memory, m’m,” Gertie began, “and I found her lying in the courtyard and I thought she was dead only she wasn’t but she can’t remember her name or where she come from so Mrs. Chubb called her Miss Memory and that’s what her name is for now.”
Gertie paused for breath, giving Cecily some time to digest what she’d just heard. Looking at the girl she asked gently, “You’ve lost your memory?”
The girl nodded, her lips pinched together.
“She don’t know how she got in the courtyard or what happened to her,” Gertie said helpfully.
“Thank you, Gertie.” Cecily smiled at the housemaid. “You may go. Leave Miss . . . ah . . . Memory with me.”
“Yes, m’m.” Gertie gave the young woman a nudge with her elbow. “You’ll be all right, you’ll see. Madam will take care of you. She’s a bloody good sort.” With that, she barged out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
The girl jumped at the sound and gripped her shawl tighter.
Cecily waved a hand at a chair. “Please, sit down. Have you had anything to eat?”
Miss Memory shook her head and sat down on the very edge of the chair.
“Are you hurt? In
The fact that she rather enjoyed the chase was immaterial.
What mattered now was that her husband appeared to have had a change of heart about her quests. She leaned forward. “Are you saying you approve of me chasing after criminals?”
“Good Lord, no! I’ll never approve of it. I have, however, realized the futility of hoping you’ll give it all up. Therefore I have to be prepared to help in any way I can, if I’m to have any peace of mind at all.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I hope you can trust me enough to do that. After all, I remember several occasions before we were married when I was on hand to assist you at such times.”
She smiled at the thought. “I remember, too. We made quite a team. Even if you did complain bitterly every time you thought I was taking a risk.” She was silent for a moment, turning his proposal over in her mind. She had come a long way since those early days. Her encounters with so many villains had sharpened her wits and taught her a lot about how the minds of criminals work.
Her experiences had strengthened her capabilities, and Samuel had grown along with her. They had become so accustomed to acting together they were able to predict the actions of each other without a word being spoken.
Baxter had had no such schooling, and much as she loved and trusted her husband, she feared that in the face of danger, he might do something foolish in his eagerness to protect her.
On the other hand, who else could she trust with her well-being, if not the man who loved her?
“I think,” she said at last, “that if the occasion should arise, and I hope and pray it doesn’t, but if it does, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side.”
He gave her his rare smile that could always make her heart flutter. “Then it’s settled.” He held out his hand. “Partners?”
Gravely she grasped his fingers. “Partners it is.”
She was still debating if she’d done the right thing as they parted at the stairs—Baxter to settle down with the morning newspaper while she departed to her office to catch up on some paperwork.
She had barely seated herself at her desk before a light tapping on the door announced her first distraction. Calling out, “Come in!” she leaned back in her chair to wait for whatever new challenge was on the horizon.
The door opened to reveal Gertie, and a young woman she didn’t recognize. The poor girl looked about to drop to the floor at any moment. Her face lacked any color, and she clasped her shawl to her throat, as if afraid someone would snatch it from her.
“This is Miss Memory, m’m,” Gertie began, “and I found her lying in the courtyard and I thought she was dead only she wasn’t but she can’t remember her name or where she come from so Mrs. Chubb called her Miss Memory and that’s what her name is for now.”
Gertie paused for breath, giving Cecily some time to digest what she’d just heard. Looking at the girl she asked gently, “You’ve lost your memory?”
The girl nodded, her lips pinched together.
“She don’t know how she got in the courtyard or what happened to her,” Gertie said helpfully.
“Thank you, Gertie.” Cecily smiled at the housemaid. “You may go. Leave Miss . . . ah . . . Memory with me.”
“Yes, m’m.” Gertie gave the young woman a nudge with her elbow. “You’ll be all right, you’ll see. Madam will take care of you. She’s a bloody good sort.” With that, she barged out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
The girl jumped at the sound and gripped her shawl tighter.
Cecily waved a hand at a chair. “Please, sit down. Have you had anything to eat?”
Miss Memory shook her head and sat down on the very edge of the chair.
“Are you hurt? In
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