by Jen Turano
“I don’t know who would have dared approach you while you were in the company of your vicious guard dogs,” Daphne muttered.
“An excellent point, although I have already returned them to the man I bought them from. I stopped by his place of business before I traveled here.”
Daphne frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“They attacked you.”
“Because they thought I was a threat.”
“True, but it wasn’t worth placing you in harm’s way to keep them. And since they also tried to take a few bites out of Mr. Andrew Ware, the man who was acting as my coachman last night, I had no choice but to return the dogs.” He patted one of his pockets. “If it eases your mind, I’m carrying my pistol with me, and yes, I do know how to shoot it.”
“Your being armed does lend me a sense of relief, but putting that aside, you just stated that Mr. Ware was acting as your coachman.” Daphne tapped a finger against her chin. “What happened to your normal coachman? Has he suddenly disappeared? We recently handled a case that involved a coachman, and that coachman turned out to have a rather interesting part in one of our most troubling cases to date.”
“Nothing happened to him. He’s still gainfully in my employ, but Andrew has a special talent with horses. He’s far more capable of driving me out of a dangerous situation if the person wanting me dead escalates his attempts and moves from merely trying to run me down to something more concerning.”
Daphne reached into her pocket, withdrawing her notepad and pencil. “You didn’t mention an Andrew Ware last night. He’s one of your employees?”
“He’s my bookkeeper and is responsible for keeping all of my accounts. More importantly, though, he’s one of my oldest friends. His father managed my father’s stables, hence the reason behind Andrew’s ability with horses. When I told him about the second carriage incident, he didn’t hesitate to insist on driving for me.” Herman smiled. “He does have other bookkeeping clients, though, which is why I know driving me around is an imposition for him, not that he’d ever complain. I’m sure Andrew would be only too happy to relinquish his driving to an agent of the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, if your agency has a competent driver who could take over for him.”
Daphne winced. “Miss Elsy Evans is our most frequent driver, but I’m not sure her skills would be comparable to Mr. Ware’s.” She nodded to Elsy, who was in the process of climbing up the rope, pulling herself up a foot and then sliding back down six inches before pulling herself up another foot. “That’s her over there.”
Herman’s eyes widened when Elsy began sliding rapidly down the rope, releasing it when she was about two feet from the ground. She landed in a heap of mud-splattered fabric. He turned back to Daphne. “How long has she been a driver?”
Daphne looked at Cooper. “What’s it been now—five, six months?”
“That seems about right,” Cooper said. “But even with Elsy getting driving lessons from Phillip Villard, she’s probably never going to be anything but an adequate driver. She might be able to outrun a killer, but only because she still frequently loses control of the horses when she gets overly anxious. Being chased by a killer would definitely see her turning a little anxious.”
“I think I’ll continue on with Andrew as my driver,” Herman said firmly.
“Or I could take over, if you’d agree to allow the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency to collaborate with the Pinkerton Agency on your case,” Cooper said.
“You’d be willing to do that?” Herman asked.
“If you’re willing to pay our fees, certainly.”
“I would be more than happy to pay any fee that would see whoever is behind the attempts on my life firmly behind bars.”
Cooper glanced to Daphne. “What do you think? Are you agreeable to the idea of allowing me to work with you on this case?”
“Your assistance would be much appreciated, especially with Gabriella and Nicholas, who everyone knows are our most competent agents, out of town right now.” Daphne nodded to Ann, who’d managed to climb to the top of the rope and was currently sitting on a branch, swinging her legs that were covered by the trousers all the ladies wore underneath their skirts during their exertion lessons. “In that plan I mentioned to you earlier, I was thinking it might be beneficial to have someone with me to help gather information at Mr. Henderson’s house party. Ann told me earlier that the ladies she’s paid to be a companion to are leaving the city to shop in Paris for the next month or so. Evidently those ladies have asked relatives to join them on their respective trips, so Ann’s services aren’t needed. I imagine she’d be able to join us and may even relish the opportunity of getting out of the city after deciding she and Gus are not well suited.”
Cooper’s gaze darted to Ann, then back to Daphne. “She’s no longer enjoying company with Nicholas Quinn’s coachman?”
“Ann has recently decided that Gus, while a charming man, is far too charming to every lady he encounters. In fact, Ann’s of the opinion he’s an incurable flirt, although I have to admit that’s a touch hypocritical because Ann frequently enjoys a spot of flirtation as well.”
“She doesn’t flirt with me,” Cooper said.
Daphne’s lips curved. “I’ve noticed the lack of flirting on Ann’s part and have just recently, as in this morning, formed a few opinions about that circumstance—none of which I’m going to share with you, of course.”
Cooper frowned. “Why not?”
“Because Ann is a friend. It would be a less-than-friendly gesture for me to share my opinions about her with you.”
“But I thought we were friends.”
“Which means I won’t share my opinions about you to Ann either.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have any opinions about me that you’d want to share with Ann” was all Cooper said to that as he shot another glance to Ann. “Your opinions aside, though, Ann has proven herself invaluable when it comes to gathering gossip. If she’s agreeable to joining us, her abilities to snoop around could lend us an advantage. But what position would she be able to step into that wouldn’t arouse suspicion from Mr. Henderson’s guests?”
Herman cleared his throat. “We could always bring her in as a companion for my grandmother. I’ve been telling Grandmother she might enjoy a companion’s company, so she won’t be suspicious if Ann shows up to take that position.”
“That would give her unfettered access to all your guests, especially your female ones,” Daphne said.
“Then I’ll tell my grandmother I’ve found her a companion,” Herman said. “As for you, Miss Beekman, I had a few thoughts last night regarding how you might want to disguise yourself to blend in with my guests.”
“I’ve had a few thoughts as well, although I have to be upfront and tell you that I’ve yet to broach your case with Eunice Holbrooke, even though I don’t believe she’ll balk at taking you on as a client,” Daphne said. “With that said, and before we discuss matters further, I have to ask why you want to continue on with the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency. I behaved in an unprofessional manner when I swooned, and that swoon happened after I assured you I wasn’t prone to swooning as much as I used to be. That must have left you questioning the credentials of the rest of the agency.”
“On the contrary, it did nothing of the sort. It wasn’t as if your fit of the vapors came as much of a surprise, not after you made a point of confessing how your nerves occasionally get the better of you,” Herman said. “Even still, that wouldn’t have deterred me from wanting to hire your agency because you impressed me last night before you swooned.”
“Impressed you how?”
“You didn’t hesitate to question me in a relentless fashion, not backing down when I admittedly turned defensive about the questions you were asking. You’re obviously more than competent when it comes to puzzling out plots, and that’s what I need—someone to puzzle out the plot of who wants to kill me.”
“Then I suppose there’s nothing left to do
now but speak with Eunice and then devise a plan of how we proceed from here,” Daphne said. “You said you’ve had some thoughts about how I should disguise myself?”
“Well, first, in order to keep the peace with Sheldon, we’ll tell everyone you’re my new secretary, hired on because you know how to operate a typewriter. That will spare Sheldon the bother of having to travel all the way across the city to deliver my manuscripts to the establishment that usually types out my work,” Herman said. “He shouldn’t be upset about that because he was recently complaining about how long he had to wait for my last manuscript to be typed. Secondly, and because you’ll be adopting the role of a secretary, I thought you should assume a wallflower disguise.”
Daphne frowned. “I’m not certain you’re understanding how disguises work.”
“Of course I do. I often include them in my plots.”
“Then you’ll understand why I can’t go undercover as a wallflower, considering I’m a wallflower by nature.”
Herman’s brows drew together. “Why would you think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I think that?”
“Because you, Miss Beekman, are no wallflower.”
In the blink of an eye, Daphne’s knees went all sorts of wobbly, and it took a great deal of effort to keep them from buckling and just as much effort to not grin from ear to ear. “Thank you for saying that, Mr. Henderson,” she finally said. “And while not seeing me as a wallflower is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me, I assure you that there are more than a few people who would disagree with your assessment.”
Amusement flickered through his eyes. “And I assure you, Miss Beekman, that anyone who believes you’re a wallflower hasn’t taken the time to see who you truly are. Wallflowers fade into the background. You’re a lady who stands out in a crowd.”
A prickle of something interesting began tickling her skin, followed by the thought that she was going to have to carry her smelling salts with her whenever she was in the vicinity of Mr. Herman Henderson, because . . .
“I think she’s going to faint.”
Blinking herself back to the situation at hand, Daphne found Cooper peering at her with clear concern in his eyes.
“I’m not going to faint. I’m merely feeling a touch warm, probably caused by the vigorous medicine ball activity.”
“That was a good fifteen minutes ago,” Cooper pointed out.
“I’ve, ah, always found the effects of vigorous activities linger with me for quite some time.” She nodded to Herman. “But returning to the disguise business, while, again, it was very kind of you to proclaim you don’t believe I’m a wallflower, I’m afraid that donning that particular disguise won’t provide me with the inspiration needed to effectively ferret out a would-be murderer. I believe I’ll be much more effective going undercover if I choose a disguise that’s completely opposite of my normal personality. I’m much braver the deeper in disguise I am.”
The amusement in Herman’s eyes was immediately replaced with apprehension. “You’re not about to suggest you don a pirate disguise, are you?”
“Certainly not. That would have your guests avoiding me. But dressing last night as a pirate did play a part in my deciding, as I pondered your case last night, what the perfect disguise would be for me to assume at your house party.”
Cooper cleared his throat. “Forgive me for pointing this out, Daphne, but you swooned last night while dressed as a pirate.”
“True, but not until I was set upon by fearsome dogs that longed to devour me. Before they arrived on the scene, my nerves were barely an issue, and that speaks volumes, given that I found myself alone at the agency with a stranger—and a large stranger, at that.”
Cooper tilted his head. “What disguise could you possibly assume that will allow your nerves to not be an issue when you have to interact with Mr. Henderson’s guests?”
“I’ll need to attend the house party as a lady of sophistication since I’m about the least sophisticated lady I know.”
It should have come as no surprise when Herman and Cooper exchanged rather telling looks.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do neither of you believe I can pull off sophisticated?”
Cooper rubbed a finger against his nose. “Sophisticated is not a word that springs to mind when I think about you.”
“I can do sophisticated.”
Cooper shot a look of obvious desperation to Herman, who immediately began nodding. “I’m sure you believe you can assume the role of a sophisticated lady,” Herman began, “but if you were to disguise yourself as a wallflower, you’ll then be able to eavesdrop on all of my guests. Everyone knows that wallflowers are always overlooked.”
“But eavesdropping will only take me so far,” Daphne countered.
Herman frowned. “I fail to understand how adopting a sophisticated air will be more effective than a wallflower. The ladies my grandmother has invited to my house party are demure, retiring sorts, ones who would most assuredly give a sophisticated woman a wide berth.”
“On the contrary,” Daphne argued. “It’ll be a moth-to-the-flame situation. Retiring young ladies are fascinated by sophisticated and worldly ladies. You mark my words, they’ll be flocking around me from the time I arrive at your house.”
“You’re going to disguise yourself as a sophisticated and worldly lady?”
She gave a bob of her head. “It just came to me. A worldly lady would most assuredly attract a lot of attention. And, before either of you turn skeptical about that, you must also remember that I’m, ah, a poet. Everyone knows that most poets are worldly creatures. Why, I’m sure that once all the guests learn about my poetic abilities, they’ll be scrambling to spend time in my company.”
Daphne was not amused when Cooper suddenly spun around and strode away, his shoulders shaking in a very suspicious fashion.
“May I assume you’ve shared some of your poetry with Agent Clifton?” Herman asked, watching his retreating form.
“I might have mentioned the baby’s bottom line to him today, but this really isn’t the moment to discuss poetry. So, returning to my idea—a lady of sophistication is exactly the right identity for me to assume. I’m well-versed in current events and politics, and after I read a few of the latest fashion magazines, I’ll be capable of discussing that riveting topic as well. And because Monsieur Villard has been itching to take me in hand, this will give him the perfect reason to do that. I’ll look exactly how everyone expects a lady of sophistication to appear.”
“I don’t know a single lady on my guest list who’ll want to discuss politics or current events with you.”
“I wasn’t planning on talking to the ladies about those subjects. I’ll reserve political talk for the men.”
“I think you should leave the men to Agent Clifton.”
“Because your gentlemen guests are going to be clamoring to spend time with a man who is going to be posing as your coachman?”
“You might have a point.”
“Quite.”
“But even so, you must realize that secretaries don’t normally engage in conversations with their employer’s guests. It might be hard to explain why my secretary is hobnobbing with everyone in attendance.”
“I didn’t consider that,” Daphne conceded, tapping a finger against her chin before she brightened. “May I assume Sheldon attends events you host?”
“He does, but Sheldon’s my cousin.”
“And he’s also your assistant. I’m going to pose as your secretary, and those positions should be equal in rank. You can use that as the reason behind including me in all the planned activities, saying something to the effect that you didn’t want me to feel slighted, or you didn’t want me to feel inferior to Sheldon, which might lead to animosity between the two of us.”
Herman’s brow furrowed. “I’m not certain that’s a credible reason. It seems somewhat flimsy.”
“It’s not flimsy. It’s brilliant, just as my disguise will be.�
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Herman opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he couldn’t think up an argument to that. He frowned. “You just mentioned Monsieur Villard, as well as a Phillip Villard who is apparently giving one of your agents driving lessons. He’s not the same Monsieur Villard who owns Villard’s Dress Shop, is he?”
“One and the same. He’s a good friend of mine who, besides being one of the most sought-after dressmakers in the city, helps the Bleecker Street Inquiry agents dress appropriately for whatever case we may be involved in.”
“Why would Monsieur Villard involve himself with your agency?”
“We often suggest his dressmaking services to our clients.” She smiled. “He’s also smitten with Miss Elsy Evans, our coachwoman.”
“I’m beginning to think your agency is far more complex than I realized.”
“You have no idea.” She gave a wave to Cooper, who was now standing with Ann, Judith, and Elsy, all three ladies dripping with mud.
“We’re going to repair to the agency to discuss Mr. Henderson’s case with Eunice,” Daphne called.
Cooper nodded to the rope. “You haven’t climbed this yet.”
She bit back a grin. “True, but we shouldn’t keep Mr. Henderson waiting while I complete my exercise regimen for the day.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Herman said.
Daphne wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw Herman’s lips twitch just the slightest bit. “That was not well done of you,” she muttered before she squared her shoulders and marched her way toward Cooper, eyeing the rope. “I really see no reason for me to have to complete this particular task right now, Cooper. It’s not as if I’m ever going to have to scale a tree.”
“You were forced to escape from a costume ball out a second-story window,” Cooper pointed out. “There’s a chance you may need to do that again at some point.”
“That’s highly unlikely.”
A quirk of a brow was Cooper’s only response to that.
Realizing there was little chance Cooper was going to let her avoid the rope, Daphne reached out and grasped it in her hand. Giving it a tug to make certain it was still attached to the branch, she positioned herself in front of the tree trunk and then began pulling herself up. Her arms began shaking before she’d made it more than four feet up, and then a bee began buzzing right by her ear.