An Agent for Emily (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 28)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “I’ve always found brandy to be a remarkable curative.” Mrs. Donovan looked Todd up and down. “Tell me, young man. Are the rumors about you true?”

  “Rumors? What rumors?”

  “I hear you’re a drunkard and a womanizer.”

  Todd laughed. “You certainly do get straight to the point.”

  “I see no use in beating around the bush. We don’t have time for that, do we?” She addressed her dog, who may or may not have agreed with her. Emily wasn’t sure.

  “To answer your question, yes to both. I drink my fair share, and I do enjoy the company of ladies. But I’ve never been arrested for either, and my company is generally considered pleasant.”

  “I suppose we’ll see about that as the weekend progresses,” Mrs. Donovan said. She then turned to Emily. “Listen to your cousin and take comfort from him, my dear. I’m sure Mr. Tobler will be just fine, and you should try to take some enjoyment from this gala. I know that my brother and his wife have high hopes for everyone’s entertainment.”

  Emily nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Donovan.” She paused, acting as though an idea had just struck her. “I haven’t seen Mr. Astor as of yet, and I wanted to thank him for inviting me. Do you know where I might find him?”

  “I haven’t seen him since early this morning, but I’m sure he’ll turn up for dinner. My brother would never miss a sumptuous feast—in fact, he might even come back from the dead if there’s roast beef involved.” She laughed, making the dog she held jiggle up and down a little. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to change for dinner.”

  “And we’d better do the same. Thank you again.” Emily gave the woman a nod and watched her disappear down the hall, then turned back to Todd. “His own sister doesn’t know where he is,” she whispered.

  “She’s likely right and he’ll show up at dinner,” Todd replied. “We’d best go change too. I’ll see if Jeremy feels well enough to be left alone for an hour or so.”

  Emily nodded. “If he’s not, we can take turns sitting with him.”

  “And if he is, we can still use him as an excuse. Amazing the amount of skulking around one could do while one is supposed to be tending to an invalid.”

  “Very true.”

  Emily thought about that while Bessie helped button up her dress. As long as Jeremy wasn’t in danger, they could use his illness as a cover for the times when they needed to slip away. But that brought to mind another question—what if he got worse? She couldn’t even imagine, and frankly didn’t want to imagine—what he might have swallowed. She’d read about bacteria in one of those horrid books Anna was always insisting would enrich her education, and the thought of it was more than Emily could bear.

  She shuddered.

  “Are you all right, miss?” Bessie asked.

  “I’m fine, Bessie. I was just thinking about Mr. Tobler.”

  “I’m sure you are, miss. But he’s in good hands—Dr. Crane is very good at his job.”

  “Yes, he seemed very competent.” Emily turned toward the mirror. “How should I wear my hair?”

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, I noticed some lovely silver combs in your jewelry case. What if you swept up the sides and back with the combs and then let some of these pieces trail down in curls?” Bessie demonstrated what she meant, gathering up Emily’s hair and holding it in place.

  “Yes, that’s quite nice. Let’s do that.”

  Emily sat still and watched Bessie’s hands work their magic. She wondered how much this girl earned in a month and if her father would stand the expense of hiring her away. It would be lovely to have someone to dress her and fix her hair, but her father would likely consider it a needless expense. Someday when she married, she’d have a ladies’ maid, and she’d have a number of other things she wanted too.

  Then she chuckled, remembering that she was married.

  “Is everything all right, miss?”

  “Yes, quite. I was just thinking about something.”

  “I’m glad you’re able to laugh in your time of worry. My grandmother always said we should mix laughter with our tears. It would make them hurt less.”

  “She sounds like a wise woman.”

  “She was, miss. Now, what do you think of your hair?”

  Emily turned her head from side to side, studying her reflection. “I think you did a wonderful job. Thank you, Bessie.”

  “You’re welcome, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, I think that’s all. Run along and see who else needs you.”

  Bessie excused herself, closing the door behind her, and Emily turned back to the mirror. Yes, she was married, for all the difference it had made in her life. She’d been worried that it would be a huge inconvenience, but she needn’t have feared. It’s not as though she and Todd had even spent more than a few minutes together all day. Getting the marriage reversed would be simple, and that would be that.

  Then her search for a real husband would begin.

  ***

  Todd stood at the base of the stairs, a glass of brandy in one hand. Jeremy was resting after taking some medication and having a bowl of soup, and the nurse was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. The whole thing was ridiculously inconvenient, but all they could do now was work with what they’d been given.

  He leaned against the bannister, doing his best to look languid. He was itching to get busy, and all this waiting was difficult. As soon as he could, he’d be sneaking off to Astor’s study—he felt like time was slipping away from them.

  “Mr. Gray, there you are. I trust everything’s all right with your friend.”

  He turned to see Mrs. Duncan standing behind him, her husband a few steps behind and their daughter bringing up the end of the group. “He’s resting and seems to be doing well. Thank you for asking.”

  “Such nasty business, ending up in the water like that. I know Mrs. Cunningham feels dreadful—it being her parasol and all.”

  “I’m sure he hasn’t a moment of resentment over it. He’s not the type to worry about things like that.” Todd noticed Miss Duncan glancing at him and gave her a little nod. “Did you have an enjoyable afternoon, Miss Duncan? I saw a game of lawn croquet through the window.”

  “Yes, it was very nice.” Her cheeks colored a little bit, and she stammered as she answered him.

  “I’ve never understood the finer points of the game. Perhaps if the weather’s fine tomorrow, you could teach me.”

  “I’d like that, Mr. Gray,” she replied.

  “If one of her parents is available to chaperone,” Mrs. Duncan was quick to insert.

  “Of course. That would make it all the merrier.” Todd lifted his glass in a toast, then saw that Emily was making her way down the stairs and raised his glass to her instead.

  She was an absolute vision, floating down the stairs in a cloud of fabrics and lace. For a moment, Todd forgot about everything—the case, his façade, the fact that he was posing as her cousin—and just appreciated the sight of her. He had put everything in his personal life on hold for his career and hadn’t missed having a wife or family, but seeing Emily coming toward him caused a peculiar pang in his chest that surprised him.

  “Ah, my lovely cousin, come to enchant us all with her beauty,” he said as she reached the ground floor. “I salute you.” He lifted his glass once more, hoping to cover any traces of admiration that might have shown on his face. Being caught unaware like that would certainly ruin his cover.

  “I see you’ve already helped yourself to a liquid refreshment,” she replied.

  “Not so. Not so in the slightest. There was a very accommodating butler standing next to the sideboard, and he was kind enough to pour for me.” Todd smirked at Mr. Duncan, who seemed to appreciate the joke and chuckled in return.

  “Regardless of who actually obtained the drink, I hope it’s your only one for the evening,” Emily rejoined.

  “It’s too late for that, dear cousin. This is my second.”

  Sh
e shook her head and turned to Priscilla Duncan. “I hope you’ll sit next to me at dinner and remind me of everyone’s names. I’m terrible at keeping things like that straight.”

  “I’d be honored, Miss Gray,” Priscilla replied, her cheeks going a little pink.

  “If that doesn’t disturb Mrs. Astor’s seating chart,” Mrs. Duncan interjected. “We mustn’t be rude to our hostess.”

  “Seating charts are much more flexible than anyone realizes,” Emily replied, tucking her arm through Priscilla’s. “And without Jeremy here, I’ll be quite lost. Let’s go into the drawing room and chat while we wait for the dinner bell, all right?”

  Priscilla nodded, and the two moved in that direction arm in arm. They hadn’t made it far, though, when a knock sounded at the front door, and the butler moved to answer it.

  A woman of about forty was ushered into the foyer. She looked a little rattled, as though she’d had quite a time of it on her way there, and Todd edged nearer to see if he could hear what was being said.

  “I’m Mary Perceval, and I’m expected here this weekend,” she was telling the butler while she unwrapped a tremendously long scarf from around her neck, followed by a large hat. It seemed to be some kind of traveling ensemble, as next she pulled off a pair of gloves.

  “Of course, Mrs. Perceval. We’ve all been expecting you.” The butler turned and gave a nod to a maid standing nearby, who turned and trotted up the stairs. “Mrs. Astor is being notified of your arrival as we speak.”

  Mrs. Astor must have been somewhat near the top of the stairs already because only a second or two passed before she appeared. “Mary!” she cried out, coming down the stairs as quickly as she could in her voluminous dress. Todd had always wondered how women could stand those things. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d make it in time for dinner.”

  “It’s certainly been a day. One thing after another. When Maurice telegrammed to say we were going to be late, he nearly told you we weren’t coming at all, but I talked him into changing the message. I wasn’t about to give up. I suppose it worried Mr. Astor, though—when he showed up not an hour later to convince us to come, I knew it was important that we be here.”

  Mrs. Astor looked flummoxed. “My husband came to see you today?”

  “Yes, he did. He arrived a bit before lunch, and he and Gerald have been talking business all day. They sent me ahead so I wouldn’t miss dinner. Didn’t you know?”

  Mrs. Astor exhaled with relief. “I had no idea. He just disappeared, and I haven’t heard from him since. How nice to have that little mystery solved, and yes, you are just in time for dinner.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll go freshen up and join you as quickly as I can.”

  Todd took another sip of his drink as he watched Mrs. Perceval ascend the staircase, followed by the footman who was also carrying her trunk. Yes, nice to have that part of the mystery solved.

  He stepped into the drawing room and found Emily chatting quite merrily with Priscilla in the corner. The poor girl looked worlds better now that Emily had taken her over, and Todd had a flash of appreciation for what Emily was doing. His sisters had struggled quite a bit making that transition into society, and if they’d had someone like Emily to smooth their way, it would have made all the difference. She kept referring to herself as being unrepentantly selfish, but she was a lot less selfish than she believed herself to be.

  Mrs. Perceval kept her promise and appeared in the drawing room just a few minutes later, wearing a fresh dress and looking less rattled. Mrs. Astor beamed when she saw her friend enter. “Let’s go through to dinner,” she said to the room at large. “I’m sure Mr. Astor and Mr. Perceval will be here shortly, and we’ll catch them up on all the good gossip when they arrive.”

  Everyone chuckled politely, and then they followed their hostess into the lavish dining room.

  There were no seating assignments, which suited Emily’s plan, of course. Todd glanced around and spotted Mrs. Donovan near the doorway. “My dear madam, I find myself quite without a dinner partner,” he said, holding out his arm. “May I escort you?”

  “I’d be delighted,” she said with a giggle, and he led her over to a chair. Her small furry companion settled onto her lap comfortably, only peeking over the edge of the table from time to time.

  “His name is Hermie, if I understand?” Todd asked.

  “That’s right. You’re very observant, Mr. Gray.”

  “I’m terrible with numbers or history or geography . . . or anything useful, really . . . but I’m excellent with people. If I do say so myself.” He looked down at her lap. “And their little friends.” Hermie wagged his tail.

  Once everyone was seated, the footmen began bringing around the first course, and everyone fell to eating. Between bites, Todd was able to learn from Mrs. Donovan that her brother had been in business in Denver a number of years, with a series of associated successes and failures. She assured him that working for Mr. Gray would be enjoyable, and he’d still have time to spend on his own pursuits. He was in the middle of sharing his doubts on that topic when another knock sounded in the foyer.

  “I’m sure that’s our husbands now,” Mrs. Astor said, rising from her chair. Before she made it halfway down the length of the table toward the door, however, a uniformed police officer entered the room, followed by another. Mrs. Astor’s head turned from one to the other. “May I help you?”

  “We’re looking for a Mrs. Mary Perceval and also a Mrs. Harmonia Astor,” the first man said.

  “I’m Mrs. Astor,” their hostess replied.

  “And I’m Mrs. Perceval.” She came to stand next to Mrs. Astor, and Todd saw her clasp hands with her friend. “Is something the matter?”

  The police officer glanced around and seemed to notice there was a party going on. “Sorry to interrupt your gathering, ma’am. Is there someplace more private where we could talk?”

  “Not without another lady present,” Emily said, coming to her feet. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Quite right. Yes. Is there such a place?” the policeman pressed.

  “Yes. We can go into the drawing room,” Mrs. Astor replied. “This way, please. Miss Gray, thank you for your kind offer.”

  Emily glanced at Todd over her shoulder as she exited the room, and he grinned. She was a quick thinker, that one. Now they’d know what the police wanted without having to wait to hear it.

  Chapter Nine

  Emily took a seat near the window, close enough to the main conversation so she wouldn’t miss anything, but out of the way so she wouldn’t be a distraction. Mrs. Astor and Mrs. Perceval were still clutching each other’s hands, and she couldn’t blame them. Policemen never showed up to talk about pleasant things.

  “Ladies, once again, we’re sorry to interrupt, and if we had any other choice, we wouldn’t be here at all,” the first man said. “But there’s been an incident, and we have some news to deliver.”

  “It’s our husbands, isn’t it?” Mrs. Perceval said. “They were supposed to be on their way here, but something’s happened.”

  The officer cleared his throat. “Ma’am, about thirty minutes ago, a man walking along the train tracks a bit outside of town here found something unusual lying on the ground. It . . . was a body, ma’am, and based on papers found on his person, it’s the body of your husband.”

  “What?” Mrs. Perceval gasped, her eyes flying wide. “What did you say?”

  “Your husband’s body was found along the train tracks a short ways out of town,” the man repeated, although Emily was sure Mrs. Perceval had heard him the first time. It was clarification she wanted, not a repeat of what she’d already been told.

  “How could such a thing be?” Mrs. Astor asked. “What happened?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” the officer replied. Emily wondered if the other man was capable of speaking at all or if he was just there for decoration. “Please recite to us the events of the day, Mrs. Perceval.”

  “Well
. . .” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “We were preparing to come out here for the weekend, you see. I had the trunks nearly ready to go, and then Maurice came in, quite upset. He’d gotten a letter saying that one of his business ventures was in trouble, and he wanted to cancel our visit. I told him that we needed to spend some time away and to enjoy the company of friends, and he could take care of his business problems when we got home. He finally agreed that everything could wait until Monday, but he needed to take care of a few things before we left. So he sent a telegram to the Astors saying we’d be a little late.”

  “Where is it that you live, Mrs. Perceval?” the officer asked. Emily thought that was odd—if Mr. Perceval had papers on him that stated his identity, wouldn’t they also state his address? But she supposed not, and concentrated on listening for the answer.

  She gave him the address. “Just one stop away, if you’re riding the train,” she explained.

  “I see. Please, go on.”

  “Well, we were quite surprised when Mr. Astor showed up a little while later. He must have received the telegram and headed straight for the train station.”

  “He did,” Harmonia added. “In fact, he didn’t say anything to me at all. He just left. I was quite rattled.”

  “I’m sure.” The officer made a note in his book. “When Mr. Astor came, did he seem upset, Mrs. Perceval?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I served some coffee, and then I went back to finishing my packing. After a little while, I asked them when we were going to leave to come here, and my husband said they were still discussing business. They suggested that I go ahead and come without them so I wouldn’t miss out on the festivities, and they’d be right behind.” Her lips trembled. “I . . . I really thought . . . when you knocked on the door, I thought you were my husband.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the officer said. He glanced at his companion, then back at her. “What time did you leave your home?”

  “Oh, goodness. It must have been around three, I suppose. Everything went wrong—first I had to wait for our groomsman to fix the harness on our horse because it broke while he was hitching up our carriage. Then when I reached the station, I learned that I’d just missed the train and would have to wait for the next one. Then that one was delayed. Then I had a hard time finding a hirable carriage to bring me out here once I finally made it to the station.”