fists remained clenched as he heard her tell how the body snatchers had knocked her out and delivered her to a doctor, and her narrow escape from his dissection table.
“I heard them planning to come back and take the child to the doctor next.”
Brodie glanced at Rafe, and Rafe’s face was dark with storm clouds.
“Kill a child?” Rafe’s growl was only slightly less menacing than the fury in his eyes. “I wish I could have run into them myself.”
“And you, lass? Did they hurt you?” Brodie asked as he searched her for any signs of injury.
“Only my head,” she admitted. “It hurts a little, but I’m feeling better already.”
“Should I fetch a doctor?” Rafe asked.
“No, not for me.” She looked to the child. “Are you hurt, little one?”
The girl shook her head.
“Can you tell me your name?” Lydia asked.
“Isla. Isla MacKenzie,” the girl said.
“Isla, you’re going to stay here with me. At least until we find your family,” Lydia promised her.
“I don’t have one,” the girl said solemnly. “Mama was all I had.” Her voice was so adult that it made Brodie’s throat tighten. “Could you be my new family?” Isla asked in a hopeful voice.
“Well, um . . . ,” Rafe stammered. “That is . . . you see . . . I’m sure we can find . . .”
It was the first time Brodie had ever seen his friend truly lost for words. But the look on Lydia’s face made Brodie do what he always seemed to do around her—act without thinking of the consequences.
“We will be, if you want us to, wee one,” Brodie replied.
“Isla, would you like to get cleaned up and have something to eat?” Lydia asked.
The child nodded, her gaze still a little fearful.
“Um . . . I’ll see to it,” Rafe volunteered, beginning to recover his composure. “At least for a short while . . . so you two can talk.” He approached the settee. “Would you like to come with me, sweetheart?”
The girl held out a tiny hand, and Rafe instead scooped her up and carried her from the room.
Alone, and the immediate concerns dealt with, Brodie stared at Lydia, who looked down at her feet.
“I’m not sorry I ran off,” Lydia said, her defiance returning. “You were unreasonable, and you humiliated me.”
“Aye, and I should do it again. You could have died, lass. You know that? Those men were resurrectionists.”
“They’re what?”
“Grave robbers. They sell bodies to doctors and professors for autopsies. But not all men rob only graves. I’ve heard tell of some who ‘conveniently’ find bodies, even if that means producing them themselves. They’re damned dangerous.”
Lydia bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know you must be furious, Brodie.”
“Furious?” he scoffed. “My anger is a distant second to the fear you caused me tonight, lass. This isn’t like any city you are familiar with. There are all manner of dangers you could have fallen prey to tonight.”
She didn’t argue with him. She merely continued to stare at him. He moved toward her, and when she didn’t flee, he sat down on the settee next to her.
“The truth is, I dinna want you to be hurt. I dinna want to face that fear again, you ken?” he said gently. Lydia nodded and closed her eyes. He cupped her face with one hand and pressed his forehead to hers. He took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry I disciplined you the way I did.”
She pushed back to look him in the eye. “You’re sorry? Did I hear you correctly?”
“I won’t repeat myself,” he said quickly. “What you dinna seem to realize is that any reunion with your father now will end with pistols at dawn. And there can be no positive outcome from that.”
Lydia’s brow creased as she thought about it, and then she nodded her understanding and kissed him on the forehead. No more needed to be said on the matter. She curled her arms around his neck and moved to bury her face against his throat. “Brodie?”
“Aye, lass?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap.
“Are you truly all right with the child being here? I know what happens to children without parents. I don’t know what the future holds for us . . . but I know that my father would let me raise her if you and I go our separate ways.”
Brodie didn’t want to think of that, not just yet. “Aye, the wee one can stay with us.”
“You are softhearted,” Lydia murmured sweetly, and