by Jen Turano
“I’ve never accidentally shot a pistol off before,” Eunice said, causing Nicholas to jump when she appeared directly by his side.
“That almost suggests you make a habit of intentionally shooting your pistol.”
“There’s no almost about it,” Eunice said before she stopped a short distance from where at least eight ladies, dressed in a variety of nightclothes, were lined up on the staircase.
One lady leaned over the railing. “Dare I hope you were successful with your mission tonight, Gabriella?”
Gabriella released a sigh. “I’m afraid not, Betsy. I didn’t find the evidence we were hoping for in Mrs. Birkhoff’s safe.”
A murmur met Gabriella’s response before all eight ladies turned and hurried up the staircase, someone saying something about how distressed Mrs. Moore was going to be upon learning such disheartening news.
“Where are they going?” Nicholas asked.
“I imagine they’re heading up to the third floor to console one of our residents who is certain to be devastated when she learns Gabriella was not successful tonight,” Eunice said, motioning him down the hallway with her pistol. “I also imagine they weren’t keen to linger in your presence since they’re dressed in nightclothes. I’m sure you’d hardly expect them to join us in such a state. It might cause unseemly gossip.”
“I would never remark on seeing a lady in her nightclothes.”
“How lovely to discover you adhere to the rules of gentlemanly behavior,” Eunice said.
“Does that mean you’re going to put away your pistol?”
“Not a chance.”
“Perhaps Eunice would consider lowering her pistol if you were to clean all that blood from your face,” Gabriella suggested. “You’re looking incredibly derelict at the moment, so you really can’t blame her for being cautious.”
“I’m not opposed to cleaning up.”
“Wonderful,” Gabriella said, tugging him down the hallway. She stopped and gestured to a small room. “You may wash up in there. Fresh linens can be found in a basket under the sink.” She released his arm and walked back to join Eunice, who’d stopped in front of the door to the parlor, her pistol lowered but still gripped in her hand.
Hoping Gabriella was right and Eunice would be more receptive to him when he wasn’t covered in blood, Nicholas stepped into the retiring room, pleased to discover the sink had running water—hot and cold, and that the basket of linens under the sink had a few pieces of linen that were clean but well used. Grabbing one of those, he adjusted the water to warm, wincing time and again as he went about the daunting business of scrubbing off the blood that was now caked to his face.
Twenty minutes later, he was feeling much improved, although he was beginning to sport rather spectacular black eyes and his nose definitely seemed to be off-kilter, something he’d worry about after he returned home for the night.
Taking a sip of the coffee Gabriella handed him when he’d joined her in the parlor, he shot a look to Eunice, who was sitting across from him, her pistol lying on her lap.
The manner in which Eunice kept turning her veiled head his way as Gabriella and Daphne disclosed the particulars of the evening was incredibly unnerving, but because he had yet to get a single answer to any of the questions he longed to ask Gabriella, he couldn’t very well take his leave.
“Do you think you might be able to convince Eunice to put that pistol away since, clearly, I’m not a threat?” he asked, leaning closer to Gabriella and lowering his voice.
“Since Ivan Chernoff, Eunice’s man who’s responsible for a variety of tasks around the boardinghouse, one of those tasks being protecting the occupants, is shut up in his room with a severe stomach ailment, I doubt she’ll tuck her pistol away, even if I suggest that to her.”
“Of course I’m not going to tuck my pistol away,” Eunice said, which had Nicholas freezing on the spot and wondering how in the world she’d been able to hear them, given how quietly he’d asked the question. She gave her pistol a pat. “I’ve yet to discover how you’re involved in any of this, Mr. Quinn, and until I’m satisfied that you’re not a questionable character, my pistol will remain within easy reach.”
Having no idea how to prove he wasn’t a questionable character, Nicholas turned to Gabriella, hoping she’d come to his defense, but before she could utter a single word, Elsy and Ann hustled into the room, looking rather harried, with Winston loping beside them.
“Finally got the horses and carriage into the carriage house,” Elsy said, stopping beside Eunice. “I don’t believe I would have been able to do that without Gus’s assistance.”
Ann gave a roll of her eyes. “You wouldn’t have been able to even turn the horses around if Gus hadn’t taken pity on you.” She nodded to Winston. “Gus left the carriage door open, and this beast jumped out. Took another year off my life when I got my first look at him, and after suffering through Elsy’s driving tonight, I’m not sure I have many years left.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Elsy argued before she turned to Gabriella. “Would you care for me and Ann to join you? We’ve both got early schedules tomorrow, but if there’s anything you need us to recount, we’ll stay.”
“Daphne’s just finished filling Eunice in,” Gabriella said. “I think it’ll be fine if the two of you repair for the evening.”
Ann caught Nicholas’s eye. “Do be sure to extend our appreciation to Gus again for his assistance. He’s such a darling man—and quite handsome to boot.” With that, Ann walked for the door and quit the room, her sister following her, saying something about Ann’s comment being far too forward, no matter that Gus was, indeed, rather handsome.
Nicholas couldn’t help but think that the night was becoming more curious by the second.
“So, what do you suggest we do now?” Eunice asked. “We’re back to square one.”
Gabriella frowned. “I’m afraid we are, and I’m not certain how we proceed from here.”
Eunice flipped up one of the many layers of veils covering her face. “I believe this is where we turn the conversation to you, Mr. Quinn. What were you doing at the Birkhoff ball tonight?”
“I’m not sure that has any relevance to anything,” he said slowly.
Eunice waved that aside. “I doubt it was a mere coincidence that you wanted to get inside the Birkhoff safe tonight. And like Gabriella, you didn’t take anything from that safe when you had a chance.”
“Perhaps I’m not at liberty to say what I was doing there.”
“If you’re concerned about disclosing a secret to us, Mr. Quinn, you should know that we’re very capable of keeping secrets, since many of us residing in this boardinghouse have them.”
Daphne immediately sat forward. “I wasn’t aware everyone living here had secrets.”
Eunice gave an airy wave of her hand. “Of course they do, yourself included.” She nodded to Nicholas. “As long as you’re not the one responsible for a certain injustice we here at the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency are trying to correct, you have nothing to fear by disclosing your part in tonight’s misadventure.”
Nicholas frowned. “Did you just say the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency?”
“I did.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Daphne said, pulling out her notepad and pencil before she flipped to a blank page and began jotting something down.
Nicholas arched a brow at Eunice. “Why do I get the distinct impression you just made that bit up about the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency?”
“I didn’t just make it up,” Eunice argued. “I’ve been considering the matter ever since we decided to take it upon ourselves to right a grave miscarriage of justice. It’s become evident that every lady who resides here has something to contribute to an inquiry agency. Furthermore, once we’re successful in righting the wrong that has been done to a certain young lady, I imagine we’ll be approached by many women in this city who have need of professional assistance with one matter or another, but often find they have now
here to turn.”
“The police department springs to mind,” Nicholas said.
“The same police department that arrested an innocent young lady and is now refusing to investigate her case further because they believe she’s guilty, even though she’s anything but?”
Nicholas frowned. “What young lady are we talking about?”
Eunice turned to Gabriella. “You didn’t fully explain to him what you were doing breaking into the Birkhoff safe?”
Gabriella shrugged. “I thought he was the Knickerbocker Bandit, so decided the less I said, the better.”
Eunice swung her attention his way again. “Are you the Knickerbocker Bandit?”
“I’m not.”
“Then what were you doing at the Birkhoff residence tonight?” Eunice pressed. “If you weren’t there for nefarious purposes, could it be that you’re a Pinkerton agent, looking for evidence for a case you’re working on?”
Nicholas raked a hand through his hair. “I’m not a Pinkerton, but since I doubt you’ll be satisfied until I disclose all, allow me to say this—I recently made the acquaintance of Agent Cooper Clifton, who is a Pinkerton agent. He grew up in Five Points and recognized me as I took a turn around Central Park one day. He knew I’d been . . .” He stopped talking as his gaze sharpened on Eunice. “You swear all of what I’m about to disclose will remain confidential?”
Eunice looked to Gabriella, who nodded, then to Daphne, who didn’t nod, but that was because she was still consumed with her notes. “It will.”
Nicholas inclined his head. “Very well, then, I’ll continue. Agent Clifton recognized me as being a protégé of Humphrey Rookwood, a notable criminal, having seen me wandering the streets of our mutual neighborhood back in my youth. Because Agent Clifton grew up in Five Points and was always bothered by the criminal activity he witnessed there, he decided to become a Pinkerton agent, and he’s well on his way to becoming one of the best Pinkerton agents of the day. That’s why, when a case came to him that was going to require some rather unorthodox measures, he sought me out, as I’d given him my direction after enjoying our chat that day in the park. He thought, what with the skills I possessed back in the day, that I might be the perfect candidate to go to the Birkhoff ball and take a peek into Mrs. Birkhoff’s safe.”
Daphne looked up from her notes. “If he’s a Pinkerton man, why wouldn’t he want to see into the safe?”
“Because Pinkertons are bound by the law. Their reputation would suffer if they were caught using questionable tactics to secure evidence.”
“And your reputation wouldn’t have suffered if you’d been caught?” Daphne asked.
“Not since I had a foolproof excuse if I did get caught.”
“There’s no such thing as a foolproof excuse,” Gabriella argued.
“I beg to differ.” He stuck a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a domino mask. “I was intending on donning this and claiming I’d come to the ball as a guest if I was discovered—my costume representing the great thief Jonathan Wild.”
“I’ve never heard of him,” Gabriella said.
“Not many people have, but he was a notorious English thief back in the 1700s who lived on both sides of the law. I read about him a few years back and decided to use him as my disguise.”
Gabriella wrinkled her nose. “But if you had your disguise worked out, why didn’t you simply walk through the front door instead of climbing through the window?”
“It seemed more adventurous to enter the house by way of the roof.”
“Why did you refuse to carry Daphne through the house then?” Gabriella pressed. “You had a domino at your disposal, which would have concealed your identity and made a trip out the window unnecessary.”
He shifted on the seat. “I didn’t want to push my luck. Professor Cameron, the man I mentioned to you earlier, was to be in attendance at the ball. It would have distressed him to see me dressed as a thief.”
“I’m afraid I must have been unconscious when this Professor Cameron was brought into conversation,” Daphne said, tapping her pencil against her notepad. “How does he fit in with all of this?”
Nicholas shook his head. “He doesn’t. He’s merely the man I look to as an honorary uncle, although I don’t address him as Uncle Lawrence—Lawrence being his given name—but Professor Cameron because that’s what everyone calls him.”
“You consider this professor, the man who took you away from Rookwood, your honorary uncle?” Gabriella asked.
“After spending so many years with him, we’ve become quite close. He provided me with an extensive education, which led me to discover a love for reading, which then led to me acquiring a rather extensive vocabulary, which addresses that question you had about my using unexpected words. His diligence with attempting to turn me into a proper gentleman earned my unwavering respect, and I still try hard not to disappoint him. That’s why I didn’t want to risk getting caught carrying Daphne out of the ball. That would have garnered questions, some of which could have embarrassed the professor.”
Eunice sat forward. “This has nothing to do with what you were doing at the ball, but how was it possible for this Professor Cameron to turn you into a gentleman? Did he send you off to boarding school?”
Nicholas shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been ready to attend boarding school when I first went to live with the man. I could barely read. He took me to his house on the Hudson. Once there, I was provided with tutors, dance instructors, and etiquette teachers.”
“And you just accepted your new circumstances without a fuss?” Gabriella asked.
Nicholas shrugged. “After you disappeared, I didn’t really care about anything for a while. I thought that going to live with Professor Cameron would give me a way to distance myself from my old life, one that you were no longer a part of.”
“I would have thought you’d find all those lessons stifling.”
“Oh, I did at first, but then I attended a church service that had me rethinking everything.”
“Professor Cameron made you attend church?”
“He did, believing every man should have a solid foundation of faith to guide them through life.” Nicholas smiled. “One Sunday, about three months after I went to live with the professor, a sermon struck me and has stayed with me all these years later. The minister that day chose to speak about gifts we receive from God. And as I sat there listening to it, I realized that the minister could have been speaking directly to me because I had been given a gift from God—the gift of opportunity. That opportunity opened many doors for me and presented me with a way to secure a comfortable future.”
“How so?” Gabriella asked.
“Mostly through investments the professor advised me to make after we discovered my aptitude for finance and industrial ventures. Using Professor Cameron’s reputation within society, I was introduced to gentlemen connected with the major railroad and oil companies, who then invited me to invest in their companies.”
Gabriella frowned over the rim of her cup. “Why would you have needed Professor Cameron’s reputation to invest in those companies? I would think anyone would be allowed to make investments, since, from what I know, men of business are only worried about their bottom lines.”
“One would think that would be the case, but it’s not so when dealing with wealthy men who are connected to high society. They want assurances that the men they’re allowing to invest have credibility, something my association with Professor Cameron provided me with. If not for the professor, I would not have been allowed to purchase stocks in those companies and would not now be in a comfortable financial situation.”
Eunice lifted up another veil, revealing a hint of her face in the process. “I’m beginning to understand why you were reluctant to disclose your story to us because I’ve just recalled that Professor Cameron is a member of the New York Four Hundred. Am I wrong in concluding that he somehow managed to get you accepted into society, a society that would never allow a
former street urchin into their midst if they knew the truth about your past?”
Nicholas saw Gabriella stiffen but knew there was no way to avoid Eunice’s question. “Professor Cameron did get me admitted into society.”
A hint of something interesting flickered through Gabriella’s eyes. “How, pray tell, did he do that?”
“Well, once he decided I’d been sufficiently polished up, he introduced me to society as his nephew, the only son of his late sister.”
Gabriella’s lips thinned. “Society believes you’re truly Professor Cameron’s nephew, not merely an honorary one?”
“Do you realize your tone has taken on a bit of an edge?”
“Of course it’s taken on an edge. You’ve clearly been fraternizing with the enemy—that being members of New York high society.”
“I’m not fraternizing with the enemy.”
Gabriella waved that aside. “You might as well tell me the worst of it.”
“Why do you assume there’s more?”
“Because there’s a small vein throbbing by your hairline. It always throbs when there’s something you’re reluctant to disclose. In this case, I’m assuming you don’t want to say something I’ll certainly take issue with—such as you being married to a society lady.”
“I’m not married . . . yet.”
“I’ve just noticed that the laces on the back of my Cleopatra costume feel somewhat loose,” Daphne said, jumping to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to nip up to my attic room and fix them.”
“You’ll need someone to help you,” Eunice said, rising from her chair and, together, she and Daphne practically dashed across the room and out the door.
Nicholas frowned as they disappeared from sight. “They evidently seem to believe something concerning is about to happen.”
“They’re very astute that way,” Gabriella said through a mouth that barely moved. “But returning to your married state, exactly what did you mean that you’re not married yet?”
He raked a hand through his hair again. “I’m not certain how to go about explaining this to you. We’ve been apart for years, and while I now know you weren’t sent away on an orphan train, I get the distinct feeling that you’ve not seen many advantages in your life.”