Caught by Surprise

by Jen Turano

  Before Temperance could react, Gilbert was pushing her behind him right as two figures burst out of the doorway, figures who turned out to be none other than Eugene and Mercy, her erstwhile kidnappers, followed by Mr. Barclay, who was, concerningly enough, holding a smoking pistol in his hand.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  Of anything Gilbert expected Temperance to do, darting past him and running toward what looked to be members of the criminal set was at the very bottom of his list of expectations.

  Before he could do more than blink, though, the criminal who was rather small in stature and whose face was covered in whiskers was wrapping arms covered in a tattered shirt around Temperance. Curiously enough, instead of screaming or attempting to get away, Temperance bent her head and began whispering furiously into the criminal’s ear.

  As he tried to wrap his mind around that bit of peculiarity, his attention was suddenly drawn to the sight of Mr. Barclay, a gentleman well past his prime, diving through the air, landing on the back of the larger man, and, in a tumble of flailing arms and legs, plummeting toward the ground.

  To Gilbert’s relief, Mr. Barclay somehow managed to land on top of the man he’d just knocked over, where he continued to sprawl over the man’s back even as the man he’d brought down began to struggle.

  Glancing at Temperance, Gilbert found her still whispering into the bearded person’s ear, clearly in no distress, which allowed him to turn his attention to assisting Mr. Barclay. He managed to take all of two steps toward the butler when Harrison and Gertrude suddenly burst out of the library, Harrison’s gun already in hand. As Harrison barked out an order for the man to stop struggling, additional chaos entered the mix when another man dashed into view—none other than Agent Samuel McParland, a reputable Pinkerton detective.

  “Don’t let them shoot us, Miss Flowerdew,” the criminal still holding fast to Temperance said in a remarkably high tone of voice, a voice that sounded feminine, if Gilbert wasn’t much mistaken. “We ain’t here to harm you, only to warn you.”

  Temperance, for some unknown reason, sent a pointed look to the pistol Gilbert was only now retrieving and scowled. “For heaven’s sake, Gilbert, put that away. You’re scaring Mercy half to death, and—” She twisted to look Mr. Barclay’s way, a tricky feat if there ever was one since Mercy, apparently a woman, although a bearded one, was now wrapping her arms around Temperance’s neck, practically strangling Temperance in the process. “While I’m more than impressed with your heroic actions, Mr. Barclay, Eugene does seem to be laboring for breath. It might be prudent to get off him before he loses all ability to breathe.”

  “Forgive me, Miss Temperance, but I’m afraid your far-too-trusting nature is allowing these criminals to dupe you,” Mr. Barclay said, lifting his head but nothing else. “I discovered them sneaking in the back door after I returned from Rutherford & Company, which clearly suggests they’re here for some nefarious purpose.”

  “We couldn’t very well walk up to the front door and ask to see Miss Flowerdew,” Mercy argued. “Me and Eugene worked our whole lives in service, and while we don’t claim to understand all the rules, we do know that if you’re of the serving class, you got to use the back door.”

  Mr. Barclay inclined his head and shifted around, earning a groan from the man named Eugene in the process. “That is certainly true, but one expects even servants to knock on a back door when paying a visit, and as you know, you did not knock even once. You tried to tiptoe in after me, proof you’re up to something dastardly and, if you’ll recall, the man underneath me pulled out a knife.”

  “Only because you pulled a pistol and then shot at me,” Eugene argued.

  “My dear man, I didn’t shoot at you because if I had, you’d be dead. I shot at the wall, an action that was supposed to have you and your cohort running for your very lives—out of the house, not into it.”

  Mercy shook her head. “We came to warn Miss Flowerdew, and we couldn’t very well do that if we’d run out of the house before we warned her.”

  “A likely story,” Gilbert said, earning a narrowing of the eyes from Temperance. He narrowed his eyes right back at her. “I have no understanding why you seem to be so protective of these miscreants, Temperance, especially since I’m rapidly concluding they are trying to pull the wool over your eyes with this ridiculous idea that they’re here to warn you. You mark my words, as soon as that wool is done doing what it’s meant to do, they’ll then go about the troubling business of trying to murder you.”

  “Mercy is not here to murder me.”

  “It certainly seemed to Harrison and me that murder was on her and her companion’s mind when they ambushed us in the middle of Central Park.”

  “I don’t recall you mentioning a thing about being ambushed in Central Park.”

  “I would have mentioned it by now if I had not discovered you facing a life-or-death situation in the ballroom when I first arrived. Although, now that I think about it, one would have thought you’d have been suspicious that I burst into the ballroom with my pistol drawn.”

  Temperance’s brows drew together. “How could I have possible come to the conclusion something of a suspicious nature was occurring? I thought you were simply being you—overthinking a perfectly ordinary happenstance.”

  “Who in their right mind would believe dropping a hammer from such a height is an ordinary happenstance?” he shot back.

  “Are you suggesting I’m not in my right mind?”

  “Not that I believe entering this riveting conversation is going to benefit me in the least,” Harrison interrupted as he helped Mr. Barclay to his feet, dusting the man off while keeping his pistol trained on Eugene. “But now might not be the best time to pursue this rather unusual courtship ritual the two of you seem to be engaged in.”

  “We’re not courting,” Temperance said, turning her temper on Harrison. “And do give it a rest with the pistols. Mercy and Eugene aren’t here to harm me. They say they’re here to warn me.”

  Gilbert took a single step toward her, thankful at least that Mercy was slowly relaxing her hold on Temperance, although why the woman was wearing whiskers was more than confusing. He stopped moving, though, when a thought sprang to mind. “Didn’t you tell me that you were abducted by two members of the criminal persuasion who went by the names Mercy and Eugene?”

  “I told you it was a mistake to let our real names slip. We should’ve stuck with Vivian and Thurman,” Eugene said from his position on the floor.

  “Miss Flowerdew done heard us using our real names, Eugene,” Mercy said with a roll of her eyes before she nodded to Gilbert. “But you got the wrong idea about us, mister. We weren’t anywhere near Central Park today, and I know for fact we never tried to kill you.” She lifted her chin. “Me and Eugene ain’t no killers.”

  Gilbert considered her for a brief moment. “I will admit that you do not resemble the men who ambushed me today because both of those men were larger than you. Nevertheless, if I’m understanding the situation correctly, you are guilty of kidnapping, even if you’re not guilty of attacking me today.”

  “Which means they belong in jail,” Agent McParland said, stepping forward with a pair of handcuffs already in his hand.

  Gilbert braced himself when Temperance immediately began looking stubborn right before she shrugged out of Mercy’s hold, but only to take hold of Mercy’s hand.

  “They don’t belong in jail because it wasn’t a real abduction, but a plot conceived by my relatives to force Gilbert into a marriage with Clementine.”

  “But we thought it was an abduction,” Mercy added.

  Temperance gave Mercy’s hand a pat. “That’s not helping your case, Mercy, but may I suggest we continue this discussion in the library where we can sit and enjoy some tea? That will lend the atmosphere a more civilized air. Although everyone needs to put away their pistols because I won’t be able to enjoy my tea with the threat of someone getting accidentally shot hanging over the room.”r />
  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” Mercy said, smacking her lips.

  “And some cake might be lovely, if there’s any lyin’ about,” Eugene added.

  Temperance caught Gilbert’s eye. “I hardly think these two would ask for tea and cake if they were here to murder me.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that they may be trying to get you to lower your defenses, and then, when you’re at your most vulnerable, they’ll make their move?”

  “Since they admitted to me on the long ride to Chicago that they’re not criminals by choice, having been forced to take on the job of abducting me because they were desperate for funds, I don’t believe they’re capable of planning out anything resembling an intricate plot.”

  “Now, there ain’t no reason to go insultin’ us,” Eugene said, getting to his feet and shaking his head. “Me and Mercy might not make the best kidnappers around, but I bet we could fashion us a good plot if we tried real hard.”

  “As I said to Mercy, you’re not helping your case,” Temperance said before she began tugging Mercy toward the library.

  “You won’t let them haul us away to jail, will you, Miss Flowerdew?” Mercy asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Grabbing hold of Eugene’s arm as she walked past him, Temperance pulled him along with her and Mercy into the library, followed closely by Agent McParland and Gertrude.

  “I’m beginning to believe you might have a most excellent point regarding Temperance’s stubborn nature,” Harrison said as he walked beside Gilbert into the library. “Although I don’t recall you mentioning much about her temper.”

  “I’ve apparently forgotten that part of her charm, which does have me questioning why I still seem keen to convince her to marry me.”

  “I’m not marrying you, and I don’t have a temper,” Temperance called from where she’d already taken a seat on a small settee, sandwiched between Mercy and Eugene, a sight that left Gilbert shaking his head.

  “Wouldn’t it be a more practical move to find a seat where you’re not sitting between criminals I’ve yet to be convinced are not here to murder you?”

  “It’d be hard to murder anyone right now since I dropped my knife when that man tried to shoot me,” Eugene said with a nod to Mr. Barclay, who paused in the act of lowering himself into a chair and released a huff.

  “I didn’t try to shoot you, merely scare you.”

  “And I would say you were successful with that,” Temperance said with a small smile before she frowned. “But where are your spectacles, Mr. Barclay? I distinctly recall you telling me you’re far more accurate with your aim when you’re wearing them.”

  “I’m afraid they’re still residing in my jacket pocket,” Mr. Barclay returned. “I didn’t have time to pull them out and put them on since I was taken by surprise by these two.”

  Mercy’s mouth dropped open. “Are you tellin’ me you can’t see without spectacles, but took a shot at us anyways?”

  Mr. Barclay waved that aside. “I can see somewhat well without my spectacles, but my shot is always truer when I’m wearing them.”

  Snapping her mouth shut, Mercy folded her arms over her chest while Temperance reached out and placed a hand on Mercy’s knee.

  “Rest assured, you were never in danger of Mr. Barclay shooting you. He stated he aimed for the wall, and I can attest that he’s a remarkably fine shot even without his spectacles, his proficiency with a pistol improving greatly ever since he began shooting lessons with Mr. Harrison Sinclair.” Temperance nodded Harrison’s way. “It’s well known throughout the city that Harrison is an expert marksman.”

  “Which is why it’s fortunate you encountered me instead of Mr. Sinclair,” Mr. Barclay added, settling back in his chair. “He’s also known throughout the city as a very dangerous gentleman and might not have shown you the same courtesy I did of merely trying to scare you instead of shoot you.” He nodded to Temperance. “I do hope I may count on you to explain to Miss Snook why there’s now a lovely hole in the wall of her school. She’s a bit frightening, and I am an elderly, feeble sort.”

  Temperance’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re also evidently a great weaver of tales. But you did race to my rescue, so I’ll explain the hole to Miss Snook, though there’s always the possibility we can repair it before she takes notice.”

  “Takes notice of what?”

  Turning toward the door, Gilbert found Miss Snook standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, her glasses perched on the very edge of her nose.

  “I thought you were teaching a class,” Temperance said somewhat weakly.

  “It’s rather difficult to teach a class when a gunshot distracted all of my students. I was forced to abandon the lesson to come investigate the matter.” Miss Snook looked over the rim of her glasses at Mercy and Eugene. “I see we have more unexpected guests.”

  Eugene surprised Gilbert when he rose to his feet and bowed Miss Snook’s way. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. We didn’t mean to make a ruckus. I’m Eugene Miner, and that there”—he nodded to Mercy—“is my sister, Miss Mercy Miner.”

  “I’m Miss Snook, proprietress of this school,” Miss Snook tilted her head. “May I assume you’re here to enroll in the school, but through some manner of misunderstanding, were taken for shifty sorts?”

  Eugene scratched his head. “We sure was taken for shifty sorts, ma’am, but getting back to that school business you mentioned, I thought this here school was a school for the women.”

  “It is, but we aren’t so rigid with our enrollment that we’re not open to exceptions.”

  Eugene stopped scratching his head. “Huh, that’s odd, but we ain’t here to enroll in your school.”

  Miss Snook’s gaze lingered on Mercy, who’d uncrossed her arms and was now sitting forward on the settee. “Because I don’t care to pry unless that prying is encouraged, I won’t ask any other questions of you two, but do know that enrollment in my school is an option for you in the future.” She turned and nodded to Agent McParland, who’d risen to his feet as well. “And you would be?”

  “I’m Agent Samuel McParland, Miss Snook. Detective with the Pinkerton Agency.”

  Miss Snook stiffened just the slightest bit. “How lovely. And now, since no one seems to be bleeding all over the library floor, I think it may be for the best if I return to class and leave all of you to return to whatever it was I interrupted.”

  Turning smartly on her heel, Miss Snook quit the library.

  “Was it something I said?” Agent McParland asked as he retook his seat.

  “Miss Snook can be somewhat abrupt, Agent McParland,” Temperance said. “Do not take it personally.” She smiled. “Now then, where were we?”

  “I think you were about ready to order some tea and cake,” Mercy said.

  “Forgive me, Mercy, I forgot about the tea and cakes.” Temperance nodded to Gertrude, who didn’t hesitate to stand and walk out of the room, obviously on her way to order refreshments from the kitchen.

  “Thank you, Miss Flowerdew,” Mercy said, rubbing her stomach. “Me and Eugene are a little hungry. We used up all of our money to get back to New York and haven’t had a meal for what feels like months.”

  Harrison shook his head and headed after Gertrude, evidently on his way to order something more substantial than tea and cake.

  “Good heavens, the bolts of fabric I retrieved from Rutherford & Company are lying piggly-wiggly about in the kitchen, and Mr. Sinclair is not supposed to see them,” Mr. Barclay exclaimed, practically jumping out of his chair before he bolted out of the library.

  “I wonder if he realizes Harrison isn’t a gentleman prone to noticing things like bolts of fabric,” Gilbert said to no one in particular, earning a nod in response from Agent McParland before that gentleman cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

  “While we wait for tea, may I suggest we get down to business, specifically, what the two of you need to warn Miss Flowerdew about, or better yet
, the circumstances that caused you to abduct her in the first place.” Agent McParland settled his undivided attention on Mercy and Eugene.

  Mercy tugged on her beard. “We weren’t supposed to abduct this Miss Flowerdew, but the other Miss Flowerdew, a mistake we made on account of getting some wrong information from sources we know on the streets.”

  “Having sources on the street implies you’ve been involved with criminal acts for some time now,” Agent McParland said.

  Releasing a snort, Mercy shook her head. “It don’t imply nothing of the sort. Me and Eugene have been employed in service for years and years, but were released from our last position with a measly two dollars and no references. We was getting hungry, had no place to live, and that’s why we took on the job to abduct Miss Flowerdew. And, just so we’re clear, our sources were other people of the serving sort who had been let go from the last house we worked at.” She looked to Temperance. “One of the maids I used to work with pointed you out to me the day before we snatched you up, telling me you always started your day at a little bakery down Broadway. I thought it would be easier to snatch you right after you left the bakery then to wait until you were going to your dance class because me and Eugene couldn’t find out where that dance academy was, not since we done forgot the name of the place.”

  “You never did explain why Mrs. Baldwin released you from service,” Temperance said.

  Eugene let out a grunt. “We didn’t do nothing wrong to get dismissed from our positions. Mrs. Baldwin decided it wasn’t helping her rise up the social ladder to keep on staff that didn’t speak English so good. She got rid of the lot of us and hired her on some servants who speak some fancy language.”

  “French,” Mercy added. “But the people she hired on don’t really speak French. They just learned enough words to make her believe they did.”

  Temperance’s eyes flashed. “And she didn’t bother to give her former staff references?”