by Beth Byers
“How do you know it? Are you close friends?”
“She’s my fiancée’s dearest friend,” Joseph told Evelyn, unable to hold back a grin as her whole face lit up.
“And you eavesdropped on her next plan? You know what she’s working on? A detective series! I confess that I was hoping for another small town one.”
“She’s quite clever, our Georgette,” Joseph told her. “I believe you’ll see both kinds of books in the near future. Georgette works quite endlessly and feels a bit of a pressure to get extra work done at the moment.”
“She does? Oh that is exciting. More than one book in the next few months?”
“At least two just from her,” Joseph replied. “Plus the detective series.”
“Are you sure?” Evelyn asked.
“I fear I am a detective and the other author is something of an open book to me. I’ll introduce you to them both.”
Miss Hobbs’s eyes widened and a pretty blush crossed her cheeks. This excitement about books, it would be enough for Robert. Joseph knew his brother quite well. His wants were rather simple and the way to his heart, despite that morning’s bacon, was through books. Which was of no surprise, of course, because it was the same with Charles. If this girl were as kind as she was pretty, Robert would be gone for her.
Joseph grinned at her and then her cousin. “Maybe you should try one of Georgette’s books,” he told the man. “You might be surprised. They’re quite clever.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Warren said even more sourly than he had a moment before. “Books are all she cares about. She’s not going to catch a man that way, is she? She meets some likely fellow and then prattles on about books and suddenly they disappear.”
Joseph noted the dark look that Evelyn cast her cousin and the correspondingly rough look she received in return. They shot each other daggers while Joseph avoided both of their gazes for the rest of the trip.
It took a few minutes for the trolley to reach the station and Joseph slipped off, tipping Evelyn his hat as they parted on the street and thinking that he’d need to find a chance to invite her to tea with Georgette without that cousin of hers around.
MARIAN PARKER
“Marian, darling,” Joseph said over the telephone. “I need you.”
“Yes, that’s why you begged me to marry you.”
“I think that’s going a bit far,” he countered.
Marian laughed into the receiver and then asked, “What do you need, love? I have a dress fitting today.”
“Robert’s in love.”
“He is?”
“Marian,” her mother snapped from behind her. “We have quite a lot to do today if you insist upon marrying that man.”
“That man?” Joseph demanded. Marian was relieved to hear the humor in his voice. “The love of your life? The future father of your children? The handsome bloke you’re lucky to have caught with your wiles?”
“Joseph needs a favor, Mum,” Marian said with a grin at her mother. She was, Marian knew, exactly what Marian would be like when her children were leaving home. They had the same shaped face, the same tilt to their noses, the same tendency towards a larger chest and hips.
“So you’re going to cancel on me? As though I haven’t rearranged my own busy schedule to go with you for the dress.”
“No,” Marian said brightly as though her mother’s sourness didn’t bother her. “I’m going to find out what the favor is and then I’ll come with you. I would never cancel on you.”
Her mother’s gaze narrowed and she shook her head before she backed out of the room.
“Please say I can work in whatever you need with whatever my mother has planned.”
Joseph’s chuckle was all she needed to actually feel bright. “I need you to come by the station, around lunchtime within the next few days, so we can accidentally run into Robert’s lady love and invite her to tea to meet Georgette.”
Marian pressed her lips together. On the one hand, she would be determined to love whoever Robert found. On the other hand, would she be jealous about sharing Georgette? It had taken Marian quite some time to find a friend who took her as she was. “I think I’m jealous.”
“Of me or of Georgette?”
Marian snorted. “Dear Joseph. I have no need to be jealous of you, have I?”
“Indeed not. So it’s Georgette who leaves you up at night and worried over losing your dearest love?”
There was an awkward silence as they both realized that Marian was more jealous of Georgette than Joseph. It ended with Marian’s giggle.
“I’d be jealous,” Joseph told her. “But Georgette has already replaced me as Robert’s favorite human and Charles’s one love. Why would I be surprised that you love her best too? Such is my lot in life.”
“Perhaps not best,” Marian told him lightly. “Just less securely.”
“I don’t find that any more comforting,” Joseph told her, but he didn’t really mean it. She could tell by the tone of his voice and the way his attention had turned from her. His mind was on whatever case he was working again and off of helping Robert. “Darling, Georgette has enough love for you and whoever Robert loves as well. Just as she loves you along with her little crew of orphans and Eunice and Anna Mustly. Don’t worry. Will you come?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Wonderful. Darling, I must be going. Have fun with your mother.”
Marian snorted.
“Or elope with me. I shouldn’t object to an earlier wedding date.”
She snorted once again as she replaced the telephone and went to find her mother, who was waiting, arms crossed, in the hall. Her coat and hat were on, her handbag ready. Her frown was deep.
“Why do you despise him so?” Marian asked, not for the first time.
Her mother shook her head. She never answered the question, but Marian was determined to learn the reason.
“Mother,” Marian said gently. “I am going to marry Joseph. He will be your son-in-law and the father of my children. You don’t have to like it, but if you could scrape out some sort of excitement for me, I would very much appreciate it.”
Her mother’s gaze narrowed.
“You liked him well enough at first.”
“I didn’t realize what it would be like for you. Marian, he’s going to work all hours. He isn’t going to be there for your children’s cricket games. You’ll be alone all of the time and in Harper’s Hollow. He’s going to be in danger. And, sooner or later, you’ll get a visit from other officers and you’ll discover you’re a widow, laden with children, and unable to support yourself.”
Marian frowned as she faced off with her mother. “Versus marrying the fellow you’ve picked out whom I don’t love. Mother, I would rather chase happiness than accept something that will leave me guaranteed to be unhappy and regretful.”
“You aren’t as smart as you think you are.” Her mother’s lower lip trembled and her eyes were shining. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I don’t understand why you are so convinced that Joseph will lead to unhappiness.”
“Marian.” Her mother’s mouth turned down sharply. “It’s called life experience.”
Marian took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I suppose I’m going to have to make my own terrible mistakes then, Mother. I wish you could try to have a little faith in me and the man I love because all that’s happening is that a divide is growing between us.”
“This divide is as much your fault as it is mine, Marian Elizabeth. I am your mother. You are supposed to listen to your mother. I didn’t spend my life sacrificing for your happiness to watch you throw it away.”
Marian closed her eyes and then begged, “Mother…”
“Well, we don’t need to be late if you insist on moving forward.”
“I do,” Marian replied.
“What did Joseph want?”
Marian shook her head, refusing to answer and give her mother more fodder for her
complaints against Joseph. It didn’t matter that his request had been innocent. Marian’s mother could take any scrap of information and twist it when it suited her.
3
GEORGETTE DOROTHY AARON
Georgette glanced up as Joseph entered the library where she’d been working. He had a smug grin on his face that matched Robert’s all too often. Charles, on the other hand, hid his smug moods with ease.
“Is it that time already?” She leaned back, felt the ache in her back, and knew it was past time when she should have gotten up and left the desk. She was surprised that Eunice hadn’t dragged her away until she remembered that Eunice had taken the afternoon to help the Mangan family settle their chickens. The mere thought made Georgette shudder. Those beady eyes. The low chatter that sounded so much like gossip.
“You should have been dragged away long before now,” Joseph told her as she struggled to stand. He took her by the arm, hauled her to her feet, and added, “If Charles and Robert weren’t working late, you’d be scolded for certain. Were you taken away by your story?”
Georgette nodded as she confessed, “It was the part when everything goes wrong. Am I a devil for loving to write that part the most?”
Joseph chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll hold against you the suffering of fictional people.”
Georgette led the way to the kitchen. Now that she had pulled away from her typewriter, she’d realized that she was nearly faint with hunger. It wasn’t the pangs that reminded her, but the lightheaded wooly feeling. How had she even focused on writing when she felt like this?
She dug through the cupboards until Joseph cleared his throat. She turned to find him lifting the cover off of a tray that had been left out for her. Cucumber sandwiches, a large glass of milk for the baby, biscuits for the sweet tooth that wouldn’t leave her be, and a teapot ready to go. Georgette put the kettle on and sighed as she sat next to Joseph.
It was ridiculous that she was stiff from carrying the baby and sitting all day and yet the moment she stood, her body demanded she sit again.
“Why are Charles and Robert working late?”
“A meeting with some star author. He came to town without notice and demanded to be entertained. Charles tried telephoning you, but there was no answer.”
Joseph’s lifted brow had Georgette blushing. She pursed her lips at him as her head tilted. “I’ll feed you if you don’t tell.”
“Deal.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “You’re easy, Georgette.”
“I’d have fed you regardless,” she told him dryly.
“Where is Eunice?”
“She took the girls to help with the livestock. They’ve got their chickens set up, their little garden, and their dairy cows. It seems that there was something of a need for milk and eggs lately, so they had people knocking on their door before they were ready and they’re rushing to fill the need.”
Joseph leaned back. “Is it terrible if I don’t care?”
Georgette shook her head and scrunched her nose. “I rather feel like I’m glad they’re going to be all right and am very grateful that I don’t have to be the one who is helping with the day-to-day matters.”
Joseph lifted his empty teacup in agreement just as the whistle blew on the kettle. He rose before she could and poured the hot water over the tea leaves in the teapot. As he poured the tea, she sliced bread from one of the loaves. Eunice had only left enough on the tray for Georgette and if Joseph were as famished as she was, they’d only be taking the edge off of their hunger before Eunice returned to make a proper meal.
“I have news,” Joseph told Georgette as she began doctoring her tea with milk and sugar.
“Do you?” She hardly cared and her eyes closed as she took that first nirvana-like sip of tea. There was nothing more perfect than a cup of hot tea. This one combined toffee and apple and came close to replacing her love of the tea with coffee beans and cocoa nibs blended in.
He stopped speaking until she was half done with her tea and when she opened her eyes again, he was grinning her way, utterly amused at her expense.
“One must take one’s joys where one may,” she said primly.
“You’re addicted,” Joseph told her flatly. “Do your hands shake when you don’t have it? Can you think of anything else? Would you trade your fortune for another sip?”
Georgette rolled her eyes at him and admitted, “I might be a bit addicted, but it’s an innocent love, as well you know. Quit comparing me to the criminals of your work.”
“You’d be an excellent criminal,” Joseph told her lightly, and it didn’t escape her that his teacup was empty.
She topped them both off. “Except for those pesky morals.”
“Morals do tend to get in the way of criminal activity, I suppose. Now eat some of that sandwich so I’ll have your attention for my news.”
Georgette took a bite and then lifted her brows, waving at him to proceed. He leaned forward with glee as he asked, “Do you remember that girl in Robert’s book? The one who was framed for murder?”
“What I remember,” Georgette told him in surprise, “was that you didn’t know about that.”
“I’m a detective, and Robert has been an open book to me since he was born.”
“And you also read it?”
“Yes, of course, I believe I read your notes before poor Robert did. He was pacing over those, you know. I liked it before, but he was right. It needed charm. After you wrote in some layers of characterization, I found myself wondering when the next one would be out.”
“The first hasn’t even been published yet. Robert is afraid to give it to Charles, I think. Poor Robert keeps tinkering.”
“He isn’t desperate enough,” Joseph told her flatly. “Even if it does fabulously well, he’ll want to keep working with Charles. Robert jokes about you being his favorite human, but it’s Charles.”
“It’s not necessary to rank love,” Georgette said mockingly. “Our hearts grow to love as many as become family to us. Robert can love Charles for being a pseudo father and savior of you two as boys and love me for helping him with his book.”
“That isn’t why he loves you,” Joseph said, “but fine. So, do you remember the girl who was framed for murder?”
“Of course. The pretty little blonde with the chignon.”
“The what?”
Georgette rolled her eyes and muttered about men before she replied. “The smooth hair style that sort of curls up into one long roll across the back of her head.”
“There’s a name for that?”
“Of course there is, idiot,” Georgette said fondly, already needing to top their tea off again. She rose and refilled the kettle. This wasn’t going to be a one-pot gossip session, it seemed.
“Regardless,” Joseph said. “The smooth little uptight blonde.”
“Yes,” Georgette replied.
“She’s real.”
“What now?”
“She’s inspired by this woman he saw on the train, thought was married, and has been obsessing over. Only, she’s not married.”
Georgette returned to her seat, ignoring the tea to study Joseph. This was good news. “She’s not?”
Joseph shook his head, grinning at the expression on her face.
“And that matters to Robert?”
“More than he’d like to admit,” Joseph said smugly.
Georgette tucked her hair behind her ear, setting her hands on her belly as she leaned back. Joseph nudged the plate of biscuits closer as Georgette asked, “She’s real?”
“She’s real. I’m not sure that what he wrote about her is anywhere near accurate. The big burly bloke that she’s always with is her cousin not her husband. They both work for the Yard. He’s one of the guards, she’s a file clerk. She’s single, a bookworm—” Joseph rubbed his hands together in pleasure. “He doesn’t even know that yet. When he finds out, he might actually start stalking the poor girl instead of watching her from afar.”
“
Mmm.” Georgette shook her head. “No. We can’t let that happen.”
“Which is why,” Joseph told her, “we’ll need to have tea at your house.”
“At my house?”
“She wants to meet her favorite author, Joseph Jones.”
Georgette’s brows lifted.
“Miss Evelyn Hobbs,” he explained, “is extremely excited about the new series that Mr. Jones is writing with a friend. The detective series.”
Georgette took in the smug look on Joseph’s face, which had only increased. He had surpassed smug to full on pompous.
“So, you’ve become a matchmaker?”
“I’m simply using my skills for the good of mankind.”
“And by mankind you mean your brother,” Georgette said, bypassing a butter biscuit for one that had been rolled in cinnamon and sugar.
“Perhaps.”
Her gaze narrowed. “I might not know much about siblings—”
“I’ll be happy to fill in the blanks for you, my dearest Georgie.”
“But I do understand that you want to spend the rest of your life reminding Robert that you engineered his love.”
Joseph’s shout of laughter was all the confirmation that Georgette needed. He wasn’t even shameful when he admitted it. “Every holiday.”
“Every anniversary,” she shot back
“Every birth of a child. Joseph sounds good for his first son, doesn’t it?”
“You’ll be intolerable,” she told him flatly.
Joseph’s evil grin didn’t fade in the slightest. Instead he lifted a brow as he asked, “But you’ll help?”
“Help Robert meet a woman who intrigued him enough to make her the heroine of his first detective story? Yes.”
Joseph took the second kettle off of the burner just as Eunice entered.
“A Sunday tea, I think?” Joseph suggested.
Georgette shook her head. “Saturday. Sunday is for family dinners. As much as I want her to be all that Robert imagines, she’ll feel awkward if it’s the whole family, all of our close friends, and one stranger.”