Vera was understandably shaken, and Brogan didn’t know how to help. He’d told himself the night before, when Fletcher had brought him the letter from the Dread Master, that it’d be for the best to keep a distance from Vera Sorokina—an emotional one, leastwise. That decision had held for all of a few hours. He was, once again, feeling drawn to her, pulled in.
Brogan stepped into the path of her pacing. She stopped and looked at him. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring expression, inviting her to share what was on her mind.
After a moment, she sighed. Her shoulders rose and fell. “He didn’t pay.”
Brogan nodded. “Most businesses can’t afford fire insurance.”
“Not that. The protection money. He didn’t pay it. When the man came to collect, Mr. Overton told him he didn’t have it, that he couldn’t pay.”
Brogan watched her more closely. “And what has that to do with this fire?”
“The man said that he ought to reconsider on account of it being easy for a life to go up in flames.”
Saints above. “’Twasn’t an observation, then, but a threat.”
“I’m beginning to think we haven’t been paying for security, after all.”
Lands, it certainly didn’t seem that way. “Have you spoken with your neighbors about this?”
“What would I even say?” She spread her hands and shrugged. “I don’t know how to help. It wouldn’t do a lick of good to meet with them if I haven’t any hope to offer.”
’Twas one of the things he’d come to admire most about Vera. She never wanted to cause people pain. She had a good heart and a compassionate nature. But he also knew from first-hand experience that spending one’s days trying to help everyone with every problem they had was exhausting.
“We can spin this question about our brains. And if you haven’t yet told your da about it, I think you ought to. And if you’ve no objections, I’d suggest we pull m’sister into the question as well. Móirín is one of the cleverest people I know.”
She clasped her hands together. Her eyes pulled wide. “I would finally get to meet your famous sister?”
“What do you mean ‘famous’?” He was never more nervous about Móirín’s welfare than when someone indicated they knew her.
“Only that you’ve mentioned her a few times, and I can tell that you two are close. I’d very much like to meet her.”
That was a relief.
“Why don’t you and your da come to my flat? The two of you could stay there tonight. It’ll give you a bit of distance from the ash and smoke. I think you’ll rest better away from here. And you and I and Móirín—and your da, if you decide—can see what we can sort out about all this. You’ve created unity among your neighbors already. If you could decide on a path forward, I think they’ll take it with you.”
Vera rubbed at her forehead, weariness filling every inch of her posture. “I’m not a leader of uprisings, Ganor. I’m not a general strategizing in battle. I’m nothing but a shop girl.”
He closed the distance between them and set his hands on her arms. His pulse picked up a bit. “Vera.”
She didn’t look up at him. Her head hung. Her shoulders bent, heavy and burdened.
“Being a shop girl doesn’t make someone ‘nothing.’ And I watched you during your meeting with your neighbors. You’re a leader and a general whether or not you think you are.”
She shook her head. “That was when we thought this was merely a mystery. Now we know it’s a threat. The consequences of failing are far bigger.”
“Come spend the evening with my sister and me,” he suggested again. “Your mind needs time to wrap around this change. Once it’s not so new, it’ll feel less overwhelming.”
“You’ve a lot of faith in me,” she said.
“And I think you’ve more faith in yourself than you realize in this moment.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. When she spoke again, she sounded more composed. “I cain’t promise my papa will take you up on your offer.”
“I vow not to be offended.”
A little smile touched her lips. “And your sister?”
“She’ll at least vow not to toss anyone out of the flat.”
That brought her eyes up to him, surprise in her gray eyes.
He laughed. “That’ll make a lot more sense once you’ve met Móirín.”
“You make me wonder if I even want to.” She didn’t sound in earnest. Vera, it seemed, had come to know him well enough to realize he was jesting.
“Trust me, love. You do.”
Looking lighter than she had all day, Vera stepped back. “I’ll ask Papa. Either way, give me a moment and I’ll be ready to jaunt.”
Left by himself in the shop, Brogan took a moment to do some pacing of his own. He was certainly not “keeping his distance,” but who could blame him? Vera had passed a horrific day. She’d learned she and her father and her neighbors were in danger. She was tired and likely afraid. He couldn’t just abandon her.
And, he couldn’t abandon this difficulty simply because he was also investigating another one. The DPS regularly tackled multiple troubles at once. Of course, the DPS had the benefit of more than one person shouldering the load.
He, alone, was tackling the investigation of Mr. Sorokin’s potential connection with the ambassador, but he was in a supporting role in the mystery Vera was sorting. He was far more comfortable as the aide-de-camp than the commander.
Some people were heroes. Some people were . . . him.
Vera returned after a few minutes. Alone. She carried a small valise in her hand.
“Your da?” he asked.
“Ain’t coming.” She spoke swift and firm, clearly unwilling to elaborate. He wouldn’t press for more. “You’re certain your sister won’t mind me arriving unannounced?”
“She really won’t. I should warn you, though, she’ll tease you mercilessly. It’s what she does.”
Vera didn’t look the least bit uneasy about that. “Between the urchins who drop by and a certain cheeky Irishman, I think I’ve learned well how to endure a bit of teasing.”
“Well then.” Brogan held out his arm for her.
She hooked her arm through his, and together they walked out of the shop. Brogan hailed a hansom cab, and they rode all the way to Sackville Street. Just as they had the evening before, they conversed easily on any number of topics. Though he was certain her mind was still spinning on the question of the Protector and the fire, they didn’t discuss any of that. He’d let her bring it up when she was ready.