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“Thank you, Logan,” she quietly said. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you—all of you. The Kendricks truly saved the day.”
“Nonsense. You’ve repaid us a hundred times over by marrying my scapegrace little brother.”
Braden snorted. “Scapegrace? I believe you’re referring to yourself.”
“True, that,” Logan replied. “But you’ve made our lad happy, Samantha, and that’s worth its weight in gold. We’re so grateful that you and Felicity are now part of our slightly deranged family.”
She was forced to rub her nose. “You’d best leave before I burst into tears. I don’t want you to think I’m a sentimental watering pot.”
“No chance of that, now that I’ve seen how you handle your blade.”
Then, with a wave, Logan was out the door and into the cold night.
Braden shut the door and leaned against it, studying her. “I’m thinking you’re not quite ready for bed.”
“Do you mind? I want to hear what you found out from the police, about . . .”
“About Roger’s death,” he quietly finished.
She nodded.
He took her hand and led her upstairs to the drawing room. There was a cheerful blaze burning in the hearth, and a decanter and several glasses were set on the low table between the armchairs.
“How about a brandy?” he asked as she sank into one of the chairs.
“I’d love one—to chase away the last bit of the chill.”
He cast her a concerned glance. “Are you still cold?”
“Just a bit of lingering shock, I suppose.” She shook her head. “I hope we never have to go through anything like that again.”
He poured her a brandy and handed her the glass before sitting opposite her. “Well, MacGowan and his gang are thoroughly rolled up, and Haxton, Girvin, and Baines are all safely behind bars. They’ll pay for what they’ve done, all of it.”
She took a sip, hoping the beverage would fortify her nerves. “Braden, two of the older boys weren’t with the others tonight, and neither was Betsy McNair, the girl who disappeared from my school. Do you know what happened to them?”
“Yes.” He propped his booted feet against one of the firedogs. “The oldest of the two boys, Timmy, was a willing accomplice.”
“He was the first to disappear from the orphanage. So, that means he did run away.”
“Apparently. Girvin said he was holed up at the Hanging Judge with a few other pickpockets. Betsy was there, too. She was abducted primarily to take care of the little ones, but usually slept at the tavern. Several constables were already making a final sweep of the tavern when Logan and I left the jail to come home, so Betsy should be safe by now.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. And what about the other boy? Johnny Campbell.”
“Ah, it seems that lad ran away from the gang the first chance he got. Girvin had no idea where he went.”
Samantha grimaced. “I wish he’d come to me. I would have helped him.”
“Too scared, I imagine. But Logan’s men will look for the lad, and we’ll work our contacts, too.”
They fell silent for a minute or so, absorbing the welcome heat pouring out from the hearth.
“Do you want to hear about Baines?” Braden finally asked.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask.”
He put down his glass and reached out a hand. “Come here, sweet lass.”
She stood and went to him, and he gently pulled her down onto his lap. Samantha settled against his broad chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Almost instantly, her nervous energy began to drift away, replaced by a sense of... coming home.
