by Jen Turano
“We left the city what feels like days ago. I’d like to see you keep a bustle in place after enjoying a long and, need I add, bumpy carriage ride. Why you decided to dress me in a traveling gown that requires the largest bustle anyone has ever been unfortunate enough to wear is beyond me. I was forced to perch on the very edge of my seat for the entire ride.”
“Large bustles are what any stylish lady is wearing this year. Because you’re determined to pass yourself off as sophisticated, I suggest you stop complaining and readjust your attitude.”
“It’s hard to readjust an attitude when you’re wearing what amounts to half a barrel on your backside. If you ask me, ladies of sophistication might want to consider balking at the ridiculous garments that male designers are always forcing them to wear. There’s nothing sophisticated about being bottom heavy, which begs the question why ladies haven’t risen up in revolt against such fashions years ago.”
Phillip’s brows drew together. “I’ve never heard the words fashion and revolt in the same sentence before. Ladies know that, on occasion, one must forgo comfort in order to present the world with a certain appearance.”
“Wonderful advice coming from a gentleman,” Daphne retorted. “But while forgoing comfort to embrace a certain style has certainly been the accepted rule for centuries, if we women would abandon fashions that leave us barely able to breathe, perhaps we could then begin to move forward in a truly progressive way, one where our clothing wouldn’t limit what we can actually accomplish. We then wouldn’t be subjected to wearing bustles or that most dreadful of inventions, the corset—an invention I’ve recently been considering abandoning.”
“I hope you’ve set aside your determination to abandon your unmentionables, because I don’t think my grandmother will look kindly on that. I would also caution you to avoid bringing up unmentionables in any conversations you may share with her. Unfortunately, she’s already suspicious of you, and that’s without the two of you exchanging so much as a single word.”
Turning, Daphne found Herman striding down the steps to join her, looking dapper in a tailored blue suit and wearing a pocket square that Phillip was eyeing in approval. Elsy suddenly took hold of Phillip’s arm and began pulling him toward the back of the carriage, muttering a reminder to Phillip that a coachman really shouldn’t be giving Herman such a marked perusal.
Returning her attention to Herman, Daphne felt a most unexpected flutter set up residence in her stomach, until the words he’d recently spoken settled in.
“Do not say that your grandmother has already figured out that you’ve hired inquiry agents, because that will hardly bode well for the investigation that needs to be done at your house party.”
“The suspicions my grandmother has formed have nothing to do with the investigation, but everything to do with you.”
“But I only just arrived.”
“And what an arrival it was,” he said, nodding to the carriage. “I’m afraid your choice of vehicle only aided my grandmother’s conviction regarding what type of lady you are.” He winced. “After taking one look at you, she believes that you’re an adventuress who is certain to dash the hopes of every young lady in attendance who is interested in me.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “I’ve never been mistaken for an adventuress before and must admit I find that idea delightful.”
“Delight is not a reaction I expected from my disclosure, but you must have a care with how you deal with my grandmother from this point forward. She, even with her questionable nerves, is not a lady to trifle with. Quite honestly, after she heard you address me by my given name, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s even now devising a plan to see you quickly removed from my estate.”
“Surely not.”
Herman turned and waved to an older woman standing at the top of the steps. That woman, apparently Mildred Henderson, gave Herman a half-hearted wave in return before she turned on her heel, disappearing into the house. “Was there a reason you decided to adopt an air of informality between us?”
“Madame Sophia Calve suggested I adopt an informal air with everyone.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain that further.”
“She’s an opera singer.”
Herman blinked. “You’re talking about the Madame Calve?”
“One and the same.” Daphne adjusted the brim of her hat. “I became acquainted with her a mere day and a half ago after she paid a visit to the agency, not that I can expand on that because it’s a confidential matter. However, while she was waiting to speak to Eunice, she happened to see Phillip.”
Daphne gave a wave toward Phillip, who was now grunting as he tried to wrestle one of her large trunks from the top of the carriage, Elsy offering suggestions to him, which Phillip ignored.
“Madame Calve adores Phillip, as well as his designs, and insisted on accompanying him to the boardinghouse, where I was waiting for Phillip to alter my new worldly and sophisticated wardrobe.” She smiled. “I knew within seconds of meeting Madame Calve that she was exactly the type of lady I wanted to portray myself as during your house party. Fortunately for me, she didn’t hesitate to give me pointers so that I would be successful pulling off the daunting feat of adopting an attitude like hers.”
“I have no idea how it came to be that Madame Calve convinced you to abandon formality between us,” Herman said. “Secretaries are expected to address their employers as Mr. So-and-So. They’re certainly not expected to call out to their employer in a manner that suggests there’s more than a working relationship between them—something my grandmother, unfortunately, might believe.”
Daphne’s eyes widened. “Why would she believe that?”
“You asked me to be a darling and help you with your typewriter.”
“Hmm . . . perhaps that was a bit much, but I was encouraged by Madame Calve to use endearments such as darling, sugar plum, dearest, and . . . well, I’ll have to check my list for the other suggestions she gave me. I now find myself wondering if the use of darling was only supposed to be brought out under specific circumstances.”
“I think you may want to abandon your use of endearments, especially since my grandmother will not react well to your calling me sugar plum. That would certainly leave her convinced you managed to entice me into hiring you by using your feminine allure, something I’m relatively sure she’s already convinced you’ve done.”
“She thinks I have feminine allure?”
“Why do I get the distinct impression, given the way your eyes have suddenly begun to sparkle, that you find that to be another delightful notion?”
“You’d find it delightful as well if no one had ever suggested you possess any allure. I may have to pen a letter to my mother straightaway and inform her of this unlikely happenstance. She’ll find your grandmother’s opinion about me very encouraging.”
“Oh, this is going to be a disaster,” Herman muttered.
“Now, don’t be like that, sugar plum.” Daphne reached into the carriage and withdrew her large bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. “It’s not going to be a disaster because what I observed the most about Madame Calve is that her appeal rests directly with her charm.”
“My grandmother is hardly going to be charmed if you take to calling me sugar plum,” Herman reiterated.
“I needed to see if it would roll off my tongue with ease, and I do believe it did, although poppet comes easier, as does precious. However, I can’t very well call you precious because of Precious the poodle. If I start seeing that Precious in my mind, I may very well start laughing, which would completely ruin the façade.”
“Do not, under any circumstances, address Herman as poppet.”
Herman gave a bit of a start before he leaned forward and peered into the dark confines of the carriage. “I didn’t see you there, Mrs. Holbrooke, but allow me to say that it’s quite impressive how you’re able to blend into the shadows so well, even though you do take a few years off a person’s life when yo
u finally decide to reveal yourself.”
“I’m sure I only startled you because you’re on edge these days, thinking an assailant could be lurking in every shadow, something we at the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency are hoping to get rectified for you soon,” Eunice said, sitting forward, not a hint of her face to be seen since she’d pulled her many veils into place. “But in the spirit of Daphne’s embrace of informality, please, call me Eunice. Under no circumstance, though, should you call me sugar plum or, heaven forbid, poppet.”
Herman’s lips twitched. “I can’t think of a circumstance where I’d feel inclined to call you sugar plum. Any suggestions on how I’m supposed to explain you to my grandmother? I was unaware you were joining us.”
“No need to fret because I’m not joining you,” Eunice returned. “I decided it would be prudent to keep Daphne company on the long ride here to help keep her nerves in check.”
“How is the state of her nerves?”
“Didn’t see a trace of them on our journey, so I believe she’s fine.”
Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. “You told me you were accompanying me because you needed to provide Elsy and Phillip with a chaperone, and because you wanted an opportunity to enjoy the luxurious carriage Madame Calve so generously loaned to us for the trip.”
“Who wouldn’t want to ride in a carriage like this?” Eunice asked, giving the cushy seat a pat. “And I did want to provide Elsy and Phillip with my services as a chaperone. It would have been irresponsible to leave them alone together on the long ride back to the city. That could have caused all sorts of talk, even with Elsy dressed as a man.”
Herman scratched his chin. “I never considered that Bleecker Street agents needed to worry about chaperones.”
“It’s a matter we certainly can’t neglect,” Eunice said briskly. “The reputations of our agents must be protected at all costs because there are many men in the city who are already doing their best to see our little agency close its doors forever. That means we can’t chance any hint of impropriety. Those men would swoop on that in a heartbeat, even with our now having the blessing of Reverend Patrick Danford, vicar at St. Luke’s Chapel. Reverend Danford has recently begun aiding us with cases that involve unethical landlords. However, even with his participation, we still face challenges from men in the city who don’t believe women have any business operating an inquiry agency.”
Herman shoved a hand in his pocket, retrieving his ever-handy notepad. “I know this is hardly the time to linger about asking questions, but I can’t resist asking how Reverend Danford is assisting you with unethical landlords, or better yet, how he became involved with the agency in the first place.”
Eunice scooted forward on the seat. “One of our agents, Miss Betsy Adler, works during the day as Reverend Danford’s assistant at St. Luke’s. She told him about a landlord we were investigating who takes money from single women, then claims they never paid him rent and evicts them without notice. Reverend Danford was troubled by that and insisted on traveling with Betsy to have a chat with this man.”
“We were pleased to discover that the inclusion of a man of the cloth had this landlord miraculously remembering that he collected rent from these women,” Daphne added. “Reverend Danford offered to step in if we were presented with other cases involving unscrupulous landlords. Sadly, we’ve been presented with numerous cases of that, which has kept Reverend Danford and Betsy busy.” She smiled. “They’ve discovered a great deal of success when Reverend Danford begins reciting verses from Proverbs, his favorite one being ‘Bread of deceit is sweet to a man; but afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel.’”
It really came as no surprise when Herman began scribbling away.
“It appears your entrance has drawn attention, what with all the people who are now streaming out of Herman’s house,” Eunice suddenly said, interrupting Herman’s writing. “I believe this is where Elsy, Phillip, and I should take our leave.”
Daphne glanced up and discovered at least twenty people mingling in the vestibule, the sight of them causing the breath to catch in her throat.
“You’ll be fine,” Phillip said, moving to stand beside her. “Just remember, you’re a lady of sophistication. Everyone will be clamoring to seek your favor, as well as discover who created your delightfully stylish wardrobe.”
Her breathing immediately returned to normal as she grinned. “And I’ll be certain to tell them that every article of clothing I possess came from Villard’s Dress Shop.”
Phillip rubbed his hands together. “I can already envision the sales. But do take care, and remember, if you feel you’re getting in over your head, Ann is here to help you, as well as Agent Clifton.” He turned to Herman before he gestured to the pile of trunks now stacked on the drive. “Shall I take those inside, or shall I leave them for one of your footmen?”
Herman stuck his notepad back in his pocket and turned his attention to the trunks, his eyes widening. “My footmen will take care of that. But surely not all four of those trunks are for Daphne, are they?”
Phillip smiled. “A sophisticated woman requires an extensive wardrobe.” He brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve. “We’re fortunate I’ve been designing my own line of late, which is how I was able to provide Daphne with enough clothes to see her through a week’s stay here.”
“It looks like she’s intending to stay a month.”
“Be thankful this is spring and not winter. Had it been winter, she would have needed at least eight trunks.” Phillip sent Daphne a wink, then went to join Elsy, who’d already climbed up on the driver’s seat and was smiling as she held the reins in a somewhat practiced hand. Her smile dimmed when Phillip held out his hand, and with a dramatic sigh, Elsy turned the reins over to him.
“I’ll see you next week,” Eunice said when Daphne stuck her head back into the carriage to bid her friend good-bye. “If you have any difficulties, send a telegram, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. Remember, you’re braver than you think, which reminds me.” Eunice began rummaging around in her reticule. “Reverend Danford wanted me to give you this.”
Daphne unfolded the paper and read over the words written on the page. Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest. She tucked the paper into her bag. “It’s an encouraging verse, although I’m not sure God expects me to be courageous. I began asking Him for courage years ago, but sadly, that request has never been granted.”
After bidding Eunice another good-bye, Daphne stepped away from the carriage, watching as Phillip steered it expertly around the circular drive and began heading down the lane. Drawing in a steadying breath, she squared her shoulders and faced Herman’s house, taking a second to appreciate the magnificence of his country home.
Three-and-a-half stories high, the exterior was a moody shade of pewter and appeared to be stucco overlaid on stone. Dignified was the word that sprang to mind to describe the air surrounding the house, likely brought about because of the four pillars that reached to the second level and flanked a door that was stained a deep mahogany. At least twenty steps led from the drive to the vestibule, and as Daphne’s gaze returned to the front door, she discovered Herman’s guests still assembled there, their attention turned her way.
She readjusted the spectacles Phillip had insisted she purchase to complete her masquerade, ones that sported glittering cut-glass stones marching along the frame that tended to blind her if the sun hit them just right, and took a closer look at Herman’s guests. Half of them were ladies, all of whom seemed to be whispering behind gloved hands, their attention settled on her.
That attention recalled her to the role she was supposed to be playing.
Refusing to acknowledge nerves that were attempting to make themselves known, Daphne raised a hand and sent the crowd what she hoped would come across as a languid yet oh-so-sophisticated wave.
It took a great deal of effort to swallow a laugh when ev
ery guest waved back at her.
Herman picked Almira up before he offered her his arm. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She linked her arm with his and then they began to climb the steps, finding herself praying that the heels she was unaccustomed to wearing wouldn’t trip her up. Reaching the landing, she breathed a sigh of relief, the relief short-lived, though, when she realized that Mildred Henderson had reappeared and was currently in the process of shooing all the guests into the house.
Herman pulled Daphne to a stop and winced, a telling gesture if there ever was one. “Now, no need for alarm, but it appears that Grandmother wants to be introduced to you without an audience.”
“I’d be less alarmed if you hadn’t just winced,” Daphne muttered right as the last of the guests disappeared through the front door and Mildred turned her attention on Daphne.
Daphne felt a distinct inclination to turn and flee down the long drive when Mildred began looking her up and down, quite as if she were taking her measure. Given the way Mildred’s brows were now drawn together, it was not much of a stretch to conclude the lady found her lacking.
“Grandmother,” Herman began as he gave Daphne’s arm a reassuring squeeze, which did have the inclination to flee fading the slightest bit, “it is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Daphne Beekman. Daphne, this is my grandmother, Mrs. William Henderson.”
Summoning what she hoped was a charming smile, Daphne dipped into a curtsy and straightened, not taking it as an encouraging sign when Mildred narrowed blue eyes on her. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Henderson.”
For the briefest of moments, Mildred didn’t respond, her gaze settled on Herman’s arm, one that Daphne was now gripping rather tightly with her gloved hand. The impulse to flee returned in a flash.