To Steal a Heart

by Jen Turano

  “Forgive me, Gabriella. I’m sure you’re finding it incredibly unseemly that Bernice and I have delved into a spat in front of company.”

  “Amidst all the other unseemly matters we’ve discussed, your bickering hasn’t exactly taken me aback,” she said as she reached into her pocket and withdrew her pocket watch. “The sight of this, though, might take you aback.”

  Chauncey’s eyes widened. “Is that my pocket watch?”

  “It is. I stole it from you years ago, although I had no idea who you were or that Rookwood had me target you because he knew you always kept this on your person. Rookwood, you see, wanted me to have something of my mother’s.” She held it out to him. “I’d like to return it to you, because, from what Rookwood said, you were very fond of this watch.”

  For a second, Chauncey didn’t move, but then he reached out and took the watch from Gabriella, running his thumb over the well-worn casing. “I always considered this one of my most prized possessions because it was the only thing of Josephine’s I had left.”

  Gabriella stiffened. “It wasn’t the only thing of my mother’s you had. If you’ve forgotten, she left you me.”

  Chauncey’s head shot up, but before he could respond to that, Gabriella turned and headed for the door.

  Bernice suddenly cleared her throat. “Should we expect you to return with a demand for money?”

  Gabriella stopped walking. “The last thing I want from you is money, although . . .” She glanced to Chauncey. “You said my mother had a man of affairs, and Rookwood mentioned that as well. If you could provide me with his name, I’ll be able to discover if my mother left anything for me.”

  “I can set up an account for you if you discover your mother’s account is no longer active,” Chauncey said. “You are my daughter, after all.”

  “I don’t consider myself your daughter,” Gabriella said quietly. “You, I’m sorry to say, have not behaved as a father should. I also have no desire to be in your debt. With that settled, the name of my mother’s solicitor, if you please.”

  Chauncey considered Gabriella for a long moment before he inclined his head. “His name is Mr. William Burnham, and he still has an office on Broadway. Josephine always had a substantial amount of funds in her account, because, if no one has told you, she commanded a very high fee for each of her performances. I also provided her with funds for herself and you. Mr. Burnham was responsible for investing Josephine’s money, and there’s a chance he continued doing that, which may mean your inheritance from your mother, if it’s still intact, might be significant. If it’s not, you will need to let me know because I will set up an account for you.”

  “I don’t need your money.”

  Chauncey arched a brow at Nicholas. “Is that because she’s to you what Josephine was to me?”

  Nicholas abandoned his position by the door and strode over to Chauncey. Before that man could get another question out of his mouth, Nicholas planted a fist into Chauncey’s stomach, leaving the man doubled over and wheezing. Sending a curt nod to Bernice, Nicholas headed for the door, taking hold of Gabriella’s hand and walking with her out of a house he doubted she would ever step foot in again.

  Forcing aside the temper that had flowed freely the moment Chauncey had the audacity to suggest he was involved in an improper relationship with Gabriella, he caught sight of Agent Clifton striding up the street, hatless and looking disgruntled.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked once Agent Clifton drew closer.

  Agent Clifton shook his head. “A man dashed out of the house, taking me by surprise. Unfortunately, after I gave chase, he gave me the slip.”

  “That was Townsend, the de Peyster butler,” Nicholas said as Gus helped Gabriella into the carriage. “Mrs. de Peyster is still inside, and I imagine you’ll find it interesting to speak with her. She did hire someone to frame Gabriella and used Townsend to make contact with that someone.”

  Agent Clifton nodded. “I imagine the butler will return eventually, but I believe I will go have a chat with Mrs. de Peyster.” He caught Nicholas’s eye. “We’ll meet up later?”

  “I’m taking Gabriella back to the boardinghouse, so meet up with me there.”

  As Agent Clifton headed for the de Peyster house, Nicholas told Gus to head back to Bleecker Street, concern settling over him when he climbed into the carriage and took a seat beside Gabriella, noticing as he did so that she had a single tear running down her cheek.

  Gabriella never cried, and that she was doing so now had him gathering her into his arms, hoping that, if nothing else, their meeting with the deplorable de Peysters might finally allow Gabriella to put her past firmly behind her and move forward into a brighter future.

  A future he was going to make certain, no matter the cost, included him.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Seven

  Gabriella savored the feeling of safety she felt in Nicholas’s arms as tears fell from her eyes, tears she wept over the mother she didn’t remember and tears for the child she knew her mother never wanted to leave all alone in the world.

  With every tear shed, she felt pieces of the barrier she’d so carefully built around her heart break away, until she was left with a heart that ached from all the losses she’d suffered and no more tears to cry. Drawing in a ragged breath, she pulled away from Nicholas, scrubbing a hand over her cheeks.

  “What a horrible, self-centered father I have.”

  Nicholas took his thumb and brushed away a tear she’d missed. “I can’t argue with you about that, but I do believe Chauncey cared for your mother, at least to the best of his abilities.”

  “He took advantage of her, Nicholas. She was a young woman who’d recently lost her parents and found herself alone. She had little money when she arrived in New York, and she must have thought that after meeting Chauncey and being immediately drawn to him that he was going to take care of her—or rather, marry her. It sounds like when she learned he was married, she left him, but then he convinced her to return by telling her he was going to divorce his wife. He obviously changed his mind about that, although he certainly didn’t change his mind about continuing to enjoy relations with her.”

  “It was not honorable behavior on his part.”

  A frisson of temper flowed through her. “No, it wasn’t, but he doesn’t seem to have suffered any repercussions because of his behavior. Men never do. It’s always the women who are labeled light-skirts or worse. The men then try to convince these women they’re going to marry them, quite like Mr. Thomas Goelet did with Miss Langtry, saying he had honorable intentions when he had nothing of the sort.”

  “But because of you and Eunice, Miss Langtry was spared the same fate as your mother.”

  Gabriella sighed. “I suppose there is that, but why can’t more men be like you? You’d never behave in such a reprehensible fashion.”

  “Clearly there are some in society who’d disagree with that, considering how many were quick to conclude I was enjoying an inappropriate relationship with you.” He winced. “I’d also been about to marry a society lady simply to cement my standing in society and allow Professor Cameron to realize his dream of turning me into the consummate gentleman. Now that I’ve had time to think about the matter, it wasn’t exactly an upstanding decision to make.”

  “You were a gentleman before Professor Cameron took you in.”

  “You do realize that I’m trying to make the point that I don’t always behave as I should, don’t you?”

  “You rarely stray from acting the true gentleman, Nicholas; it’s not in your nature. But returning to the deplorable de Peysters, what do you think would have happened to me if Bernice hadn’t interfered in my life all those years ago?”

  “I imagine Chauncey would have provided for you, at the very least hiring on enough staff to look after you until you reached your majority.”

  “But then what? No man of quality would have wanted to marry me, and I doubt any other man would have wanted to marry me either, not
with how I’m illegitimate. There’s every reason to believe I would have ended up in a less-than-reputable relationship as well.”

  “You would have never ended up in a less-than-reputable relationship.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’ve always been sure of who you are and what you want. It would have been easy for you to snare some wealthy man to take care of you after you left the orphanage, especially given how beautiful you are, but that thought never crossed your mind, did it?”

  “After seeing what happened to so many women on the Lower East Side, no.”

  “And because it’s not a life you would ever want.” Nicholas smiled. “You were self-assured even as a child, and you’ve always been strong-willed.”

  “My mother sounded strong-willed. It couldn’t have been easy for her to move to New York and become an actress on her own, but that’s what she did. Given that, I would have thought she’d balk at becoming some man’s mistress.”

  “As you just said, it could not have been easy for your mother to set herself up in New York. I also have to imagine she was sheltered growing up before she landed in New York, and that right there might have played into her decision to become involved with your father. He would have represented a sense of security, and women of that time—and even women today—are raised to accept that men know what’s best for them. That sense of security is probably why Josephine continued in a relationship with Chauncey even after he didn’t divorce his wife.”

  Gabriella frowned. “Or she really loved him—although how she could have loved a man like that is beyond me. But I suppose it’s not my place to judge her decisions since there’s no way for me to question her about the matter.” She blew out a breath. “It doesn’t seem as if Chauncey and Bernice share much love between them. I wonder what will happen now that Bernice’s duplicity is out in the open.”

  “I have no idea, but I don’t believe Bernice is going to come out of this unscathed. She left you to the mercy of Rookwood, a man she believed would dispose of you permanently. Actions like that have a way of coming back on a person—God’s way, I believe, of making a person realize the wrongs they’ve committed against other people.”

  Gabriella settled into the seat, leaning against Nicholas. “Do you believe that God might have not abandoned me after all? That He sent me to Rookwood in order to keep me safe, like Rookwood believes?”

  “That’s a distinct possibility.”

  She thought about that for a moment. “You may be right. Speaking of Rookwood, do you ever find yourself wondering about your parents or how you came to live with him?”

  “I don’t have any memories except living with Rookwood,” Nicholas said. “I’ve always assumed that he found me, or someone gave me to him, when I was a baby.”

  “Do you have any desire to question him about the circumstances surrounding your birth?”

  “After everything we’ve discovered about your past, I’m perfectly content to accept that I was orphaned as a baby and leave it at that.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. What I learned was awful.”

  “Except for the part about your mother’s solicitor. From what Rookwood and Chauncey said, you may have a rather tidy bank account waiting for you to claim.”

  “I’m not holding my breath. It’s more than likely that Mr. Burnham helped himself to my mother’s account at some point over the past twenty years.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Nicholas leaned forward and opened the small window that was positioned directly underneath the driver’s seat. “Gus, do you think you’d be able to find a solicitor located on Broadway?”

  “What’s the name?” Gus called back.

  “Mr. William Burnham.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “You want to go there now?”

  Nicholas arched a brow at Gabriella. “It’s up to you.”

  “We might as well. I don’t think I can get more disappointed today.”

  “Let’s see if we can find him now, Gus.”

  “Will do.”

  It didn’t take long to get to Broadway, and finding Mr. Burnham didn’t take long either, not after Gus parked the carriage and asked a few people on the sidewalk. He stuck his head through the carriage door. “Mr. Burnham’s office is just a block away. Do you want me to drive us there, or do you want to walk?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some fresh air,” Gabriella admitted.

  “Then walking it is,” Nicholas said, stepping from the carriage before helping Gabriella to the sidewalk. As Gus led the way, Nicholas kept hold of her arm, nodding to a few ladies they passed, all of whom sent him curious looks before scowling at Gabriella.

  “You realize that you’re definitely ruining your chances of being the most eligible gentleman in society by being seen with me, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Do I look concerned about that?”

  “Well, no, but I thought I’d point it out to you just in case you hadn’t noticed the scandalized looks.”

  “Be difficult not to notice those,” Nicholas said as Gus stopped walking and pointed to a sign that had Mr. Burnham’s name on it.

  “Looks like this is the place,” Gus said. “I’ll bring the carriage around and wait for the two of you out here.” He sent Gabriella an encouraging smile and walked away.

  Nicholas opened the door to Mr. Burnham’s office and ushered Gabriella into a cluttered reception area, coming to a stop in front of an older woman sitting behind a desk.

  “We’re here to see Mr. Burnham,” Gabriella told the woman. “I’m Gabriella Goodhue, or perhaps it would be better to tell him that Miss Gabriella Larrimore is here to speak with him.”

  The woman gave a single nod before she gestured to a few straight-backed chairs and hurried away, hopefully to tell Mr. Burnham she was there. Given the day Gabriella was experiencing, though, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the woman was off to warn Mr. Burnham to make a speedy escape, if he’d helped himself to Josephine’s money.

  “On my word, but this is a day I was beginning to fear I’d never see.”

  Looking up, Gabriella found a man with silver hair advancing toward her. “I’d know you anywhere because you definitely resemble your mother, although you’ve always had your father’s eyes. I’m Mr. Burnham, your late mother’s solicitor.”

  Gabriella’s lips curved. “I must admit I’m relieved to learn you know the dynamics involving my mother and father. I wasn’t certain if I’d need to go into detail with you.” She got to her feet as Nicholas did the same.

  “No need for any explanations about your parents, Miss Larrimore,” Mr. Burnham said. “Your mother was always very forthright, so I know her story, even the more uncomfortable parts of it.” He shook his head. “It was such a shame when she died, and I’ve certainly missed her over the years. Josephine always brightened my days when she’d come to discuss matters of finance with me, especially because she used to bring you with her. You, my dear, were a delightful bundle of mischievousness.” He turned and extended a hand to Nicholas. “Don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of an introduction.”

  “I’m Mr. Nicholas Quinn.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Quinn,” Mr. Burnham said before he gestured them into his private office. After Gabriella and Nicholas settled into chairs, Mr. Burnham moved to take a seat behind his desk.

  “I assume you’re here because you’re finally going to claim the account I’ve held in your name since your mother died,” Mr. Burnham began.

  “I didn’t know until very recently that my mother had an account.”

  “I’m not surprised. I was told by your father that you’d been taken in by your great-grandmother, a woman who apparently loathed Mr. de Peyster. I’ve assumed over the years that she convinced you to never return to New York, while also assuming that she must have been a woman of some means. If she hadn’t been, I would have thought she’d seek me out about Josephine’s money, if only to be able to take proper care
of you.”

  Knowing there was little point in explaining her unfortunate past, Gabriella merely inclined her head, which Mr. Burnham apparently took as agreement to his assumptions.

  “How lovely that you were able to enjoy an advantageous childhood,” Mr. Burnham exclaimed. “I’m sure you’re going to find it lovely as well that I can now disclose to you that the money your mother left in her account—money I continued to invest over the years—is quite substantial. In fact, you’re now an incredibly wealthy woman. Well, you will be just as soon as I get you to sign a few papers to make it all official.”

  Gabriella blinked. “Forgive me, but did you just say I’ve been left substantial wealth?”

  Mr. Burnham beamed. “Indeed I did.” He caught her eye. “Your mother was a very successful actress, but more importantly, she had a keen sense for investing the money she earned on the stage.”

  If she’d not been sitting down, she would have found herself on the floor, having the odd notion that for the first time in her life, she actually felt a need for the smelling salts Daphne always kept on her person.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” Mr. Burnham asked, recalling Gabriella to the conversation at hand.

  “I’m sure I do, but at the moment, not a single one springs to mind.”

  “Then I’ll just go get those papers for you to sign.”

  Mr. Burnham hurried out of the office, returning a short time later with a file in his hand. After she signed where he indicated, he checked the papers over and smiled. “That’s all I need. I hope you’ll consider keeping me on as your solicitor, Miss Larrimore. I have a feeling, given how much you remind me of your mother, that you and I would work well together.”

  Finding it odd to be addressed as Miss Larrimore, Gabriella assured Mr. Burnham that she’d like nothing more than to continue with him acting on her behalf.

  “Wonderful. And before I forget, we should make arrangements to have your mother’s possessions I’ve kept in storage handed over to you. I imagine you’ll enjoy the spectacular painting a renowned artist made of your mother, especially since you’re in it as well.”