Page 21 of Crimes, Conspiracies, and Courtship (Paddy’s Peelers Mystery #1)

CHAPTER 20

The next day

Berkeley Square

“Y ou have a visitor, Lady Matilda,” the butler informed her from the doorway of the library. “Are you at home?”

Mattie sighed. It was most likely Lord Smalley. She really would rather finish the book, but that would be rude. And unkind. “Tell Lord Smalley I will see him in the drawing room.”

Mr. Hamley cleared his throat, the top of his bald head red. She hid a smile.

“Yes?”

“I have already placed him there but… he is not Lord Smalley.”

“Oh?” This did pique her interest. She set down the book and rose, intent on meeting the guest. “Who is it?”

“A Mr. Walters.”

She froze. Her heart stopped. Then it began again, thumping in her chest so she couldn’t hear anything but the loud beat. Ba-bump, ba-bump . Why would he be calling on her—here? Did he bring bad news? Had something happened to Nicholas?

Mattie picked up her skirts and ran down the stairs, bursting into the drawing room. Her chest heaved, and she ran to him, grabbed his coat lapels with her fist. She was terrified, for only something monumental would bring him here so openly.

“What’s happened to Nicky?” Her voice sounded shrill and panicked. She tried to draw in a deep breath and calm her racing pulse.

Mr. Walters stared down at her, a smile on his face. “Lord Darby was well when I spoke with him yesterday.”

Her lungs deflated, and she collapsed onto a chair. When she’d caught her breath, she glared up at him. “I think you took ten years off my life with such a fright. Why are you here, Mr. Walters?”

“Harry.”

“Yes… Harry … why are you here?” She took in his features now. It had been so long since she’d seen him this close. Her fingers reached up to trace the streaks of gray at his temples before she buried her hands firmly in her lap. He was so handsome, but there were circles beneath his eyes, telling her he hadn’t slept.

“I certainly don’t want you to age ten years when our life together hasn’t begun.” Harry went down on his knees, face-to-face with her. His dark-brown eyes shone with love. She blinked back hot tears.

Our life together hasn’t begun .

As in, it would begin?

“Excuse me? Our what?”

“Lady Matilda Bancroft, I am a simple man with a full heart. I promise to love you and cherish you until the day I die.” He took one of her hands and kissed the palm. “Your life will not be as luxurious as you are accustomed to, but you will never want for anything.”

Hot tears sprang to Mattie’s eyes. Was he proposing? This man who’d stolen her heart when he’d saved a boy and was attacked by mute swans? She waited. She held her breath. She looked him straight in his beautiful, honest eyes.

“Will you marry me and give me a piece of heaven while I’m still on this earth?”

“Yes!” she cried and threw herself at him. He caught her and tumbled backwards, holding her atop him.

Mattie kissed him, not caring who walked in or what anyone thought. She kissed him with all the love in her heart, with all the frustration she’d kept locked away these past months, with all the happiness of a girl who had always longed for love but never dared to hope for it.

Then she put her elbows on his chest. “How did this come about? Have you spoken with my brother?”

Harry nodded. “But it wouldn’t be prudent for him to see us like?—”

“I assume the lady said yes?” Darby asked from the doorway.

Mattie looked up at her brother from the floor. “Yes. How did you know about… him? Why are you approving of a union between us?” She looked to Harry, then back to Nicholas. Men were impossible to understand.

“If you sit in a chair as Mama taught you, we will explain.”

When Harry tried to sit in a chair, she pulled him next to her on the chaise longue. He took her hand in his while her brother told of Hannah and Lady Roberta’s scoldings, Lady Roberta’s idea to have Harry knighted, and then the stipulation of a year’s courtship.

“Will you cross me on this last bit?” Darby asked.

“I could wait two years if it meant being with Harry,” she said, looking into his eyes, though she answered her brother. “Knowing we will be together, and he loves me, yes. I am happy to accept those terms.”

“Well, that went much easier than I thought.” Nicholas rose. “I’ll leave you two alone for now. Mother will be home soon. I suggest we keep this quiet until Walters is officially knighted. Then I will gently break it to her.”

This time Mattie threw her arms around her brother. “I love you so, Nicky. We shall both be deliriously happy!”

* * *

One week later

Mattie checked her appearance once more. She was to meet the O’Briens today. Harry assured her that they would embrace her into their fold without issue. She had her doubts. Her own mother hadn’t been easily persuaded when she’d found out about the betrothal.

She wasn’t worried the O’Briens would dislike her. It was whether they thought her the right match for Harry. She knew from the way he spoke of his family how close they were, how protective of each other. How much influence would they have over him?

Her blue wool skirts, with a midnight shade for the bodice, had a delicate border of light-rose stars embroidered on the hem and sleeves. Her square neckline was modest, and a pink topaz pendant hung around her neck with matching earbobs. Her hair was twisted loosely on her head, curls falling about her neck and cheeks. A midnight-blue silk ribbon intertwined with her blonde tresses.

She pulled on her gloves and picked up the Egyptian brown reticule, the color matching her cape. She was as ready as she would ever be.

Mr. Jones had pulled the carriage to the front. He jumped from the driver’s seat, his greatcoat billowing behind him in the wind. It had begun to snow. She pulled up her hood, musing it would be a late spring.

“There you are, milady,” Jones said as he helped her onto the plush bench. He had placed a heated brick on the floor so her feet would stay warm. “I heard congratulations are in order.”

“How did you know?” she asked. It was true about gossip spreading like the London fog.

“When a servant sees Mr. Walters coming up to the front door and being ushered to the drawing room… It doesn’t take a genius. We’ll keep it on the low, ma’am. Ain’t nobody’s business but the two of you.” He gave her a bow and tipped his hat, then climbed back up to direct the matching pair of grays.

She gazed out the window as they passed from Hanover Square to Berkeley Square, stopping to pick up Hannah. The girls had decided they would go together, instead of Mattie bringing Franny to the dinner, since Harry would be Hannah’s brother-in-law in time. One big happy family. Oh, how she prayed for it. The girls chatted about the upcoming wedding until they reached Cheapside Street. Turning right on Gracechurch Street, the carriage stopped in front of a three-story brick townhouse with a black-iron fence surrounding it. It had a wide portico with large windows on each side.

Mr. Jones pulled down the steps and helped the ladies from the coach. Above the double-wide front doors was a brass horseshoe pointing up, with a figure nested in the bottom of it. As they ascended the steps, Mattie saw two crossed pistols with a creature set in the center. “What is that?” she asked Hannah. It looked like a lion with a hawk’s head and wings.

“It’s a griffin, milady,” offered Mr. Jones. “An ancient Celtic symbol.”

The door opened, not by a butler but by Mr. Walters himself. “Ladies, welcome!”

She entered the short receiving hall, with light paneling on the walls and a gas light above. There was a door on the left, and the parlor on the right, where a crowd of people were talking loudly. It looked like a crowd compared to her household. Mattie grabbed Hannah’s hand.

“Oh, such a big family,” her friend exclaimed, except her voice was full of excitement instead of nerves or dread. “And they will soon be ours.”

“They look much more intimidating than they really are,” Harry whisper-shouted. “Especially the big blunderhead with the dark hair and paws like a bear.”

“Are you talking about me?” bellowed Gus. “Don’t disparage me in front of my future sister-in-law.”

“Ye or da dog. His description fit da both o’ ye,” Paddy said with a laugh.

Nora hurried into the hall, her copper curls unbound. “I’m Nora, and please ignore my beetle-headed brothers,” she said, hugging both girls. “I’m so happy to see you again, Sister . This must be Miss Pendleton.”

“You look familiar,” said Hannah, tapping her lower lip with a finger. “I never forget a face.”

“She was the concubine at the masquerade,” Harry explained.

Hannah paled at the mention of the masquerade but soon rallied. “Oh my, the whole family is in the spy business.”

“Investigative service,” corrected Mattie.

Nora took their cloaks, shaking off the snow, and hung them at the end of the hall. They entered the parlor, and a sea of bodies moved toward them. Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien were introduced first, both greeting her with heavy Irish accents. He was a towering man, well over six feet with fading red hair and dark-blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. His wife was Mattie’s height, matronly, with auburn hair streaked with gray and soft, kind brown eyes. She also hugged the girls. The couple made her feel at home, and the tension in her shoulders began to relax.

Then they were introduced to the second oldest, Gus the giant, his straight brown hair pulled back in a queue and intelligent dark-brown eyes assessing her. When he smiled, seeming to approve of what he saw, Mattie knew they would be good friends.

Next was Sampson, a physician with deep dimples, whose quiet voice seemed out of place in the cacophony. Clayton, an attractive man with auburn hair and deep-green eyes, was also a detective. Benjamin was the family’s solicitor and legal advisor for the business. And finally Eli, the youngest male, presently finishing time as a Runner before joining the others. And Harry had been right. Mr. O’Brien’s hound reached the man’s hip when in a sitting position. It would easily surpass a man’s height when on two legs.

The evening went quickly. The meal was excellent. A tasty leek soup was served, followed by roast goose, parsnips and potatoes, and a coarse dark bread that was delicious smothered in butter. Soda bread, Harry had called it.

Mattie was in awe of Mrs. O’Brien, who had cooked the entire meal herself. “Except for da lemon tarts. Our day girl bakes ‘em better, and I won’t even try to compete.”

When dessert was served, the lemon tarts were just the right balance of sweet and sour with a rich, buttery crust. Hannah remarked on the horseshoe over the door.

“What is the lion-bird figure sitting in the horseshoe?”

“A griffin. It’s a Celtic symbol representing loyalty and strength,” explained Paddy.

“Light over darkness, goodness over evil,” added Harry. “It’s what we fight for every day. Those pistols beneath were added when Paddy began the Peelers.”

After dinner, resuming their place in the parlor, the music began. This was a group who spent much time as a family, seen in the way they sang or danced together, finished one another’s sentences, and laughed at private jokes from their childhoods. They were quick to share embarrassing stories of one another growing up, and Mattie hadn’t laughed so hard since… she was a child.

They were the type of family she had always been both envious and terrified of. But the fear had receded, replaced with a feeling of belonging. Before the end of the evening, she had been teased, defended, and teased again. They asked so many unexpected questions that she thought her head would spin. But never once did she feel unwanted or judged.

“You realize, coming from a small family myself, you’ll have to share them,” Hannah whispered in her ear as Madeira was passed around.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien took the wingback chairs by the hearth and signaled to Nora. “Honora plays a digestive melody after dinner, so our stomachs settle before the games begin,” explained the matriarch.

Later, Mattie asked the question still on her mind. “How did this family come about?”

“Oh, yes,” Hannah chimed in, “tell us, please.”