by Jen Turano
Gabriella looked up and found Charlie being marched into the room, Daphne holding fast to his arm. That he looked disgusted was not in question.
Henrietta rushed over to him, sending Daphne a glare, which didn’t seem to ruffle Daphne in the least because she didn’t let go of Charlie’s arm.
“What did you hear?” Henrietta demanded.
Charlie sent Daphne a nod. “Nothing good, because she got the better of us. Here I’ve been sneakin’ into her attic all day to stash them veils while she’s been typin’ away. I also tried to find where she stashed them diamonds as I was sneakin’, and”—he let out a grunt—“it turns out she done turned them over to a Pinkerton man early this mornin’ when we was being forced to scrub up our hands and face before Alma would give us breakfast.”
Daphne smiled. “I’m sure this is going to annoy you further, but Agent Clifton and I coordinated the handoff of the diamonds to coincide with your breakfast, getting Alma to insist on the two of you washing up before she fed you.”
Gabriella watched as Henrietta and Charlie exchanged looks of disbelief, as if they couldn’t believe a houseful of women had gotten the best of them. She resisted a grin. “Why am I getting the curious feeling that the two of you have only been stealing Eunice’s veils as a distraction from what you were really up to—that being trying to retrieve the Linwood jewels?”
“Because that’s what we was up to,” Henrietta admitted. “We knew that with you being occupied with gettin’ that dress done up, Ivan was our biggest threat.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “We also knew if we started takin’ Eunice’s belongings, he’d throw himself into tryin’ to find ’em, leaving us free to get on with gettin’ back them jewels.”
“It was all for nothin’,” Charlie complained, trying to tug his arm from Daphne’s grip, to no avail. “Now we’re really gonna be in for it from the boss.”
“You’re not going to be in for it from the boss,” Nicholas said, striding into the room, looking quite dashing in a dove-gray suit, his hair slightly rumpled, probably because the weather had turned blustery.
“He don’t take kindly to failure,” Charlie argued. “We’ll be beaten for sure once we get home.”
“You won’t be returning to whatever hovel you call home,” Nicholas said firmly, moving to stand beside Charlie.
“We ain’t got nowhere else to go.”
Eunice stepped forward. “You’ll be staying here until we can make permanent arrangements for you, and no, those plans won’t include sending you off to an orphanage. We’ll find you proper families, you have my word.”
Charlie raised his chin defiantly. “No one will want to take the two of us in, least not together, and I ain’t leavin’ Henry.”
“I’ll take you in. Both of you,” Nicholas said quietly, his words leaving Charlie looking dumbstruck and Henrietta looking ever-so-slightly hopeful.
“You mean that?” Henrietta whispered.
“I do, but further discussion of the matter will need to wait because Gabriella and I have an appointment we can’t miss.” Nicholas nodded to Eunice. “Agent Clifton stopped by my house after he returned the Linwood jewels. He wanted me to tell you that Jennette and Duncan are delighted with the new safe you sent them this morning as a wedding present, especially after I told them that the Victor Floor Safe is almost impossible to break into. They’re hopeful they’ll be able to retain possession of the jewels for the foreseeable future. They’ve also agreed to keep it quiet about the jewels being returned, because Agent Clifton believes that may assist with finally cracking the Knickerbocker Bandit case.”
“Why does he believe that?” Daphne asked, reaching into her pocket with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Charlie’s arm and pulling out her notepad.
“I’m afraid he didn’t disclose any details, but you’ll be able to question him yourself because he’s due to arrive here any minute.” Nicholas turned back to Eunice. “I asked him to help Ivan guard the house while Gabriella and I are away. There’s still a chance that the man Charlie and Henrietta report to might come sniffing around. I thought an extra man could be useful, and I knew since Phillip’s been sewing all night, that he might be exhausted.”
“I would appreciate some sleep, no doubt about that,” Phillip admitted.
“And I appreciate the addition of a Pinkerton man,” Eunice said. “Although, do know that all the ladies here are still armed and on high alert.”
Nicholas winced. “A troubling thought, since I believe I overheard Elsy and Ann saying they don’t really know how to shoot a gun.”
At the mention of Elsy, Phillip perked up. “Perhaps I’ll stay around a little longer and give the ladies a few pointers about pistols.” Phillip turned and offered Eunice his arm. “Care to join me in a pistol lesson?”
She took his arm. “I’d be delighted, although I don’t actually need a lesson because I’m fairly good with a weapon. But I’d be happy to offer extra assistance to the ladies who are struggling.”
“I wouldn’t mind learning the basics of how to operate a pistol,” Daphne said, looking down at Charlie. “You and Henrietta are going to have to come with us because I don’t trust you to stay out of my attic.”
“There didn’t look like there was anything to steal up there except that typewriter,” Charlie said.
“Do not even think about setting your eye on my typewriter,” Daphne said firmly. “I assure you, should it go missing, you’ll have more to worry about than that boss of yours that neither of you will name.”
“Unless they’ve decided to change their minds about giving us a name?” Nicholas asked, earning a headshake from both children before Henrietta scampered from the room. Charlie tugged Daphne after her, leaving Gabriella and Nicholas behind.
“They don’t trust that I’m going to take them in,” Nicholas said, moving to stand closer to Gabriella and taking hold of her hand.
The touch of his hand sent a delightful tingle up her arm and heat to her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Are you sure about it? That’s a big commitment. Perhaps Henrietta should stay here with me.”
“They won’t be separated,” Nicholas said, raising her hand to his lips. “We wouldn’t have agreed to that either, if we’d been given the chance.” He smiled. “We’ve not had time to discuss much besides Rookwood and your father of late, but I’ve been hoping to broach the matter of our friendship with you. You’ve been determined to help me select a wife, but I can’t help wondering, with how our friendship seems to have changed, if . . .”
Before Nicholas could finish what he’d been wondering, a wondering that had caused Gabriella’s pulse to rachet up the slightest bit, Precious slunk into the room, her tail drooping as she made her way to a small settee. She crawled underneath it, presented them with her backside, and released a whimper.
Gabriella’s pulse slowed as she arched a brow. “Should I assume you didn’t bring Winston with you?”
“He refused to come out from underneath my desk when I told him I was coming here.” Nicholas smiled. “I think he only has enough energy to visit with Precious every other day.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I told Precious he was coming with you. She’s been sitting by the front door waiting for him for an hour.”
“We’ll pick him up on our way back here after our meeting with Chauncey, as well as continue the conversation that was just interrupted. But speaking of that meeting . . .” He withdrew his pocket watch. “Chauncey’s note said he would expect me at one, which means we need to get on our way.”
Gabriella drew in a deep breath, took his arm, then moved with him to the door, her knees feeling all sorts of wobbly as she realized she was about to meet her father, a man who would surely be surprised to discover that the meeting he’d agreed to with Nicholas was going to include her as well.
“I was convinced Daphne and Eunice were going to insist on accompanying us after Daphne noted you were looking pale.”
Pulling her attention from the people she’d
been watching through the carriage window, Gabriella settled it on Nicholas, who was sitting beside her, holding her hand, his closeness lending her much-needed support as they trundled far too rapidly toward her father’s house.
“They did seem to be hovering, which was rather sweet, as well as odd, since no one’s ever hovered on my behalf before.”
“They were hovering because they’re your family.”
“I suppose they are, at that.”
Exchanging a smile with him, Gabriella kept hold of Nicholas’s hand as a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by occasional gusts of wind that blew around the carriage, suggesting a storm was brewing.
She was fairly certain she was in for a storm of a different sort, one she would have liked to avoid but knew she couldn’t, not with all the questions she still had about her past.
Nicholas gave her hand a squeeze as the carriage pulled to a stop. “We’re here.”
Gus was soon opening the door and then assisting her from the carriage, giving her an unexpected pat on the back as Nicholas stepped out of the carriage and joined her.
She tipped her head back and set her gaze on the five stories of limestone rising up in front of her, shifting her attention to the width of the house a second later. She drew in a shaky breath when she realized it took up an entire block. “It’s very intimidating.”
“Chauncey de Peyster is not a gentleman who believes in the understated,” Nicholas said, taking hold of her arm.
“Clearly” was all she was capable of getting past a throat that had turned remarkably dry. Thankful to have Nicholas beside her, she soon found herself standing in front of an ornate door. She drew in a deep breath right as the door opened, revealing a butler dressed in dark livery. The man immediately sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes filled with disbelief when he caught sight of her.
“I’m Mr. Nicholas Quinn,” Nicholas began with an inclination of his head. “I have an appointment with Mr. de Peyster.”
“I’m aware of that appointment, Mr. Quinn, but I wasn’t aware you were bringing someone with you. May I dare hope that Mr. de Peyster knows about . . .” He nodded to Gabriella.
“I should hope he knows about her” was all Nicholas said to that.
“Quite right,” the butler said briskly before he gestured them into the house. “If you’ll be so kind as to wait in the receiving room, I’ll inform Mr. de Peyster that you’ve arrived.”
“I think it best if you take us directly to Mr. de Peyster,” Nicholas countered. “He’s expecting me, after all, so there’s no need for us to linger in the receiving room.”
For a second, Gabriella thought the butler was going to balk, but then he squared his shoulders and turned. “Follow me.”
Keeping a firm grip on Nicholas’s arm, Gabriella walked behind the butler through a hallway filled with priceless paintings, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she moved deeper into what could only be described as an ostentatious house.
Moving past a receiving room that was decorated in gold and green, she glimpsed walls papered in silk before walking past the dining room, catching sight of a gleaming table set with crystal glasses and fine china plates. They then passed a parlor decorated in blue, the scent of fresh flowers perfuming the air, before the butler led them into a library.
To say it was impressive was an understatement, but Gabriella didn’t bother to do more than give the room a cursory glance because sitting in a chair beside a narrow floor-to-ceiling window was a man wearing spectacles and reading a book.
A man who might very well be her father.
Gabriella found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move as she gazed at the man she’d been unaware existed, at least as a flesh-and-blood person, until just last night.
The butler cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, Mr. de Peyster, but Mr. Nicholas Quinn is here. He’s brought a . . . guest.”
Chauncey de Peyster set aside his book, stood up, then removed his spectacles, revealing blue eyes that were the same shade Gabriella saw whenever she looked in a mirror. He laid the spectacles on top of the book and lifted his head, smiling at Nicholas. That smile disappeared, though, the second his gaze drifted from Nicholas and settled on her. He took a hesitant step forward, stopped, and cocked his head to the side. “On my word. Is that you, Gabriella?”
Of any reaction she’d been expecting, his casual acceptance of finding her standing in his library hadn’t entered her mind.
She managed a nod, which had Chauncy taking a step toward her. “I must say you do have the look of your mother about you.” He took another step forward. “I’ve often found myself wondering if Josephine’s grandmother, your great-grandmother, would ever see fit to let you come back to see me. That you’ve waited twenty-odd years to visit suggests your great-grandmother poisoned you against me.”
Gabriella frowned. “You’ve been waiting all these years for me to seek you out?”
Chauncey returned the frown. “You couldn’t have very well expected me to find you, could you? Not when I didn’t have the foggiest notion where Josephine’s grandmother lived.”
Nicholas gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It would have certainly been difficult for you to locate Gabriella’s great-grandmother, considering Gabriella doesn’t have one.”
Chauncey blinked. “She died?”
“Years ago, before Gabriella was born.”
“Nonsense,” Chauncey argued with a wave of his hand. “Gabriella’s been living with her great-grandmother ever since Josephine died.”
Gabriella lifted her chin. “I have not.”
Chauncey’s forehead furrowed. “Forgive me, but clearly I’m missing something. After I received word of your mother’s death and returned to New York, Mrs. Goodhue, your nurse, paid me a visit. She told me that your great-grandmother showed up at Josephine’s house the day after your mother died. From what I recall, your nurse then told me that even though Josephine’s grandmother had been very disapproving of the relationship her granddaughter and I shared, she decided it was her Christian duty to take you in and raise you far away from me—the man she evidently thought was a reprobate.”
Gabriella’s chin lifted another notch. “If my great-grandmother had come to fetch me, which, again, she didn’t, I don’t believe she could have been blamed for thinking you’re a reprobate, considering you were involved in a relationship with my mother while you were married to someone else.”
“I can’t deny that I was married while involved with Josephine, and yes, I understand that it hardly shows me in a good light. But what you need to understand is this—I was completely smitten with Josephine from the moment I was introduced to her. She, to my delight, soon became smitten with me as well.”
“But again, you were married,” Gabriella argued. “Did it ever occur to you that it wasn’t wise for you to seek out an introduction to her?”
“I was helpless against Josephine’s charms.”
“You should have tried harder,” Gabriella countered. “I am curious, though, as to whether or not you let her know you were married when you sought out this introduction.”
Chauncey swiped a hand over his face. “That was a long time ago.”
“I’m going to take that as an attempt to sidestep the question, although by so doing, you’ve answered my question. You didn’t tell my mother you were married, did you?”
“I . . . may not have been as forthcoming as I should have been with Josephine at first, something that sent her into a temper after she discovered I had a wife. She then refused to have anything more to do with me until I told her I was intending to seek a divorce from Bernice.”
“A divorce that never happened.”
“Well, no. Bernice convinced me, after I told her I intended to seek a divorce, that I was being rash. A divorce, I came to conclude, would have ruined the future prospects of our children. If I’d not had children at that time, it would have been a different story, but someone of my social position does
have to be mindful of how actions can affect a family. I realized I could not jeopardize the future of my heirs.”
“Were you unconcerned about my future?” Gabriella shot back.
Chauncey tugged on his tie. “Josephine didn’t know she was expecting you when I made the final decision to not move forward with a divorce. She didn’t discover that unfortunate circumstance until two months later.”
Temper was swift. “I was an unfortunate circumstance?”
“That was a poor choice of words.”
“Too right they were, but I suspect they were honest.”
Chauncey gave another tug of his tie. “Perhaps it would be prudent for us to have some tea. You apparently possess the same temperament as your mother, and she always found tea to be rather soothing.”
“I wouldn’t know. My memories of her were cast aside because of the unfortunate circumstance I found myself in after she died.”
Chauncey didn’t bother to respond to that as he gave the bell pull a yank and then gestured to a grouping of exquisitely upholstered chairs. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable while we wait for tea?”
“I’m not certain sitting down is going to make this more comfortable, but by all means, let us give it a try,” Gabriella said, then marched her way to the chair nearest the fireplace and took a seat, Nicholas sitting down in the chair directly beside her. Chauncey resumed his seat by the window and simply stared at her, leaving her with the distinct urge to fidget—or punch the man. She wasn’t certain which.
CHAPTER
Twenty-Six
Regrettably, the reunion between Gabriella and Chauncey was going worse than Nicholas had expected, and that was saying something, considering his expectations had been set relatively low.
“I find myself curious, Mr. Quinn,” Chauncey began, drawing Nicholas’s attention, “how you’re acquainted with my daughter.”
“We’ve been friends for years,” Nicholas said. “But our relationship has nothing to do with why we’re here. Gabriella is in need of answers, and I believe one of the first matters you should address is about Gabriella’s great-grandmother.”