To Steal a Heart

by Jen Turano

  “What do you think we should do with the Linwood jewels?” Gabriella asked.

  “Leave them to me,” Daphne said. “I’ll take them to the attic and put them in my safe.” She walked over to the chair and scooped them up. She then settled her attention on Precious. “Come on, girl. You can help me stand guard tonight.”

  Precious pranced to Daphne’s side, and together they left the room, Precious’s topknot bobbing with every step she took.

  “You ain’t really plannin’ on making us stay here, are you?” Henrietta asked, drawing Gabriella’s attention.

  She moved closer to the little girl and knelt down beside her. “You’re obviously terrified of whomever sent you here tonight. That suggests this person is capable of meting out punishments for the slightest infraction. And you did fail with your task, which means you’re in danger of suffering some type of punishment.”

  “But even if we was to stay here tonight, he’ll find us. He always does.”

  “He won’t,” Gabriella said firmly. “I’m quite clever when I set my mind to it, and I promise you that I’ll figure out a way to keep you safe from this man forever.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened. “You’re plannin’ on keeping us forever?”

  “I’m planning on offering you a chance at a better life.” She nodded to Eunice. “You’ll see to it that they’re fed?”

  “I will.” Eunice turned to the children. “Alma made chicken and dumplings for dinner tonight. I know there’s some left over in the icebox. Pie too.”

  “Pie?” Charlie breathed.

  “Pie,” Eunice repeated. “But you’ll only get that pie if you behave, so . . .”

  “We’ll behave . . . for now.”

  Eunice laughed. “I do so love a challenge.” With that, she motioned the children forward and left the room, Phillip beside her.

  Telling Nicholas and Agent Clifton she’d join them after she changed, Gabriella waited until the two men left the room, then walked to her wardrobe. Anticipation began humming through her at the thought of speaking with Rookwood again, and not only because he might have answers regarding the Knickerbocker Bandit. She could feel it in her bones that he knew something about her past, and it was high time she learned exactly what that something was.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Four

  “When you said you were going to change your clothes, it never crossed my mind you’d change into trousers,” Nicholas said, glancing to the trousers Gabriella was wearing, ones that she’d paired with a jacket, an artfully tied cravat, a black bowler hat, and matching black gloves.

  “The last time I saw Rookwood, I was dressed as a boy. I thought it only fitting that I return dressed as a man. Besides, it’ll be safer if everyone in Five Points thinks I’m a man.”

  “You look nothing like a man.”

  “Daphne assured me my disguise was credible.”

  “Did she have her spectacles on when she made that dubious claim?”

  “You know, they may have been pushed up on her head.”

  “And there you have it,” Nicholas said, exchanging an amused glance with Agent Clifton before he looked out the carriage window, knowing they were getting closer because the gas lamps were becoming farther apart and there was a general air of decay and neglect swirling around them.

  “Any thoughts as to who might be behind the rumors about you being the Knickerbocker Bandit?” Agent Clifton asked.

  “Too many to count,” Gabriella returned. “I suppose the most obvious suspect at this point would be Mrs. Allen.”

  “She did threaten to kill you,” Nicholas said.

  Gabriella rolled her eyes. “She didn’t threaten to kill me. She was just annoyed that I had the audacity to stand up to her. But I wouldn’t put it past her to spread nasty rumors, especially given how put out she seemed about our waltz.”

  “You were an invited guest,” Nicholas pointed out. “Guests are expected to dance with one another, especially at a ball.”

  “While the Bleecker Street ladies and I were invited guests, our presence was only tolerated because Jennette has now become the darling of society and no one wanted to annoy her by voicing the inappropriateness of inviting women who live in a boardinghouse to what is certain to be deemed one of the events of the year.”

  Agent Clifton leaned forward. “Do you think Mrs. Allen has the resources to hire someone to frame you?”

  Gabriella frowned. “That is the question of the hour, because even if she is the one behind the rumors, it seems unlikely that ladies of society are suddenly stepping their dainty toes into the derelict underworld of the city.”

  “She might have gotten the idea by taking a page out of Celeste Wilkins’s book,” Nicholas suggested.

  “True, but the ball was only last night, so how would she have been able to seek out the services of a criminal? It’s not as if they post advertisements in the paper, bragging about their criminal abilities.”

  “An excellent point,” Agent Clifton agreed. “But one that leaves me with more questions than answers.”

  Gabriella nodded. “Which is why we’re on our way to speak with Rookwood. If anyone has relevant thoughts on the matter, he will.” She glanced out the window. “I’d forgotten how close Five Points is to Bleecker Street. It’s barely taken us thirty minutes to get here, but it’s as if we’ve traded one world for a completely different one.”

  Nicholas looked out the window again, his gaze traveling over the raggedly dressed people who were wandering around outside, even though the night had turned frigid and snow was beginning to fall. “I can’t say I miss living here.”

  “Me either,” Gabriella said. “Given Gus’s reaction when we asked him to drive us to Five Points, he also doesn’t seem to pine for his old home.” She smiled. “He certainly didn’t mind when Eunice handed him two pistols and a rifle.”

  Nicholas returned the smile. “Gus definitely didn’t mind being armed, although I have to admit I’m relieved he’s driving us tonight instead of Fritz. Gus is not easily rattled, whereas Fritz would have been beside himself. He’s always been a quiet sort, and I remember Rookwood keeping Fritz close to home, finding tasks for him around the house instead of sending him out on criminal endeavors.”

  “Who’s Fritz?” Agent Clifton asked.

  “He’s my usual coachman, but he’s taken time off because his child’s been unwell. I received a message from him the other day, telling me he’s taking his family to visit relatives in the country. I’m hoping his child hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, and I’m sorry to say that I’ve not had time to look further into the matter.”

  The carriage slowed, and then turned left, creeping down a street that was pocked with holes that left the carriage shaking.

  Gabriella frowned at Agent Clifton. “You’re sure Rookwood lives on Fulton Street?”

  “That’s what one of my informants told me.”

  “Is he still the most notorious criminal in the city?”

  “It’s difficult to say. Rookwood has been branching out into legitimate business ventures over the last decade, but whether that means he’s abandoned his criminal activities, we simply don’t know.”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Nicholas said as Gus stopped the carriage in front of a three-story house that, while somewhat derelict in appearance, was not nearly as decrepit as most of the houses on the street. “It might be best if Gabriella and I go in alone at first, Agent Clifton. I’ll send for you after we’ve allowed Rookwood time to get over the surprise of us descending on him unannounced.”

  With that, Nicholas stepped from the carriage, then helped Gabriella to the sidewalk. They walked to the house and then up steps that had a light dusting of snow on them. Before Nicholas could knock on the door, it opened, revealing a boy of about twelve.

  “Good evening,” Nicholas began. “We’re here to see Rookwood.”

  “You got an appointment?”

  “We don’t,” Gabriella said. “But
you may tell him that Nicholas and Gabe are here to see him.”

  The boy nodded before he closed the door without bothering to invite them inside.

  Less than a minute later, the door reopened, revealing none other than Humphrey Rookwood.

  Rookwood immediately settled his attention on Gabriella. A blink of an eye later, he’d stepped outside and scooped her into his arms, giving her an enthusiastic hug, which elicited an “Oomph” from Gabriella. He then released her and set his sights on Nicholas.

  An indeterminate emotion clouded Rookwood’s eyes for the briefest of seconds, but then he blinked and the look was gone. He held out his hand, one Nicholas didn’t hesitate to shake, surprised by how glad he was to see the man.

  “Nicholas, how wonderful you look,” Rookwood exclaimed before he withdrew his hand and gestured them into the house. “No sense lingering on the stoop. It’s a horrible night, and I have some wonderful wine and cheese inside.”

  Walking into the house, Nicholas followed Rookwood as he led them down a dim hallway and into a room at the end of the hall. Stepping into that room, Nicholas came to an abrupt stop, his gaze traveling over bookshelves that occupied every wall. A roaring fire in a stone fireplace crackled merrily, and there were comfortable, albeit slightly shabby-looking, chairs scattered about the room and small tables with lamps beside every chair.

  It was a sight he never would have expected to see in Rookwood’s home.

  “I learned to read about a year after the two of you left,” Rookwood said, following Nicholas’s gaze. “Figured learning to read might benefit my circumstances one day, which it most certainly has, and not only because I enjoy delving into a good story every chance I get.” He moved to a table that had a bottle of wine on it. Pouring out three glasses, he handed one to Gabriella, then another to Nicholas, taking the last one for himself. He gestured to the chairs in front of the fire. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

  After Gabriella chose a seat, Nicholas pulled his chair closer to hers and sat down, taking a moment to consider Rookwood as that man settled into a chair in front of the fireplace.

  Rookwood had certainly aged well, although a few wrinkles now lined his face, and there was a wisdom in Rookwood’s eyes that Nicholas had never noticed before.

  Rookwood had always been a large, muscular man, using his physique to intimidate anyone who tried to cross him. And while he was still muscular, he wasn’t as large as Nicholas remembered, although that might have been more based on Nicholas’s impression of him as a boy, when everything always seems so much larger than it is.

  “You’re probably wondering what we’re doing here,” Gabriella began.

  Rookwood took a sip of wine. “I imagine both of you have grown curious about your pasts, and since you’ve clearly found each other again, you’re curious how it came to be that Nicholas thought you were sent off on an orphan train when obviously you weren’t.”

  Gabriella quirked a brow. “You don’t deny lying to Nicholas about that?”

  “No, I definitely lied to him about what happened to you. Truth be told, I learned shortly after you’d been apprehended where you’d been taken. I even traveled to the orphanage to get you released.”

  “But you didn’t get me released.”

  Rookwood ran a hand through black hair that was streaked with gray. “I changed my mind after I saw that you were safe behind the walls of that orphanage—safe from boys like Virgil Miskel, who’d definitely been taking far too much interest in you. You were also safe from Madame Maxine, who’d begun stopping by daily to chat with me, although I knew her chatting was simply a ruse to try and get to you.”

  “You thought Virgil was a threat to Gabriella?” Nicholas asked.

  “Virgil was a threat to everyone, Nicholas, but most especially Gabriella.” Rookwood blew out a breath. “I found him trying to sneak a peek into the bathing chamber when Gabriella was taking a bath, but after I had a very firm talk with him, I thought he was going to discontinue his unacceptable behavior. Concerningly enough, I caught him a few days later drilling a hole into the bathing chamber wall.” He nodded to Gabriella. “You were caught and taken to the orphanage two days after that. Knowing that Virgil was unlikely to stop spying on you, and knowing that I’d be chancing his unpredictable wrath if I threw him out of the house, I made the decision to leave you at the orphanage, even though you would think we abandoned you. Believe me, if I’d had another option, I would have never left you, nor would I have allowed everyone to think you’d been sent out of the city on an orphan train.” He leaned forward, his gaze never wavering from Gabriella’s. “I’ve always felt that God first sent you to me so that I could keep you safe. And I also felt that you getting arrested and sent to the orphanage was God’s way of continuing to keep you safe from so many people who wanted to see you harmed.”

  Gabriella frowned. “I’ve never thought God took much interest in me, nor did I ever think you put much stock in God, considering the life you’ve chosen to lead.”

  “There are reasons why I chose the path I did—reasons I’m not willing to discuss, frustrating as I know you’ll find that. However, I’ve made my peace with God about my criminal past, asked His forgiveness, and have been attempting to redeem myself in His eyes by doing work that isn’t illegal.”

  “What type of work?” Nicholas asked.

  “Shortly after you left, I began buying up buildings and restoring them to the best of my abilities. I then rented out the rooms for a fair price, saving any extra money I made. After I learned to read, I began looking into investments, and while I’m certainly not a wealthy man, I’ve made some decent investment choices. The money I’ve made allows me to get more children off the streets and into permanent homes.” He shook his head. “I’m realistic enough to know I can’t save them all; there are simply too many children abandoned to the streets. However, I’ve recently acquired an old warehouse, which I’m hoping to convert into an orphanage once I save up some money.”

  Rookwood turned back to Gabriella. “But enough about me. You mentioned you don’t believe God takes an interest in your life, but I have to disagree. As I said, from the moment I first met you, I had a feeling God sent you to me, knowing I’d be able to save you.”

  “Save me from what?” Gabriella asked slowly.

  “Certain death.”

  Gabriella blinked. “Someone wanted to murder me?”

  Rookwood stood up and began pacing around the library. “I’ve always known you’d come find me with questions about your past. Frankly, I’ve been dreading this day because the story that you have every right to hear, and one I’m not going to withhold from you, is appalling. But hearing it could also place you in danger.”

  “Danger doesn’t bother me.”

  Rookwood turned. “How well I remember that.” His eyes grew soft as he looked at her. “I suppose the first thing I’ll tell you is this—you look remarkably like your mother.”

  “You knew my mother?”

  “Not personally, but she was one of the most sought-after actresses New York has ever seen. She was capable of enthralling audiences the moment she stepped into the spotlight, and she always played to sold-out crowds.” He smiled. “Her name was Josephine Larrimore, and again, you look remarkably like her, except she had green eyes, and her hair was lighter.”

  Gabriella reached out and took hold of Nicholas’s hand. “A lady recently mistook me for someone named Josephine.”

  Rookwood’s smiled dimmed. “That’s surprising, since she’s been gone for so many years. Perhaps this lady saw some of her shows and never forgot her. I’m sure there are numerous gentlemen in the city who remember Josephine, because she had many admirers, all of whom pursued her relentlessly. She never paid them any mind . . . except one. Your father.”

  “You know who my father was?”

  “I do, but before I disclose that, allow me to explain what I’ve learned about Josephine over the years.” Rookwood retook his seat. “After you came t
o live with me, I made it a point to look into her past and what I’ve learned is this: Josephine was the only child of parents who, when they died, left her all alone with very little money. That unfortunate state had her leaving her home and making her way to New York. It didn’t take her long, given how beautiful she was, to land a job as an actress, where she immediately met with great success.”

  Rookwood reached for his wine and took a sip. “As I said, she had numerous admirers, all of whom were madly in love with her. But it wasn’t until she met your father that she fell in love herself, and, from what I understand, he was completely smitten with her too. Their relationship, however, was doomed from the start because he was already married.”

  Gabriella’s hold on Nicholas’s hand tightened. “But they apparently shared some manner of a relationship, since I’m here.”

  “I’m afraid they did,” Rookwood said. “Rumor had it that your father was determined to divorce his wife, and that determination seems to be behind your mother’s decision to allow him to set her up in style, providing her with a house and all the trappings. About a year or so after they became involved, you came along.”

  “But he never divorced his wife, did he?”

  “He did not. His wife convinced him that a divorce would bring scandal to the family, one that could harm their children’s futures.”

  “He had other children?”

  “I’m sorry to say, but yes.”

  Gabriella’s brow furrowed. “I have half-siblings?”

  “Two half-brothers.”

  A storm began gathering in her eyes as she got to her feet, walking over to the fireplace and staring into the flames for a long moment before she turned. “But how did I end up on the streets, and why have I always thought my surname is Goodhue?”

  “I gave you that name as a way to connect you with your past in case there was ever any reason to prove your true identity. Goodhue, you see, was the last name of your nurse.”

  Gabriella turned back to stare into the fire. “Hmm . . . a nurse.” She nodded. “Nanna Goodhue. I vaguely remember her now. She was a large woman and always smelled of . . . I think it was vanilla. But why haven’t I really remembered her until just now?”