by Denise Eagan
Simon raised his eyebrows, but Jane missed the sarcasm. “Oh, and I know how much you love me, Star. I have always known it! That is why I have come to you. We are,” she paused for dramatic effect, “eloping!”
Eloping? Oh good God, someone ought to throttle the woman.
“And we wish you to join us,” Jane added.
“You’re already married, Jane. You cannot marry Simon.”
“Not all the definitions of elopement mean to marry! Although we shall eventually, once we persuade Del to sue for divorce. And Star, my dear, dear sister of my heart,” Jane said as she slid onto Star’s bed to take the hand Star had tried to withhold. She looked deeply—vexingly!—into Star’s eyes. “We are depending upon you to accompany us and lend us respectability with your kindness and good name.”
Respectability? Not even the Montgomery name could give them that after elopement and divorce. This time, however, Star kept her thoughts to herself, for the more she voiced them, the more Jane would defend their actions, and the less sleep she would get. It really was entirely too bad that murder was illegal. As Nicholas has once said, it’d be a mercy killing.
She would not think of Nicholas and the way he made her laugh.
“And yet,” Star said, “I fail to understand either the rush or the elopement. Wouldn’t it be more, um, respectable, and a great deal less uncomfortable, to confront Del instead of eloping?”
“Oh no, for Del will try to kill Simon.”
Only if Star didn’t do it first.
“He would not succeed,” Simon interjected. “However, Jane wishes not to besmirch her good name with the resulting scandal.”
As opposed to divorce.
Ignoring Simon, Star said, “I have known Del all of my life, Jane. If you are sincere and lay the situation out to him calmly, you may expect a rational response.” Most of the time, at any rate, even if, she thought with a twist in her chest, it would break Del’s heart.
“But you never saw what he did to Alistair Pembroke.”
“Del hit Alistair. He didn’t murder him.”
“He knocked him to the ground, and that was only for flirting!”
“Jane, he found you kissing Pembroke at his parents’ ball.”
“It was innocent—”
Star waved a hand. “Alistair is in the past. Let us focus instead upon Simon, whom you love and are destined to marry.” She might as well fill in all of Jane’s lines and get to the important part.
“Except that Lottie Carter sent a telegram to New York, which he may be reading at this very moment and plotting revenge!”
“Del’s sister? Why would she do that?”
“She is here visiting with the Michael and Bernadette Hathaway—”
“The Hathaways are here? No one told me.”
“They arrived just yesterday with Lottie and invited us for dinner you see—”
“And not me?”
“You had the headache, if you recollect. We stayed after most people had left, and well, you see, Lottie saw us.”
“Kissing Simon? Oh good gracious, Jane, when will you learn discretion!”
“You don’t understand,” she wailed. “If you had a hea—”
“Jane, my love,” Simon interrupted. “Now is not the time for recriminations.”
“You’re right.” Jane took a deep breath. “Anyway, it was—well, it was more than kissing you see—and Lottie was shocked. And so we must flee for she’ll tell Del and he’ll challenge Simon to a duel!”
Star sighed. Lottie would tell Del. In fact, she’d lord it over him, for there was as little love lost between Del and his sisters as there was between Jane and hers. It was about the only thing the two had in common. And when he heard the news, Del would come running.
“Regardless,” Star said, reasonably, “I doubt he’ll challenge anyone to a duel. This isn’t the 18th century, Jane. I own, though, that it might get ugly. Where do you plan on going?”
“To Chicago,” Simon said. “I have family there. You’ll accompany us, then?”
She nodded and his eyes lit up. Odd, that. He professed to love Jane, but she never saw any affection when he looked at her.
Some men, however, were adept at concealing emotion. Simon had always been reserved, and had behaved with nothing but kindness when she’d learned of Bella’s death. He generally displayed impeccable manners, this evening’s business notwithstanding.
Other men pretended emotions, who evidently felt none. Like Nicholas.
Chicago was a thousand miles away. A thousand miles from Nicholas, a thousand miles from Romeo. Surely distance would ease the pain and anxiety those two men dealt her daily. “Purchase the tickets first thing, and I shall pack.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
There is something in the wind.
Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors
Bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, Nick stared at one half-packed trunk. Packing to come East had been exciting. Packing to go home was tiresome. He sighed and glanced at Jim’s letter, on the bureau. Jim had hired a girl to help Melinda until the new baby slept through the night. No big deal, except that he’d never had to hire anybody for the other births. After last year’s heavy freezes, they’d been storing food for the cattle, just in case it was another bad year, creating more work than usual. Sure, they’d pared back the herd at bedrock prices, but still. . . . While Nick gallivanted around the East, Jim was working too much to devote much time to his family or new baby son, like he ought to.
It was long past time pull up stakes.
Didn’t have anything to do with Star.
He’d leave in two days, maybe three. Today he’d wrap things up with Gabe, and then tomorrow he’d visit with Ward, hand over the investigation and say his farewells.
A sudden hammering on the door jolted Nick from his gloomy meditations. “Nick, are you in there? We need to talk to you.” Lee’s voice, unusually rough. He pounded on the door again.
“Hold your horses,” Nick said, crossing the room. He opened it, letting in Lee, pale-faced and rumpled, and Huntington, his face harshly lined, his hair mussed. He smelled of booze. It was only eleven a.m.
“What’s going on?” Nick asked closing the door.
As Huntington crossed to the bureau, where Nick kept port and glasses for Star, Lee pushed a piece of paper in Nick’s hand. “It’s Star. She’s vamoosed,” Lee said.
“Gone?” Nick asked, as he opened the paper.
“And Jane too,” Huntington added roughly. “With Price.”
“Simon Price?” Nick asked. Stupid question. How many Prices did they know?
More stupid thoughts. What “they”? Nick wasn’t part of “they.” He couldn’t understand them or how they casually gave away babies when they had more than enough money and resources to raise them. For “them” life was about convenience; for him it was about honor and duty. He didn’t know if he would want to be part of them even if he could.
“Haven’t you had enough of that?” Lee snapped at Huntington as he sank into a chair, a full glass of port in his hand.
“You ought to thank God for this. It’s the only thing keeping my temper under control,” Huntington snarled back.
Nick sat on his bed, looking at the paper and immediately recognizing Star’s handwriting. As he read he heard each word in Star’s ironic, singsong voice, and the persistent ache in his chest turned to stabbing.
My Darling Brother,
I am sorry to burden you with this news, but you are the calmest of our family. Jane has decided to elope with Simon Price. I am certain you are not surprised, for she has always been harebrained. As you may suppose, I suggested she lay the case in front of Del instead of eloping. She is quite certain, however, that he will react violently, and, well, you know the nature of their marriage.
At any rate, for reasons beyond comprehension they believe my presence will add some measure of respectability to their flight. Because of Del’s temper, they have decided to conceal their destination,
which is Chicago. I am sure you will laugh at this, and I do fully comprehend the perfect stupidity of such a move. Yet for all Simon’s sterling credentials and proper manners I am not entirely comfortable with him. Thus, I have agreed to join them, having, as you may guess, other reasons for absenting myself from Newport. When they are settled, I may take the opportunity to visit an acquaintance and fellow advocate in Wyoming.
Please, Lee, will you make my excuses to the rest of the family? I am sure you will do it far more prettily than I ever could. I shall wire you from Chicago.
All my love,
Star.
She’d left him. He’d made the tiniest attempt to hold onto her and she’d fled. “When?” Nick asked, his heart heavy.
“The man at the depot said a train left at seven a.m. for Chicago. Are you her ‘other reasons’ Nick?”
He rubbed his eyes wearily. He’d chased her away. But what else could he have done?
He could’ve not argued about the baby.
He’d have lost her, anyhow. She didn’t love him. That was the crux of the matter.
“Reckon I am. One of ’em, leastways.”
Lee shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nick,” he said gently. “I did warn you.”
He shrugged.
“And the other reasons?” Huntington asked in a voice slightly slurred from booze.
“Romeo,” Nick said as a knock sounded on the door.
“Who’s there?” Huntington and Lee yelled out in unison.
“It’s my private investigator,” Nick said, rising.
“Your what?” Lee asked, as Nick let Gabe in. He was a dark-haired man, a couple inches taller than Nick, with a powerful build that he concealed under a perfectly pressed black suit. He carried a thick envelope under his arm.
“Hey Gabe,” Nick said, with a quick handshake. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure thing,” he said and handed Nick the envelope. He ran his grey eyes over Lee and Del, no doubt gauging their usefulness. If they measured up or not, Nick couldn’t tell. Gabe had one of the best poker faces he’d ever seen.
“This is Lee Montgomery,” Nick said, nodding to Lee, “and Del Huntington. Gentleman, this is Gabe Keller. He’s a former Pinkerton with his own private detective outfit out of Philadelphia. I hired him to investigate Romeo.”
“Philadelphia?” Lee asked warily.
“Yeah. Winchester suggested him.”
“Well . . . I suppose if Rick approved him,” Lee said, coming forward to shake Keller’s hand.
Gabe took his hand. “Happy to meet you, Montgomery.”
Huntington eyed Gabe speculatively, as Nick sat on the bed and opened the envelope. “Keller. I know that name. You married the Clifford woman a few years back, didn’t you?”
Gabe nodded. “Catherine is both my wife and my business partner.”
“Is that so?” Del said, rising to offer his hand. “I expect Star would appreciate that. At any rate, ’tis bloody-well time that someone did something.”
Nick frowned. He hadn’t expected Huntington to care. ’Specially since Huntington was Nick’s number one suspect.
Gabe took Del’s hand. A quick shake, after which for some reason, Gabe frowned, suddenly appeared ill at ease. “A pleasure, Huntington.” He turned to Nick. “I didn’t anticipate company, Nick. I can return at a better time if you prefer.”
“No, it’s O.K.,” Nick answered as he started flipping through the envelope’s contents. A quick look in Lee’s direction found a frown on Lee’s face.
“It’s not that Romeo isn’t a concern,” Lee said catching Nick’s eyes, “but bringing back Jane and Star is a trifle more immediate.”
Gabe’s frown deepened. “Mrs. Harrington is with Miss Montgomery? Where have they gone?”
“To Chicago,” Huntington said tiredly, “with my wife’s lover. The hell with her, Lee. I’m sick of fighting. I’m letting her go,” he said sitting back in his seat and rubbing his eyes.
“With Simon Price,” Gabe said, slowly. “He has family in Chicago.”
“Bloody hell, even the Pinkerton knows?”
“It’s my job,” Gabe said. “Nick.” He pierced Nick with his eyes. “You’ll want to go after them, posthaste. The situations are connected.”
Another jolt. It seemed like the last two days had been one after another. “You think Romeo could be Price,” he stated, as his neck muscles knotted.
“I am all but certain.”
“Jesus,” Lee whispered.
“No,” Del said, shaking his head. “No. Price loves Jane.”
“But,” Nick said looking at Star’s letter still on the bed, “Jane begged Star to join them. Why would she do that if Simon wanted . . . sonuvabitch . . . he used Jane to lure Star away from Newport.”
“Without a doubt,” Gabe said. “Mrs. Huntington and Price met before Montgomery’s wedding. The Huntingtons were invited to it, I expect?”
All three nodded.
“Jane might have provided Price with your address. I’ve yet to find the boy Romeo hired to purchase those flowers, but the telephone calls originated from this hotel, where Price was also staying. Moreover, Price’s father works for the railroad.”
“I thought his parents were dead,” Lee said.
“His mother is, not his father. She was estranged from her mother. She and her husband moved from Boston to Chicago before Price was born. After Price’s birth, his mother became a reformer, which completed the rupture. When she died, Price’s grandmother, Mrs. Farnsworth, took Price under her wing. She got him admitted to Harvard and set up a trust fund, enough for Simon, but not his father, to live on. Father and son remain on friendly terms, however.”
“That might explain why he’s so dead set again the movement,” Nick said. “You think his father’s connections could have gotten him access to the baggage car and Star’s trunk?”
“Easily,” Gabe answered.
“What trunk?” Lee asked.
Gabe stayed focused on Nick. “We’ve no direct proof, not yet, but as possibilities accrue. . .”
“And then there’s the picture frame,” Del said slowly. “Doubtless Price used my wife to enter the house.”
“I expect so,” Gabe said, as if he understood perfectly well the information about a picture frame that Nick had never heard of. “Nick, I’m in complete earnest when I say there’s no time to lose in this.”
“What picture frame?” Nick asked as shoulders started to ache, too.
“We checked,” Del said. “The next train doesn’t leave until six a.m. tomorrow.”
“Damn,” Gabe sighed.
Lee rubbed his neck. “I want to know about the trunk and the picture frame. Perhaps we’d all better lay our cards on the table. It seems that Star’s been keeping us in the dark.”
For the next several minutes they took turns talking about what they knew—the many, not a few, telephone calls, some picked up by maids, some by family. The flowers, the trunk, the photograph, the Bible. At the end, they stared at each other in stunned silence. By and by, Nick, heart galloping, rose and started yanking clothes out of the bureau. Star might’ve left him, she might hardly care about him at all, she might be selfish enough to give away his child. But she was in danger and fool’s errand though it was, he couldn’t stop loving her.
“Good idea,” Del said rising. “I’ll pack, also. Lee’s got to stay with Jess, but I’ll come by later and we’ll finalize plans.”
“Lee,” Nick asked, as he pulled out a drawer and dropped its contents in the trunk, “can you coordinate with Gabe? Wire us information as you get it.”
“Of course,” Lee said. “I’ll speak to my father as well. Perhaps Gabe, you’d join me? He may have resources you do not.”
Gabe hesitated. “From Boston, is he? I should be honored to make his acquaintance. First, though, Nick, if you would be so obliging, I would like a moment’s privacy with you.”
Nick frowned as he pulled his six-shooters from the bedside table to lay
on the bed. He couldn’t see what Gabe could have to say that the others couldn’t know, but arguing would take precious time. “O.K.” They stepped into the hall. “What is it?”
Gabe took a breath and put a hand on his shoulder. Something crossed his face briefly before he said in a low voice, “Miss Montgomery shall be fine, as long as you leave tomorrow and take Huntington. You’ll want the assistance. But don’t—and I mean this in all earnestness—don’t allow him near Mrs. Huntington. Understand?”
Nick frowned. That marriage had always made him uneasy and Del’s notorious reputation for an explosive temper only crowded the mourners. “You’ve heard of them in Philadelphia?”
Gabe smiled wryly, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “One can hardly avoid it. Keep him as far away from her as possible.”
Nick sighed. “I’ll try, but I can’t keep a man from his wife if he wants to see her.”
Gabe held his gaze a moment before dropping his arm with a sigh. He shook his head. “You’re right,” he said looking away. “It’ll be for Viv to manage then,” he added under his breath.
“Viv?”
Gabe looked back at him. “My sister-in-law. She’s quite, uh, talented at cleaning up messes after the fact.” He took a breath and then offered Nick one of his rare, real smiles. “You’ve got your guns. A rifle cane too, I believe?”
“Yes,” Nick said. Had he told Gabe about that? “Star gave it to me.”
“Good. Keep it with you at all times. You’ll need it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain
My tables—meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain
Shakespeare, Hamlet
Take of me my daughter, and with her, my fortunes.
Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
Star stared out the window at the passing landscape. It was as flat as she felt. A hazy morning sun shone on miles and miles of bright green cornfields.