by Jen Turano
“Remember when Miss Martha saw Miss Cathleen wearing that hat with the peacock feathers and ripped it straight off her sister’s head?” Mercy asked as she tugged up a beard that was slipping. “Why I ain’t never seen young ladies dressed in the first state of fashion rollin’ about on the floor like they was doing, biting and scratching in a way that said all that money Mrs. Baldwin spent on their education hadn’t been money well spent at all.”
“You know I never got to see what went on in the big house, Mercy. Not when I was always tending to Mr. Baldwin’s prized ponies down at the livery stable.”
Temperance picked up her tea. “Miss Martha Baldwin and Miss Cathleen Baldwin are difficult young ladies to be sure, but why did Mrs. Baldwin release you from service? She always seemed to be a most reasonable sort, and not one who’d dismiss members of staff for anything other than a most grievous offense.”
Mercy and Eugene exchanged nervous looks before Eugene cleared his throat and settled back in his seat. “You’re being nosey, again, and like my sister said, nosiness ain’t becoming in a lady.”
Temperance took a sip of tea, then set the cup aside. “Very well, since you obviously don’t care to discuss your personal business, tell me this. What are you supposed to do with me once we reach Chicago, and how long do you believe it’ll be before we reach our destination?”
Eugene folded his arms over his chest. “That’s still being nosey.”
“Perhaps, but our time will pass faster if we engage in idle chitchat, and a subject such as the time of our arrival is hardly an incriminating topic.”
“She makes a good point,” Mercy said, helping herself to more cheese, which she promptly stuffed into her mouth.
Eugene tugged a battered watch out of his pocket, took note of the time, then stuffed it back into his pocket. “We still have a few hours to go before we reach Chicago. As for what we’re supposed to do with you, we’ve been instructed to see you to the Palmer House, where we’ll find a room reserved for us under Mr. Randolph Smith and wife.”
Frowning, Temperance considered that bit of nonsense. Helping herself to another piece of bread, she took her time eating it, then blotted her lips with the linen napkin and met Eugene’s gaze.
“Why would someone hire you to steal me away from New York, in a private Pullman car no less, and then put us up in one of the most luxurious hotels in the country? It makes no sense, not if I assume I’ve been stolen to be held for ransom, although . . . that makes no sense either, unless . . .” She set aside her napkin as the only logical explanation to explain this mess sprang to mind.
“Unless what?” Eugene pressed.
“Unless you’ve snatched the wrong lady by mistake.”
Silence descended over the Pullman car until it was broken by the sound of Eugene’s and Mercy’s laugher.
By the time they managed to collect themselves, Eugene had turned away from Temperance, having removed his mask in order to wipe at eyes that had evidently begun watering, while Mercy was hiccupping into a linen napkin, shaking her head as she let a few lingering chuckles escape.
“We ain’t stolen the wrong lady,” Mercy finally said.
“How do you know for certain?” Temperance shot back.
Wiping her eyes with the napkin, Mercy set down the linen and caught Temperance’s gaze. “Because we were told your name, and after we done asked around about you, we was told you could be found moseying down Broadway most mornings on your way to whatever it is you do on Broadway.”
“But why would anyone want to have a wallflower abducted, especially one who has no fortune, family, or very many friends for that matter?”
Eugene set his mask to rights and swiveled around to Temperance. “You ain’t no wallflower, missy, and I know you have family because that’s where we sent the note, explaining to your father and mother that you’d been snatched.”
Temperance’s mouth dropped open as truth settled firmly around her. “Goodness . . . you have made a mistake, haven’t you?”
Eugene scowled back at her. “Why do you keep insisting we made a mistake?”
“Because both of my parents are dead, which would have made sending them a note regarding my abduction a little tricky.”
Eugene and Mercy sucked in sharp breaths at the same exact time. Mercy rose to her feet, not even seeming to realize her beard was now hanging by a mere whisker from her chin.
“What’s your name?” she asked in a voice barely more than a whisper.
“I’m Miss Temperance Flowerdew.”
Mercy’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Surely not.”
“I can assure you, I’m well aware of exactly who I am, and I am, indeed, Temperance Flowerdew.”
Mercy exchanged a horrified look with Eugene, before she swallowed and lifted a trembling hand to her throat. “On my word, Eugene, we did done snatch us the wrong lady, and we’re gonna be in all kinds of trouble now.”
Chapter
Three
Mr. Gilbert Cavendish was a gentleman who believed in adhering to the strictest of schedules.
That adherence was exactly why he was feeling out of sorts, having been forced to abandon his plans to race to the rescue of an honest-to-goodness damsel in distress.
As a gentleman, Gilbert had been powerless to refuse the pleas of Mrs. Wayne Flowerdew, whom he’d been encouraged to address as Fanny, especially after he learned her daughter, Miss Clementine Flowerdew, had been abducted.
There he’d been, perusing his appointments for the day before he headed to his office, when Tobias, a man he’d recently added to the ranks of his household staff, stepped into Gilbert’s library, announcing in a voice no louder than a whisper, that something odd was afoot.
That oddness turned out to be the arrival of Fanny, who’d swept into the library in a flurry of rustling fabric. She’d immediately begun wringing her hands as she begged him to assist her with a most troubling matter.
At first, he thought the matter would have something to do with securing her an invitation to the engagement ball of Miss Gertrude Cadwalader and his very good friend Mr. Harrison Sinclair. Invitations to the ball were difficult to come by because Gertrude wanted it to remain a somewhat intimate affair, so members of society were now itching to get their hands on the coveted invitations. That meant Gilbert found himself most sought-after these days.
Granted, he’d become increasingly sought-after when word began to swirl through society he possessed a half brother who went by the illustrious title of Earl of Strafford. Interest in Gilbert by the lady set had also increased when it became known he’d recently begun building a mansion on Fifth Avenue, even though that mansion was not completed and was barely habitable at this point in time. Now though, with his friendship to Harrison Sinclair and his lovely fiancée Gertrude Cadwalader being much remarked upon, he was finding himself in more demand than ever. That situation was becoming more concerning by the day as invitations to the many society events kept piling up, and sorting through all those invitations with his secretary took precious time out of his busy schedule.
However, when Fanny had burst into tears right before she collapsed in a heap of sobbing hysteria, Gilbert realized Fanny’s visit did not merely concern securing her an invitation, and he had abandoned all thoughts of his schedule and rushed to assist the distraught woman crumpled on his newly purchased Aubusson carpet. After plucking her off the floor, which was no easy feat because Fanny was not what anyone could consider a waifish sort, Gilbert sent Tobias off to fetch tea, waiting until Fanny had been plied with a full cup of that tea before he’d cautiously approached the topic of her obvious distress.
Whatever he was expecting the poor lady to say, it was not that her daughter had been snatched straight from the street as she’d been making her way to Ward McAllister’s Family Circle Dancing Class, or that she was currently being held for ransom.
Pressing a crumpled note into his hand, Fanny sniffled into a handkerchief while Gilbert read the contents
, having to read the ransom note three times before the reality of the situation truly sank in.
Miss Clementine Flowerdew, a young lady he’d been acquainted with for only a few months, having met her in June, truly seemed to have been kidnapped. To make the situation even more disturbing, her abductors were whisking her away to Chicago, an unlikely spot, in Gilbert’s humble opinion, to hold a lady for ransom since getting there was almost a day’s journey by train, and certainly lent the already disturbing situation a most peculiar air.
After allowing the details of the ransom note to settle, he’d lifted his head, finding Fanny watching him closely, the color having returned to her pale cheeks, a direct result of the second cup of tea she’d been enjoying. Because she seemed to have pushed her hysteria aside, he broached the most logical of questions—that being why she’d chosen to seek him out regarding the abduction and the demands being made instead of her husband, Wayne.
Dabbing at eyes that immediately began watering again, Fanny launched into a lengthy explanation, mingled with a few pauses when she dissolved into hysterics again, stating that Wayne was out of town and that she was unable to withdraw the amount of money from the bank being demanded for Clementine’s release without her husband’s permission. She then ended her sad tale of woe with another wringing of hands, begging Gilbert to assist her in what she felt was a matter of life and death for her one and only daughter.
Unable to turn away a lady in clear distress, Gilbert abandoned New York for Chicago on the first available train. He’d not, however, been spending his time since arriving in the Windy City negotiating the release of Clementine. Instead, he’d been forced to wait in the impressive lobby of the Palmer House for further instructions to arrive.
Keeping a firm grip on the battered satchel that was holding the money he’d withdrawn from his own account to secure Clementine’s freedom, Gilbert pulled out his pocket watch yet again, apprehension running through him when he noticed he’d been lingering in the lobby for over two hours.
Deciding he would wait for an additional hour before he bowed to the inevitable and sought out assistance from the authorities, even though the ransom note had specifically demanded that no authority figures were to be contacted, Gilbert tucked his pocket watch away and lifted his head.
Allowing his gaze to drift over the many guests strolling around the vast lobby, his attention was suddenly captured by a woman slipping through the crowd, a woman who reminded him of his very dear friend, Miss Temperance Flowerdew, who was Miss Clementine Flowerdew’s cousin, thrice removed.
Craning his neck when the lady stepped behind a gathering of well-dressed women, Gilbert strained to catch sight of her again, freezing on the spot when the lady reappeared and he realized that she didn’t simply resemble Temperance—she was Temperance.
Having absolutely no idea what Temperance could possibly be doing in Chicago because he’d been told back in June by Mr. Wayne Flowerdew, Temperance’s cousin twice removed, that Temperance was on an extended visit to the beaches of Florida to pursue her love of painting ocean scenes, Gilbert moved to intercept his friend. His feet slowed to a stop a second later when an unwelcome thought began to form, one that might explain what Temperance was doing in Chicago, but . . . no . . . it was too outlandish an idea to accept, even for a lady known for pursuing an adventurous lifestyle, although . . .
Before he could finish the thought, Temperance caught sight of him, and with a widening of her eyes, she changed direction and charged his way, her brisk pace sending ribbons that seemed to be coming undone from her wrinkled walking dress fluttering behind her.
By the time she stopped directly in front of him, alarm had replaced any confusion Gilbert was experiencing because Temperance, even being a woman who’d always been rather blasé about her appearance, at least while they’d been growing up, was looking nothing less than frightful.
Her dark hair was sticking up on one side of her head, while being flattened on the other, and an angry scratch marred the pale skin of her forehead, which, now that he considered it closer, was smudged with dirt. Her walking gown was not only wrinkled and losing its ribbons but stained with dirt as well. Because she was smiling back at him, though, he got the distinct impression she wasn’t under great duress, which made it all the more confusing to understand her genuine air of neglect.
It did not surprise him in the least when she moved closer and pulled him into an enthusiastic hug, something she’d done often throughout their youth, even though she knew full well he really wasn’t what a person could call the warm and cuddly sort. Temperance stepped back, her smile turning into a grin. “Good heavens, but I’m delighted to see you, Gilbert. You would not believe the time I’ve had of it lately, but tell me, what in the world are you doing in Chicago?”
Taking hold of her ungloved hand and pressing a quick kiss on it, Gilbert tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I think a far more important question is what brings you to Chicago, and what, pray tell, has happened to you?”
“I asked first.”
“True, but because you’re looking downright concerning, which is saying something since I did grow up with you and you were known to take the term disheveled to an entirely different level, I’m going to have to insist on a few explanations.”
For a second, Gilbert thought Temperance was going to refuse, especially since her jaw immediately set in a manner he was all too familiar with and could only describe as stubborn, but then she blew out a breath.
“I doubt you’d look much better if you’d suffered through the ordeal I’ve been through, what with the general mayhem I experienced at the hands of inept members of the criminal persuasion.”
The thought that had begun festering the moment he’d seen her took that second to fully materialize. “Do not tell me that you’ve inserted yourself into a disturbing situation that a woman has no business inserting herself into, have you?”
When Temperance’s only reply to that was a single blink, Gilbert blew out a breath. “Honestly, Temperance, one would have thought you’d outgrow that sense of adventure you always embraced while we were growing up. While it was charming in our younger days, although a touch disconcerting at times, you are no longer a green girl fresh out of the schoolroom. You should know that involving yourself in a situation that’s fraught with intrigue and danger is quite beyond the pale. Why, it could have resulted in greater harm being done to your person than simply suffering from an unfortunate hairstyle and ruining what I’m sure at one time was a charming walking dress.”
Without bothering to afford him a single retort to what he thought was a perfectly reasonable point, Temperance removed her hand from the crook of his arm, spun on her heel, and marched off across the marble floor of the Palmer House lobby, moving at a remarkably fast clip.
Knowing there was no choice but to follow her, even though dealing with Temperance when she was annoyed was a task not to be undertaken by the faint of heart, Gilbert trudged across the lobby, inclining his head time and time again to ladies who were clearly of the society set. Striding past a doorman, while assuring the man he did not need assistance with his satchel or leather traveling bag, he continued forward, finding that Temperance was already striding down the sidewalk. That she didn’t bother to glance over her shoulder to see if he was following her was a less-than-encouraging sign.
Breaking into a run, something that caused his traveling bag to continuously bump against his leg, Gilbert finally caught up with Temperance right as she stopped in her tracks, her attention settled on a bakery where a delicious scent was wafting through the front door. Turning, she settled her attention on him.
“While I am presently more than put out with you, Gilbert, which is exactly why I quit the hotel before I did something untoward such as take you to task in the midst of the well-heeled guests, I’m also famished. Would you be a dear and extend me a small loan—one that I will repay you at my earliest convenience but will allow me to purchase a sticky bun from that deli
cious smelling bakery? I assure you, if you do me this tiniest of favors, there’s little likelihood I’ll follow through with my urge to lecture you, saving us what will surely amount to a squabble in the process.”
“Do not say that you charged off to Chicago without having the foresight to make proper preparations, such as visiting your bank to withdraw funds that would see you well fed throughout the duration of your trip, did you?”
Tilting her head to the left, which had unpinned hair falling over her eye, Temperance peered at him through that hair for a long moment before she frowned. “And to think I’ve actually spent quite a bit of my time since we last spoke in June missing your company.”
“You were missing me?”
“Were being the key word.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Honestly, Gilbert, I must tell you that I find it offensive you’d immediately assume I deliberately set off for Chicago without making proper preparations.”
“You just asked me for a loan, which does seem to suggest you didn’t prepare well.”
“I didn’t prepare at all because I wasn’t planning on traveling to Chicago in the first place, hence the reasoning behind my lack of funds.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“Clearly, although I would have thought that mentioning an encounter with members of the criminal set would have given you an inkling that I’m not in Chicago because I wanted to take a bit of a holiday.”
“I never said you were here on holiday.”
“Then why, pray tell, do you think I’m here?”