by Jen Turano
“Only because she was almost mowed over by Permilia the last time Gertrude took to the dance floor at my engagement celebration and someone”—he shot a look to Gilbert who managed to send him a weak smile in return—“completely neglected to remember that Permilia once maimed a gentleman while trying to perform that polka. That someone also apparently thought I’d be pleased as punch to have the polka offered on my special night instead of the Go-As-You-Please.”
“Isn’t it splendid how the violet in Asher’s neckcloth will exactly match the violet gown Permilia has chosen to wear tonight?” Gilbert asked Temperance, not abashed in the least to change the topic so abruptly. Unfortunately, his method of distraction had Temperance leaning down and peering into his eyes again.
“He’s concussed for certain. I’ve never known Gilbert to take notice of a neckcloth matching a lady’s gown before. It’s unprecedented behavior and a clear cause for concern.”
Asher leaned forward and peered into Gilbert’s face as well. “He looks fine to me, Temperance, if you discount the two black eyes, blood smeared all over his face, and the abysmal state of his clothing.” He straightened and smiled. “But that can be expected when one tangles with criminals on more than one occasion in a single day.”
“You’ve heard about the ambush?”
“Indeed, Gilbert told me all about it after I offered him a ride when I spotted him and Tobias limping down the road, their carriage apparently not fit to be driven since it’s missing a wheel.”
“Your carriage is missing a wheel?” Temperance asked.
Gilbert nodded. “Broke off when the horses bolted down an alley, but the horses are fine, if that was your next question.”
“What about the men who attacked you?” Temperance pressed.
“They were apprehended by the Pinkerton agents and taken off to jail,” Tobias said, stepping forward. “Unfortunately, once they were captured, they refused to say much, except to demand they be allowed to speak with an attorney.” He shook his head. “The Pinkertons are convinced these men are professional killers because of how they attacked us. But it’s odd that professional killers would sport British accents, implying they’d come all the way from England to try to kill us. Not that I’ve been in this country long, but I’m sure there must be assassins in America looking for work.”
Temperance’s eyes turned distant, and then she drew in a sharp breath and settled her attention on him. “What if these particular assassins were hired not to kill Mr. Gilbert Cavendish but to kill the new Earl of Strafford?”
For the briefest of moments, Gilbert considered that idea, wondering if he was a bit concussed because he’d been so focused on the idea that someone wanted Temperance dead, he’d never once considered he might be the main target.
“But that’s brilliant, Temperance,” Edwina said, striding back into the room. “And now that your theory has been broached, I must say it makes a great deal of sense. From what I remember, Gilbert’s brother supposedly died in a yacht accident, but if that wasn’t the case . . .” She turned to Gilbert. “I’ll send a note off to Samuel, explaining this latest development that demands investigating at once. While I’m doing that, make sure you don’t leave Temperance’s side, and . . . watch your back.” Turning, Edwina glided out of the room, the train of her brilliant red gown whispering against the marble.
“I have a feeling Agent McParland is going to have a time of it tonight keeping the admirers at bay,” Asher said, nodding to where Edwina had just disappeared from sight.
Temperance rolled her eyes. “Edwina won’t pay any mind to admirers. She’s determined to marry Samuel and has eyes only for him. If you ask me, I imagine her selection of that delectable gown she’s wearing was a calculated choice, intended to speed matters up with the man.”
“And that right there,” Gilbert began, “is why I’m thankful my mother never had any other children, especially daughters. They seem to turn scary as they age.”
Temperance reached out and poked his arm. “I do believe you just insulted me since you’ve remarked time and time again over the years that I’m like the sister you never had.”
Gilbert poked her right back. “I was wrong about that idea because I don’t believe I’d have asked you to marry me if I thought of you in a sisterly fashion, nor do I believe you think of me in a brotherly way because you did, well . . . kiss me.”
Narrowing her eyes on him, and turning a delightful shade of pink, Temperance opened her mouth, and then, to his surprise, she closed it as if she had no words to say. Fortunately, Asher, who always had plenty to say, especially when awkward pauses descended on a crowd, cleared his throat.
“It is regrettable that Edwina still seems determine to pursue a position with the Pinkertons,” Asher said, releasing a dramatic sigh. “I would love if she’d agree to become the face of Rutherford & Company. She recently turned down that particular offer again, all due to the pesky notion that she’ll hardly be taken seriously if she allows her beautiful face to be used in all the fashion catalogs.”
“That, and she could hardly expect to go undercover if everyone sees her face all over the city,” Temperance said.
“Which was exactly the point Edwina’s twin sister, Adelaide, made when I approached her about the position after Edwina turned me down.” Asher released another sigh. “Although . . .” He suddenly got a very calculating look in his eyes right before he began considering Gilbert far too intensely.
Gilbert immediately shook his head. “Do not even think about it.”
“Think about what?” Temperance asked.
Asher turned a charming smile on Temperance. “I wonder if you could convince our dear friend here”—he nodded to Gilbert—“to agree to become the face of my store.”
Temperance’s brows drew together. “The face he’s currently sporting, or his normal one, the one that doesn’t come with two black eyes and blood covering it?”
Asher looked Gilbert over again, tapping a finger against his chin. “He’s dangerous looking right now, and that could work to our advantage. Pair the danger with his new title and”—he threw out his arm, making an arch with it—“picture this . . . Gilbert standing . . . or perhaps sitting on a horse, but not his pathetic horse, Blaze, in front of an entrance to a castle. He’s wearing clothing from my store, looking dangerous and . . . in script below the picture we could write . . . Rutherford & Company—the store favored by the Earl of Strafford.”
“Put that right out of your head,” Gilbert muttered as Temperance sent him a cheeky grin.
“It would definitely draw business to Asher’s store.”
“At my expense.”
“You could be a face of the store as well, Temperance,” Asher continued, his eyes practically brimming with excitement. “We could do something about an elusive countess, mysterious, beautiful, and . . . you could be the face for the new perfume Permilia is in the process of having developed.”
Temperance, to Gilbert’s surprise, turned her grin on Asher. “Tempting, but no. I’m content to live without my face being used. Besides, it would be false advertising since Gilbert and I will eventually let it be known to the public that we’ve discovered we don’t suit, which means I’ll never be a countess.”
“You never thought you’d be rid of your Flowerdew relatives or given an opportunity to teach in this school, so never isn’t always a never,” Asher countered before he nodded to Gilbert. “But before I get myself embroiled in a situation that will more than likely have one or both of you cross with me, and since this is supposed to be a night of celebration, we need to get you put to rights, as well as Tobias,” he added with a nod to Tobias.
“I’m not sure how we’re going to go about that,” Gilbert said. “If it has escaped your notice, I’m missing a sleeve and covered with mud.”
“Which is why I already took the liberty of sending a request for new clothing off to my store for both of you. It’ll be delivered here directly, so all that remains to be done
in the meantime is for both of you to go off and find a bathing chamber.”
Gilbert reached up and untied the neckcloth he just then realized seemed to be strangling him, the silk of it apparently beginning to shrink after being doused with water from one of the puddles he’d rolled around in. He drew it off and held it up.
“Any chance you have another one of these to spare for me, and . . .” He glanced to Tobias and found his valet’s neckcloth was looking the worse for wear as well. “One for Tobias.”
“Of course. I brought an entire box of neckcloths with me in the carriage.”
Stepping closer to Gilbert, Temperance considered the necktie he was holding. “Not that I want to point out the obvious, Gilbert, but orange mixed with green is a somewhat bold choice for you.”
Gilbert stuffed his ruined neckcloth into a pocket. “Asher and I decided that to embrace the spirt of the evening, it would be amusing if we offered the gentlemen outlandish neckcloths to wear, in striking colors no less, to compliment the bright gowns of the ladies.”
“You and Asher decided to equip all of the gentleman with unusual neckwear?”
“Simply because we’re gentlemen who prefer to embrace a more sensible approach to life doesn’t mean we can’t be unpredictable at times.”
Asher nodded. “Indeed, and while it is true that Gilbert and I enjoy a more structured, organized, and in Gilbert’s case, scheduled way of life, we’re perfectly capable of adopting a sense of fun and adventure. I can personally attest that since Permilia barreled her way into my heart, I’ve adopted a more carefree attitude, one that still requires structure every now and again, but balanced by a new appreciation for chaos.”
He gestured to Gilbert before smiling at Temperance. “And one can tell by simply looking at poor Gilbert that he’s beginning to experience his own type of chaos—chaos that began practically from the moment he reunited with you.”
“I’m not embracing a life of chaos,” Gilbert argued. “Unlike you, I’m still very fond of keeping to my schedule, and the only reason I’m looking a little out of sorts is because I was ambushed.”
“You missed three appointments with me this week alone, one of which concerned actual business about an import opportunity I broached with you a month ago.”
“You must be mistaken. I never miss appointments.”
Asher smiled, sent a discreet nod Temperance’s way, as if she explained everything, then shrugged. “While it is true that you never used to miss appointments, according to your secretary, Mrs. Martin, your schedule is a complete disaster, rendered that way because you’ve missed appointments that she’s now trying to reschedule.” Asher gave a sad shake of his head. “The poor lady even went so far as to encourage me to encourage you to set up an appointment with your physician, and the sooner the better.”
“Which is exactly what I suggested when I noticed he was having a difficult time focusing just a short time ago,” Temperance said, plunking her hands on her hips and sending him a look that clearly said I told you so.
“I think he’s fine now, Miss Flowerdew,” Tobias said, speaking up and saving Gilbert from trying to explain his lack of focus had all been due to his fascination with her perfume. “But if you’ll excuse us, we really must repair to a retiring room to set ourselves to rights.”
“Shall I see if I have a neckcloth for Gilbert that will match that enchanting gown you’re wearing, Temperance?” Asher asked, and just like that, Temperance seemed to completely forget about him as she sent a scowl Asher’s way.
“The very last thing Gilbert and I need is to allow the gossips more fodder to share over tea tomorrow. If we’re seen at the ball wearing matching colors, everyone will assume the articles in all the papers are true. And before you know it, Gilbert and I will have no avenue to escape the mayhem those articles have certainly caused around town. I’ll then find myself sailing across the ocean and taking on a role I have no desire to take on.” She glanced his way. “No offense.”
“None taken. I understand why you don’t want to become a countess, and I only wish I had the option of turning down my new title of earl as well.”
Temperance narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you want to accept the legacy of your father’s family?”
“I wasn’t raised to become an aristocrat, which will become glaringly obvious once I land in England. I don’t believe the nobility will go so far as to shun me, not with the title and large fortune I have at my disposal. But even knowing that, I would be lying if I said I’m happy about assuming a title I never wanted in the first place.”
As Gilbert got up from his chair, Temperance moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his check.
“Forgive me, Gilbert. I never gave your feelings about becoming an earl any true consideration.”
“Does that mean you’re now feeling sorry for me . . . which will also have you reconsidering your refusal to become my countess since you certainly wouldn’t want your dear friend to face down the British aristocracy alone?”
For the merest of moments, Temperance didn’t say a single word, but then her lips quirked into the smallest of grins even as she shook her head. “You really are suffering from a concussed state if you think you can convince me that taking pity on you is reason enough for me to take on the daunting role of countess.”
“But is it reason enough to think about taking on that role if I tell you I’ll be beyond forlorn to travel over to England without you by my side?”
Biting her lip, Temperance gazed at him with something curious in her eyes before she finally blew out a breath. “Honestly, Gilbert, when you put it that way, well . . . hmm . . .” Turning on her heel, she headed for the door, leaving him with a bit of unexpected hope when he was somewhat certain he heard her mumble “I suppose I’ll need to give this matter more thought,” before she walked out of sight.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“You do realize you cannot hide out in my suite of rooms for the entire evening, don’t you?”
Temperance finished pouring a cup of tea for Miss Snook and straightened, trying to hide a smile as she looked at the woman buried beneath a mountain of blankets. Considering she’d seen Miss Snook stash a novel underneath one of those blankets, plus a plate of cookies if she wasn’t much mistaken, she was rapidly coming to the conclusion there was absolutely nothing wrong with the woman, even though Miss Snook was claiming to be wracked with a ferocious fever and pounding head.
“You seem to be fine with the idea of hiding out,” she said, handing Miss Snook the cup.
“That’s because I’m desperately ill and have no wish to pass along my illness to the swarms of guests who are even now taking over my school.” Miss Snook took a sip of her tea. “But since you do need to return soon because Gertrude is your dear friend and you can’t abandon her on her special night, tell me why you’re lingering in my room, and do not give me that nonsense about wanting to check in on me again. In case you’ve neglected to realize this, we’ve not had much of an opportunity to become well acquainted since you began teaching at this school. In my humble opinion, what with the ball about to commence, now seems like a very peculiar time for you to decide to remedy that.”
“You’re far too astute for your own good.”
“Thank you,” Miss Snook said primly.
“I know you’re not ill.”
“That would be difficult to prove, and you’re trying to distract me.”
Temperance heaved a sigh. “Alva Vanderbilt is here, along with Caroline Astor, and they both set their sights on me after they ambled through the receiving line, and . . . coward that I apparently am, I fled.”
Miss Snook inclined her head. “I might have done the same thing, but I was under the belief Gertrude wasn’t inviting the crème de la crème of society.”
“Gertrude felt that since she’d been invited to the elaborate Vanderbilt ball this past March, it would be less than gracious of her to exclude Alva Vanderbilt. And since Alva is now on spe
aking terms with Caroline Astor, and Mrs. Astor is the queen of society, she needed to be invited as well. I’m sorry to say that with all the mayhem in my life as of late, I completely neglected to remember those two ladies were coming. I was unprepared to handle them and the questions they were certain to ask about Gilbert.”
“Perhaps you should hide here all night.”
Temperance nodded. “That would be lovely. I could read out loud to you from the book you were perusing before I disturbed you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of reading to myself, although I do thank you for offering. But you can’t miss the ball.”
“I know, and I’m only intending on hiding out until most of the guests make it through the receiving line. One of the Pinkerton agents actually sought me out before I fled and suggested I remove myself from the vicinity of that line because the crowd of gawkers was growing concerning on the sidewalk outside the school. Not wanting to make myself an easy target if someone in that crowd is one of the people trying to see me dead, I agreed it would be a prudent choice to make myself scarce, so here I am.” She tilted her head. “And while I know you’re claiming to be desperately ill, you’re looking rather fit to me, so tell me this—why don’t you really want to attend the ball?”
“Why don’t you really want to marry Gilbert Cavendish?”
“I see you’re plowing full steam ahead with the getting-acquainted-with-me opportunity, but . . . I asked first, so . . .”
Miss Snook pulled one of the blankets up to her chin, glared at Temperance, and then wrinkled her nose when she seemed to realize she wasn’t cowing Temperance in the least.
“That was my most intimidating look,” she muttered.
“I lived with Wayne, Fanny, and Clementine Flowerdew for years. I’m quite accustomed to being glared at and it doesn’t bother me at all.”
“How annoying.”
“Quite, but . . . ?”
For a moment, Temperance didn’t believe Miss Snook was going to say anything, but then, she lowered the blanket, thrust a hand underneath it, pulled out her plate of cookies, and offered one to Temperance.