By the time Isabela allowed him to set her down in the crib, Vincent was worried that the rumbling of his stomach might wake her. With delicate steps, he managed to leave the nursery, only then letting out a deep breath. Despite his hunger, he dragged himself to his room, pleasantly surprised to find a fresh, if tepid, bath waiting for him. He cleaned himself up, scrubbing away a thick level of dirt until the water was murky. Once dressed, he went in search of food.
As he descended the stairs into the foyer, Mister Grayson was opening the front door, his brothers and Thomas waiting. A smiling brunette in a simple sage day dress swept inside, offering polite thanks to the butler before turning her grin to the other men.
"Good morning, brothers," Beth dipped her head, "and Thomas."
A presence loomed behind her, blocking the soft light but failing to hide the hand he placed gently on her hip. "Will you at least let me in the house, sweetheart?"
Beth laughed lightly, stepping properly into the house, and hugging her closest brother, Bart. Her husband followed after her, shaking his head slightly, and dipping his head in apology to Mister Grayson who could now finally close the door and move out of the way as hugs and strong handshakes were exchanged. As Vincent joined them in the foyer, he opted only to nod at each of them.
Simon was the last to step forward, embracing Beth and then clapping David on the shoulder. "We were getting worried. Beth's letter said you weren't well enough to travel?" He squinted into David's face, but the look was filled with concern rather than suspicion. "Are you alright?"
His brother-in-law smiled back at him, though if asked Vincent would not have said the emotion reached his eyes. "I am, thank you. Feeling much better now, I just..." His gaze darted to Beth, and he cleared his throat.
Beth's hand moved to rest on his forearm, squeezing gently, perhaps in comfort. "It is my fault really," she said, "I insisted we wait until David was feeling better, despite it being only a mild cough. You know how we women worry." The laugh she tacked on the end lacked authenticity, but as none of Vincent's brothers pointed it out, he chose not to as well.
Beth's other hand drifted to her stomach, sitting low on her abdomen. "Might we meet the baby now?" her tone was eager, and her grip on her husband tightened slightly.
Vincent blinked.
Ah.
Unfortunately, he wasn't sure what to do about his suspicions, and he stepped to the side with his mouth slightly ajar and watched them all proceed up the stairs towards the nursery. The movement left only Thomas and himself in the foyer.
The other man took a seat on one of the lower steps. "I can see the wheels in your head turning," he commented. He rested back on his elbows, stretching himself out. "A penny for your thoughts?"
A week ago, Vincent would not have dreamed of confiding in Thomas Thorne, but the man had proven himself trustworthy. They were... friends now. Vincent's jaw clenched and unclenched as he considered his options, but eventually he lowered himself onto a step as well, sitting rigidly with his hands pressed palms together in his lap.
"I... how..." He sighed. "What is the right gift for one's first niece or nephew?"
If he hadn't been studying the floor, he might have seen Thomas' eyebrow quirk. "A niece or nephew? Is it Matt's? He seems the most likely culprit!"
Eye contact was required for Vincent to stare at the other man in somewhat horrified confusion. Thomas merely shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought Simon or Bart the types to sow their wild oats, particularly without begetting heirs first."
As the other man's words finally made sense, Vincent let out a sharp burst of laughter. "Beth," he said, "Beth and David."
"Oh," Thomas glanced over his shoulder, looking in the vague direction the others had. "That makes more sense."
Neither man had much more to say about that, and after a moment they rose and followed the others upstairs. Vincent entered the nursery, frowning when he noticed his family gathered around the crib; they had better not disturb Isabela.
.
They did, of course, disturb Isabela, and after ten or so minutes of Beth trying to soothe the girl back to sleep, Matthew let out a groan.
"Just give her to Vin, I beg you!" he said, his hands gripping the side of his face.
Beth was surprised, blinking wide eyes at her brother, but when Vincent stepped forward amicably with his arms extended, she passed the babe across obediently. Almost instantly, the child soothed. Vincent let out a sigh, but there was a small smile on his face as well.
"Alright." The room looked at Thomas, but he was watching Vincent. "We haven't eaten in," he paused to shake his head, "I'd rather not think about how long. Let's move this conversation to the dining room."
No one blinked an eye as he gave direction in a house that wasn't his.
Breakfast had just finished being laid out when they entered the room, and the men flocked the table instantly. Beth, at Vincent's side, moved with him to the table.
"You look... comfortable with her," she commented softly. Her hand fluttered near his shoulder, but eventually moved to stroke the little girl's head. "I didn't expect that."
Vincent hadn't either.
They took seats opposite each other at the table, and Vincent felt his stomach rumble. With Isabela in his arms, it would be too awkward to fetch himself some food, but when she had settled some he was sure...
A plate laden with bread, fruit and ham was set in front of him.
Glancing up in surprise, a frown already formed, he found Thomas. The man took the seat beside him, setting down his own plate of food. He raised an eyebrow when Vincent's gaze remained on him.
Beth offered a quiet, "Thank you", across the table, drawing Vincent's attention. David had brought her a plate of food as well, and now pressed a tender kiss to her head. It was an intimate moment â an intimate gesture â and Vincent found himself staring at the food before him with a frown and a roiling in his stomach.
When the last of them, Simon, took a seat, he called the attention of the table back to Vincent and Thomas. "So what did you learn over the last week?"
The attention of the table turned to them.
Vincent looked to Thomas. Thomas shrugged at him around a mouthful of toast. "You can explain it far better than I."
Vincent blinked; this was not an attitude he was used to. The only guarantee was that he would explain it far slower than Thomas. He watched the other man for a long moment, waiting for him to realise his mistake and change his mind. Thomas just took another bite of toast.
Turning back to the table, Vincent took a breath, stuttered out the start of his sentence, and then did his best to explain everything they had uncovered. He described the factory, the Spanish women, and their fear of the men who controlled them. He put a name to the baby in his arms and offered what little insight they had into her parentage. He recalled Slim Brown, his lip twitching, and mentioned the area where they'd disembarked, including their added guest, Mutt.
Matthew interjected then. "He's out in the stables, by the by," he said, "The grooms agreed to give him a bath or two."
Thomas grinned, raising his glass of juice fractionally in thanks.
At the head of the table, Simon's breakfast was growing cold, forgotten in the midst of so much information. "It was a very productive week, by all accounts," he commented softly. "What do you plan to do next?"
Bart set his glass down a little too forcefully. "Surely we must find the mother. Only she can explain why we have been dragged into this."
Vincent's gaze fixed on Isabela's face. At his side, Thomas leant closer, one hand extended to gently stroke the loop of dark hair escaping from her blanket. Even after the curl was pressed back into its proper place, his soothing touches continued. Isabela's eyes blinked slowly shut.
"Did you tell her already?" The question was for Vincent alone. It caught him off guard, and in the moment it took to construct a reply, Thomas cleared his throat. "It's a silly thought really."
His hand pulled back.
Without thinking, Vincent caught him gently by the wrist. He met Thomas' gaze. "I told her."
It was still a strange sensation where their skin came into contact: foreign, but not unwelcome. He could almost feel the thrum of Thomas' pulse beneath the pads of his fingers.
"What are you two whispering about?"
Their hands separated instantly.
Thomas swallowed, but glanced around the table out of habit before he spoke. He had to look twice to confirm. "Wait, where's Phil?"
Vincent felt himself flush: he hadn't even noticed the absence of his younger sister. There was no alarm in the room, however, so that was reassuring.
"I still haven't found a governess for her," Simon said with a sigh, running a hand across his face, "She was growing bored. Aunt Delia offered to entertain her for a few days."
Thomas nodded. As he made to speak again, his gaze shifted to Beth. "This is not a nice story." It was a warning, not an instruction. No one was surprised when she straightened her posture and stayed exactly where she was.
Thomas cast one final glance at Isabela before he spoke. "We found Gabriela; she's dead." There were gasps and frowns, and a general hubbub that died down as Thomas relayed the manner in which they'd found Isabela's mother.
"The-"
"I-"
Into the silence that followed the story, both Thomas and Vincent tried to speak. Vincent was surprised again when the other man bowed out, taking another mouthful of toast and reaching out his other hand to straighten Isabela's blanket.
"The... You'll need to send for the police, Simon," he said, dragging his attention from the child in his lap, "They might be able to tell us with more certainty how long she's been there."
His brother nodded, waving over a footman and requesting paper, ink, and a quill in soft tones.
Beth's face had drained of colour, and Vincent was almost sure her hand was gripping David's under the table. Still, she spoke calmly. "Someone should talk to the tenants in the area too. They'd have a good idea if anyone crossed their lands, and when."
The room agreed with her.
With a shrug, Matt slid farther down in his chair, his hands moving to interlace across his stomach. "Surely the answer will be the most obvious one; she left her baby here, and then fell to her death on the walk back."
More than one person in the room winced at his phrasing.
Bart frowned.
"Matt's right." The words seemed to pain him. "We can guess at the when, but it doesn't feel like the most pertinent question. What we need to know is; why?" His elbows resting on the arms of his chair, Bart leant forward, chucking his chin at Vincent. "By your account, this was no accident. The woman went out of her way to leave her child on our doorstep. Why?"
Matt seemed buoyed by the support, leaning over to slap Bart on the shoulder. "But there's an even more important question before that." He waited until the eyes of the room were on him. "Now what?"
.
It was a very decent question to which no one had an immediate answer.
The constable was sent for and arrived, and after some struggles which Mutt quickly resolved, they located Gabriela's body again. The scene was slightly less harrowing the second time around, but Thomas also managed to avoid drawing too close to the dead woman. He stood at a distance, Mutt pinned in his arms, as the constable shouted instructions to his men and cast worried looks at the cloudy sky. His concerns were validated not an hour later, when another storm broke. For the second time, Thomas returned to the Humphrey estate not a little bit wet.
In the meantime, Vincent was with Isabela. The girl still refused to be taken from his arms, unless she was being fed, and for the following few days that was where he spent most of his time. He slept in the nursery, took meals in the nursery, and even read books of law in the nursery after Phil returned and was persuaded to bring him some light reading. It was a strange feeling; trapped but willing.
Perhaps it bothered him less that he couldn't go outside because there was nowhere really to go. Since Thomas' return, the rain had been almost constant, letting up only in the early hours. By the evening of the third day, more than one resident of the Humphrey household was itching to escape.
Thomas and Matt were sitting in the drawing room on the second floor in what had been companionable silence when Matt let out a dramatic sigh. He had been reclining in a chair, watching as rain battered the window panes, when suddenly, he sat up.
"That's it!" he exclaimed. "I'm for town! I cannot possibly sit here any longer." He threw back the last of his drink, all but slamming the glass down on the table beside him. Slapping the palms of his hands against the top of his thighs, he prepared to stand. "Will you join me, Thomas? Surely you'd enjoy a gallivant?"
Thomas snorted. "A truly enticing offer, Matt, but I'm afraid I must decline."
The other man's brow shot to his hairline. "Whyever 'must' you?"
Thomas' refusal had been reflexive, but now he hesitated. He had said no because of... well, Isabela. And the mystery. And Vincent.
With an abrupt need to clear his throat, Thomas coughed and took a long sip of his drink.
Matt tilted his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He was frowning slightly, but still did not seem entirely serious. "A quick tumble? Or something more?"
Thomas almost spat out his whiskey. "What?!" he asked, now coughing in earnest.
The other man's grin widened. "You look like a man distracted. So which is it? A matter of the loins, or a matter of the heart?"
Neither answer was simple.
Thomas could admit â to himself at least â that he was attracted to Vincent. This was surprising not because Vincent was a man, but because he was so... Vincent! He was calm, lean, and deceptively muscled... His hesitation, his bookishness, his awkwardness â at some point those traits had changed from irritating to endearing. And then sometimes, he let all of that fall away, and Thomas thought he might actually ne seeing the real Vincent. When he was angry, challenged, even inebriated, he lost some of the tight control he held over his life. Thomas couldn't help but wonder when else his composure would shatter. Would he lose control when...
With some extraordinary self-control of his own, Thomas pulled himself from the thought and back to the conversation with Matt. "Why do you ask?"
Matt's eyelids fell to half-mast as he equivocated, shoulder rising in a shrug. "If the first, I'd suggest sowing your oats a little further afield. I'm sure Simon would prefer you not disrupt his calm and ordered household-" the waggle of his brow indicated he did not necessarily feel the same way, "- with your roguish charm."
Even as he laughed off the suggestion, Thomas considered the advice. Was that all this tension with Vincent was? An itch he wanted to scratch? If so, Matt was right â far better to leave and not make trouble in the first place he'd felt comfortable in his entire life.
"But then," Matt said, watching the wheels turn in Thomas' head with a small smirk, "If you think it might be something more..."
That was a far more terrifying thought.
"... Perhaps some distance will do you good. Clear your head. And if the feeling is mutual, well," he shrugged, "Absence and fondness and all that."
Thomas wasn't sure which option appealed to him more; to return to fondness or with apathy. Either way, there was nothing for him here.
At least, there was nothing for him to do here.
He might as well be trying to find some information, helping in some way, and in London...
Suddenly Thomas blinked. "Wait, so your advice regardless is to go with you to London?"
His only answer was a wide, cheeky grin.
Thomas laughed loudly, shaking his head as he sat up straighter in his chair. He finished off his port with one last hefty draught, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. "Well then, how can I refuse!"
.
As he made his way to bed, a grin fading after an entirely inappropriate joke from Matt about a mutual acquaintance of theirs, Thomas noticed a light in the library and hesitated. He stepped towards it, paused again, and then let out a forceful breath. Then he walked purposefully to the library.
As he'd expected, Vincent was sitting in a chair, a thick book propped up on the armrest and a dwindling candle flickering over his shoulder. He was frowning, of course, in concentration, his finger slowly scanning a page.
For a moment, Thomas leant in the doorway and watched. Vincent was calm and collected on his lonesome, perhaps comfortable. A lock of his hair fell across his forehead, and as he brushed it purposefully out of the way, Thomas felt his stomach clench.
He coughed lightly, more to distract himself than anything, and Vincent's head jerked up. They stared at each other for a moment.
"I'm to go with Matt to London tomorrow," Thomas said hurriedly, his arms folding across his chest. When Vincent didn't respond right away, he continued. "I can be of use there, I think. Try to find something that can help Lupe and the other women."
Vincent blinked at him. His hand had stilled on the book, and the candlelight cast a shadow on his face that hid most of his face.
"I... A... That sounds reasonable." His tone was even.
Reasonable. The neutrality of the word did not explain the way Thomas' stomach tensed. He wasn't sure what else he said, but soon he inclined his head and left the room. As he strode down the hallway towards his room, he shook his head.
Reasonable.
It was a good thing he was leaving.
~~
Hello Lovely Readers!
I am doing my absolute damnedest to have a weekly/fortnightly publishing schedule, and for this week (at least) I've kept to it! I will try to post a chapter Sunday or Monday night each week (AEST), so keep your eyes peeled!
To try and keep my brain from hitting writer's block slumps, I've started up a few little projects that have been rattling around in my mind. I've put up the first one, called Grimm Luck, and I'd appreciate it so much if you went and checked it out or maybe added it to your libraries? Also, if you haven't yet, please consider giving me a follow so you get notified when I publish new stories! I'd love to know what kind of stories you want to see from me, so please feel free to comment or message me!
Until next week!
xx Flo