The Incredibly Irritating Irishman: Book Three of the Conn-Mann Chronicles

by Rie Sheridan Rose

  It would be a most thought-provoking match. Kevin Reilly was very handsome, and he and Fred shared more interests than he shared with me—especially guns. Maybe her interest could lead to him removing himself from my list of suitors. I really didn’t need, or want, more than Alistair, but Kevin had been getting a bit...intimate in his remarks of late, and I didn’t want to encourage him. I could, in good conscience, encourage him to court Fred.

  When we arrived at the precinct house, I led Fred around to the back stairs and showed her the door at the top. “This leads almost directly to Kevin’s office. His door is next to it in the hallway. A discreet knock on this door—” I demonstrated. “—might have—ah, the desired result.” I smiled down at her as the door swung open.

  “This door isn’t for public access!” Kevin roared—before he saw who stood on the stairway. “Ah, Miss Mann. I should’ve known.”

  He stepped back, gesturing me inside.

  “Come, Fred.”

  Kevin started. I don’t think he’d noticed her there on the lower step. His eyes narrowed and he scowled at me.

  I smiled as sweetly as I could, and sailed past him into the environs beyond the door. I’d been practicing my sailing into rooms, and I think I was beginning to master it quite well.

  As I stepped into his tiny office, I noted with a private chuckle that the room had been made spotless. He mightn’t have been expecting us, but I believe he’d been hopeful of a return visit.

  They entered the room together, Kevin with a solicitous hand on her elbow. He led her to her chair, and she smiled up at him in thanks.

  I wondered if Alistair and I made such goggle-eyes at each other. They’d only just met, for goodness sake! Of course, sometimes attraction hit one quite out of the blue…as it had when I met Alistair.

  Kevin settled himself back behind his desk. “Now, what are you here for this time, Miss Mann?”

  “You promised to send inquiries to County Cork for me, Inspector. I wanted to see if those telegrams bore fruit.”

  “I received replies just this morning. I hadn’t had time to contact you.” He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out some telegraph flimsies. “It looks like you’re correct to be worried about this man. He hasn’t a violent history, it seems, but he’s well known to the authorities, with a long record of petty thievery, public intoxication, and rabble-rousing. He was originally merely the ward of a man named Morgan O’Leary, but when the man’s daughter—your mother?—fled to America with her new husband, O’Leary officially adopted the boy, who apparently was his nephew. He was raised as a pampered son and heir, but the old man relented on his deathbed, calling his solicitor and changing his will. He left his entire fortune—quite a substantial one, at that—to his daughter...or her heirs if she had predeceased him.”

  My mouth dropped open in shock. “A fortune?”

  “Yes, Josephine. It appears you are now a very wealthy young woman—or will be at some point. Apparently, Morgan O’Leary wasn’t as near death as he thought. He had a rally, and—while still quite ill—is alive and as well as can be expected for a man his age. However, his will remains as amended. Unless he changes his mind again.”

  Seamus had intimated something of the sort, but I hadn’t really believed him. I’d toyed with the idea of having money of my own to experiment with, but I’d expected a comfortable stipend at most, not a “substantial fortune.”

  No wonder Seamus was being so persistent—especially if he’d been raised to consider the money his. I wondered if this other cousin, Colin, even existed...

  “When I spoke to Mr. O’Leary last, he was threatening to dispose of me and tell the lawyers we’d been wed before my death. If there’s a substantial fortune involved, he may well carry out that threat! Now, can I borrow the pepper-pot?”

  Fred leaned across Kevin’s desk and placed a hand on his. “I promise to teach her how to use it correctly.”

  Kevin looked into her eyes. “In that case, I suppose it’s only right for her to have a way to protect herself.”

  He sighed, reaching into his desk and pulling out the pepper-pot. He set it on the desk between us. “Do not use this lightly, Josephine, but protect yourself. The world would be much darker without you.”

  Fred dimpled. “Thank you, Inspector—”

  “—Kevin,” he broke in.

  “Kevin, then. I’ll feel much better if Jo isn’t wandering around the city getting into her usual hare-brained escapades without protection. Now, may we have the bullets?”

  Victor’s testimony on the matter was enough to ensure that Thomas was sent away to the Tombs for a long time. Although he did dwell more on the fact that his mother’s house had been destroyed than on what occured in that house of an evening.

  Mrs. Carrouthers wasn’t happy with a life of leisure, and most of her girls didn’t fancy working for anyone else. They were loyal to their mistress, but still needed to eat. It wasn’t long before she had a new establishment in another section of the city.

  But Opal no longer worked the door. Her new husband didn’t want her to try to worry about two households. She visited quite often, however, as she quite enjoyed her mother-in-law’s company.

  — Garrett Goldthwaite

  Old-Fashioned Opal and the House of Ill-Repute

  Chapter 27

  As soon as we said goodbye to Kevin and were down the outside stairs, I whirled on Fred. “‘Hare-brained escapades’? Really, Fred!”

  “I told him what he wanted to hear, Jo. He’s a...fascinating man, but he is a man.”

  We were giggling like children as we rounded the corner to the street. I ran straight into Seamus O’Leary.

  I gasped, stepping back and fumbling to get the pepper-pot out of my bag. Then, I remembered it wasn’t loaded. Damn, Kevin Reilly.

  Fred pulled a small derringer out of her own bag. “You have got to be joking, Mr. O’Leary,” she said coolly. “We’re standing right outside the police station! Don’t try anything foolish—I promise you, I’m not nearly as bad a shot as Miss Mann.”

  Seamus raised his hands. “Hold on, now! I weren’t here t’ cause trouble. In fact, I was goin’ inside t’ go talk t’ tha police right now.”

  “Why should we believe you?” I asked, from my position of strategic retreat behind Fred’s shoulder. After all, she had the working gun.

  “I’m tired o’ messin’ wit’ ye. Yer too much trouble. Nuttin’s worth all this grief. Not even a fortune. Yer a divil, y’are. Every time I think I’ve got ya taken care of, ya crawl away like a rat and cause me more grief. I’m tired o’ it. I know yer friendly wit’ tha police, so ‘tis just as eaisy t’ turn meself in than t’ wait fer them t’ pick me up and throw me in tha Tombs.”

  There was something awfully convenient about this change of heart. Perhaps Seamus was telling the truth, but perhaps he was hedging his bets and trying to worm his way out of prosecution again. Or, perhaps, he had discovered there wasn’t any fortune after all.

  There was no way to know without taking him into the precinct house and letting the law handle it. And then, a trip to Ireland might be inevitable.

  A shadow passed over me, and I glanced up. That blasted metal bird was circling overhead. If it was one of Seamus’s creatures, as I was beginning to assume, then that was no coincidence. I wondered what his end game might be…

  Fred kept her pistol trained on Seamus as we marched him into the precinct house. The coincidence of him turning up just as we were leaving was almost astronomical, but—on the other hand—the world was full of chance occurrences, and many of them had been landing on my doorstep lately.

  Of course, Fred kept her pistol low and discreetly hidden in the folds of her skirt once we actually walked into the station. We didn’t want to be arrested ourselves, after all.

  Sergeant Doyle was passing the front door with a stack of papers when we entered. “Oh, Lord help us!” he cried. “What is going on now?”

  “Sergeant, we would like to h
ave this man arrested,” I answered.

  “Ya can’t just pop ‘round whenever ya want, causing trouble fer decent folk.”

  “He’s not decent folk, Sergeant. Go and get Inspector Reilly. He’ll sort this out.”

  The sergeant sighed as if we were asking him to empty the National Treasury single-handedly. “I’ll tell the boy yer here. Stand over there.” He waved vaguely toward a bench on the side of the large room.

  Fred jerked her head at the bench, and Seamus went willingly to sit on it. She tucked her pistol back into her bag—there were probably better shots in the room anyway.

  I sat beside Seamus on the bench. “You realize this all could’ve been avoided, don’t you?”

  “What’re ya blatherin’ about?”

  “If you’d come to me and discussed things logically, instead of accosting me on the street with your ridiculous story, or kidnapping me like some sort of hooligan, we could possibly have come to some arrangement about the fortune it is quite possible that neither of us will inherit as the earl seems to have a very changeable mind.”

  “Most girls woulda bin happy t’ have a handsome stranger come a’courtin’, but not ye. Y’had t’ go and be a stubborn shrew!”

  I was quite affronted. I had never been anything but cordial to the man—until he started kidnapping me.

  Kevin strode toward us across the expanse of the station house. “What on earth is going on now?” he asked brusquely.

  “This is Seamus O’Leary,” I answered primly. “We’ve brought him to you to be arrested.”

  Garrett Goldthwaite has been spinning yarns since he was a pup. Born in the wilds of Colorado to a prospector and a squaw, he managed to get a first-rate education despite these humble upbringings. He can draw faster, shoot straighter and ride better than most anyone in the territories—just ask him. If you’re looking for a thrilling tale of derring-do, Goldthwaite’s books are for you!

  Also by Garrett Goldthwaite:

  Sensible Sally and the Backwoods Bachelor

  Panama Prudence and the Poison Pen

  Hardcase Hannah and the Caverns of Midnight

  Redheaded Rachel and the Underwater Wilderness

  Calico Kate and the River of Gold

  Analytical Amy and the Case of the Covetous Cad

  Chapter 28

  It was all rather anti-climactic in the long run. After all the kidnappings, and the fire, and spending a night in a brothel, to have Seamus walk up to the police station and demand to be arrested was...odd. I didn’t think we’d seen the last of his tricks.

  Kevin Reilly helped with the paperwork, and—since the villain had been captured, and would presumably not be bothering me further—took away the pepper-pot again. Still, by the time we left the station, Seamus was firmly incarcerated behind bars.

  “You’re sure he’ll be prosecuted to the fullest?” I asked Kevin.

  “Well, he’s confessed to kidnapping you not once, but twice. And several other things you might not even know about. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on the next ship back to Ireland.”

  “He won’t be on trial here?”

  “That’s for the court to decide, but I think it would be better if he wasn’t. Don’t you think he’s caused enough trouble here in New York City?”

  I was a bit disappointed. I had been quite looking forward to being a witness at his trial. I hadn’t been needed to speak at Blessant’s trial—Alistair hadn’t even let me attend.

  But, on the other hand, getting Seamus far away from here would be the next best thing. I dragged Fred away from the police station—which wasn’t an easy thing to do—and we walked home so we could have a nice long chat about Kevin.

  When we got back to the brownstone, there was a new carriage standing outside the boarding house. A beautiful pair of matched bays stood in the traces.

  “I wonder who that belongs to?” I remarked.

  “Let’s find out,” Fred answered, taking my hand and pulling me into the house.

  When we got inside, we found everyone in the dining room around a table set for tea. And by everyone, I mean our fellow lodgers, Aunt Emily, Leonora, Ma, and even Vanessa and Roderick.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  Leonora smiled. “We’re celebrating, dear.”

  “What are we celebrating?”

  “My new home,” she answered, “my new carriage.”

  “I thought you just bought a trap?”

  She poured herself a fresh cup of tea. “I did. And I also bought a carriage.”

  I shook my head in amusement. Leonora had so much fun spending her money. If I really were to come into money of my own someday, I suppose I could have a bit of fun with it too.

  Alistair came to my side. “May I speak to you...alone?”

  “Of course, Alistair,” I said, following him into the hallway.

  He was being awfully evasive. I hadn’t seen much of him at all lately, between the being kidnapped, and the other craziness that had been going on, but I thought things were going very well. His feelings had been blossoming quite nicely.

  “What is it you needed to see me about, Alistair?”

  He took a deep breath, and then blurted out, “I think our business arrangement isn’t working. I-I’m afraid I will have to let you go.”

  My jaw dropped. That was not in the least what I was expecting him to say. Perhaps I hadn’t heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re just so impulsive—not that that’s necessarily a bad thing,” he continued hastily. “I just feel Herbert’s better suited to be my assistant. He’s stronger than you, and more willing to listen to my instructions...most of the time...without argument. I don’t have to explain everything to him…”

  My world was crashing about my ears. I knew I’d been slack about my duties of late, but I’d thought he understood. Apparently, not. Things began to gray about the edges…

  But I wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. I gulped down a feeling of nausea.

  “Whatever you say, Alistair,” I whispered.

  What would I do? Would Ma let me stay at the boarding house? My heart was breaking.

  And he was absolutely unaware of it. He patted my hand.

  “It will all be for the best, you’ll see. You can still be useful around the warehouse, if you wish. After all, you have a much better rapport with Winifred. You can help her with her little experiments.”

  I wanted to hit him. Hard. And often.

  I had done everything he asked of me—though sometimes it took a little longer than he liked—and I was being cast off like an afterthought.

  Not to mention the insult to Fred. Her inventions were every bit as good as his.

  “Whatever you say, Professor Conn,” I replied again, fighting to keep my voice even. My eyes began to fill with tears, and I gulped them back.

  “And, since we’ll no longer be professional colleagues...” His voice trailed away, then he took another deep breath. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to call on you...as an official suitor?”

  My heart skipped a beat, and then began pounding in my chest. Well. That was unexpected…and most welcome.

  “I-I’d like that a great deal,” I replied softly.

  “Good,” he said, with a decisive nod. “That’s good then.”

  He held out his undamaged arm, and I took it, heart soaring as thoughts whirled through my head. Foremost among them, in the immediate moment, was that working with Fred would give me a lot more freedom to pursue my own inventions.

  Oh—and that Alistair was now officially my beau.

  We walked back into the dining room, and Leonora looked up from her plate. “Oh good, you’ve asked her.”

  Alistair’s face flushed and then whitened. I’m sure mine did the same.

  Leonora burst into laughter. “Oh, dear. You two are priceless.”

  “What did you ask her?” Herbert asked, stuffing a piece of cake into his mouth.

  Fred rolled
her eyes, and patted my chair beside her. “Come sit. Tell me all.”

  Reluctantly, I released Alistair’s arm so that he could pull out my chair, and then retire to his own seat. My eyes followed him across the room. I had a beau—and precisely the one I had wanted.

  I turned to Fred and whispered the entire story into her ear.

  She squealed, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Everyone at the table looked at her. The women, even Vanessa, were all wearing indulgent smiles as they studied us. It must’ve been very obvious what had caused the outburst.

  The men looked lost—even Alistair. Oh, well…I still had a bit of work to do to get him precisely where I wanted.

  Still, looking around the table at the people assembled, I felt my heart swell with gratitude. Your first family you were born into—you had no choice in the matter, and it could end up a disaster…as Seamus had demonstrated. But your family of the heart, that you built from the people you loved, and I was the luckiest girl in the world to have found such a wonderful welcome here at Ma’s. And the circle continued to grow. Who could ask for more?