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“Where is she? I want to speak to her.” From the look of him, Andrew hadn’t slept at all either. His hair stood on end; his clothes were crumpled and looked as though they had been worn the day before too. A days’ growth of stubble lined his square jaw, but all of that paled into insignificance against the fierceness in his red-rimmed grey eyes.
“She is here. I know she is here. Let me speak to her.” His clipped tones were tinged with a weary desperation that made Harriett’s heart flip. She moved to stand just behind Mark.
“Calm down, Andrew.” Mark turned to Harriett and lifted his brows.
“She didn’t sleep much last night. She is still in bed.”
“Let me see her,” the man’s eyes were desperate. “I just need to talk to her.”
“It’s alright,” Babette whispered from behind them. “Let him in.” Calm resignation was written on her face and she took a seat, from the look of her, before her legs gave in.
Andrew burst into the house, his gaze locked on Babette. As soon as he was inside, he stalked across the room in ground eating strides and knelt beside her chair. Babette began to sob.
“I am off to work, Babette.” Harriett grabbed Mark’s hand and they left the house to the sound of quite murmuring.
They remained silent as Mark escorted Harriett to the back of the tea shop. He was glad that it wasn’t him and Harriett in that situation. He could fully appreciate Andrew’s determination not to lose the woman he loved.
“Are you sure you are going to be alright? I am going to be out at work all day. If you want somewhere where you can sit and rest for a while, and get some sleep without being disturbed, you can have my house keys and go and help yourself.” Personally, he couldn’t think of anything nicer than Harriett being in his house while he was at work. He wanted to be able to come home and find her there, and couldn’t wait to turn his dreams into reality.
“Charles will wonder where I am,” Harriett sighed. Acceptance of his offer was on the tip of her tongue but, at the last minute, she sighed and reluctantly shook her head. “I would love to just re
st for a while, but I think it is best if Babette and Andrew are able to resolve matters undisturbed. If I am at work, Charles won’t think anything unusual is happening. If I stay at home, even your home, he could go back to Daventry Street to see how I am. I don’t really want him to turn up while Babette and Andrew are there.” She kept her voice low for fear of Charles overhearing, but was reassured but the almost continual clatter of pots and pans from inside the kitchens.
Mark nodded. When they were married, Harriett wouldn’t need to worry about work. He earned enough to ensure that she could spend her days running his house and raising their children. He tucked that precious thought into a corner of his heart, and took advantage of a darkened corner of the yard to draw her into his arms.
“I have to interview our clairvoyants and Miss Smethwick. After that, I will come back and pick you up so you can have the afternoon off,” Mark persisted. He wished he could have the afternoon off too, but that luxury was saved for Sundays; if he was lucky and everyone behaved themselves.
“I can’t. I have to arrange flowers in the church for Hugo’s funeral at four o’clock today.” Harriett sighed deeply and looked up at him. “Hugo doesn’t have any other family, so various people in the village are involved in the arrangements for his funeral.” She gave him a rueful smile, went on to her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips.
His smile quickly vanished. The immediate surge of anticipation that swept through him made him groan and he immediately deepened the kiss for several long moments before he reluctantly leaned back to look down at her. “What time are you leaving here?”
“Around two o’clock. I am going to do the flowers while others are going to get the food for the wake sorted out.” Harriett struggled to keep her mind on his question. Everything felt strangely fuzzy and she wasn’t sure whether it was lack of sleep or Mark’s kiss.
“Then you are off to the funeral,” Mark sighed. “Will Charles and Babette be there?”
Harriett scrunched her nose up. “Charles definitely won’t be going. He is making the cakes, but that is about as much input as anyone can expect from him. Babette, and myself, will represent the family.”
“Where is the wake?” If there are no relatives to organise the funeral, what were they going to do? He frowned at the thought of half the village crammed into the tea shop.
“In the village hall.”
Mark nodded and looked down at her sternly. “Just make sure that you don’t leave the wake until I get there.”
“Babette will be with me, and we can make our own way home together. With all of the policemen in the village at the moment, I am sure that even we can manage a few hundred yards all by ourselves,” Harriett argued. “You have your interviews to conduct and the rest of the investigation to sort out. You don’t need to traipse all the way over here to walk me such a short distance. Really, I will be fine, but thank you for offering. It is lovely to know that you are prepared to go to such great lengths to ensure that I am safe.”
“This is nothing to do with my duty as a Detective, Harriett.” Mark warned as he stared down at her. “This is purely personal. You are more important to me than any investigation. I want to keep you safe on an entirely personal level. My eagerness to catch the person, or persons, responsible for Minerva and Hugo’s deaths is partly because it is my job, but mainly because I am not going to have you, of all people, threatened by anyone. You are precious to me, Harriett. From the first moment I walked into your sitting room and saw you seated before the fire, my heart has been yours. I cannot deny it. You are what is important in this investigation. Not Madame Humphries, missing vases or strange spinsters. You. There is nothing I won’t do; no lengths I won’t go to, in order to keep you safe.”
“Oh, Mark,” Harriett was lost for words. He had just laid a golden pathway before her that led to a future that was so bright with happiness she wasn’t sure whether it could possibly be real. The memory of Babette’s angst last night was enough to prompt her not to waste one precious moment with him.
“I want this investigation finished, Mark. Catch the people responsible for what is going on around here. I know you will. Then we can set about our own future together. I want that more than anything.” Her voice trailed off to a whisper.
Aware that they were outside, in the cold, where anyone could overhear them, Mark had to bite his lip to stop more declarations from tumbling out. She had just handed him a gift; a very special, precious gift. He opened his mouth to speak but whatever else he was about to say was interrupted by the gate being swung open. If Isaac was shocked at the sight of his boss wrapped around the beautiful tea-shop lady, he didn’t show it. However, he did take three times longer than was necessary to close the gate and coughed loudly before he turned around.
“Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly, but made no attempt to approach or leave them alone.
Harriett smiled at him and then Mark. Their few precious moments were over but, rather than having lost the moment, Harriett knew that their discussion was merely postponed. His intent was written in the slightly rueful smile he gave her. In full view of Isaac, Mark dropped a kiss on her lips and held the kitchen door open.
“I will see you later.”
