by Jen Turano
Squaring her shoulders, Millie squeezed Lucetta’s hand, and then, with Everett still keeping a firm grip of her other hand, they turned as one and headed for Abigail’s cottage.
14
Less than thirty minutes later, Everett drove his buggy toward the harbor, still shaken by what had happened with Elizabeth.
Her despair had been soul deep, and he’d longed to stay with her to offer whatever comfort he could, but Reverend Gilmore had been right—he needed to track down the person sailing Fred’s yacht.
He should not have disregarded Millie’s suspicions so easily.
Something was definitely amiss, and it was past time he discovered what that something was.
“If you would stop wiggling, I’d be able to get you buttoned properly.”
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he found Lucetta struggling to get Millie buttoned into her gown. Both ladies had barely taken any time at all to throw off their bathing attire and don dresses before they’d jumped into his buggy. When he’d voiced his amazement about how quickly they’d been able to leave Abigail’s cottage and get on their way, they’d proclaimed, somewhat indignantly, that it was not exactly the moment to primp.
Caroline and her friends wouldn’t have stepped so much as a toe out of their homes unless they were coiffed to perfection. But there was something charming about barreling down the road with ladies missing stockings and shoes, although he was a little ashamed of himself for sneaking a bit of a peek when Millie had rolled stockings up her legs.
It wasn’t well done of him, that peeking, but . . . he was only human after all, and . . . she had lovely legs. Although, it wasn’t well done of him, either, to be looking at any legs other than Caroline’s, not that he’d actually seen Caroline roll stockings up her legs. But since Caroline had disclosed such disturbing notions only hours before, he couldn’t help wonder why he hadn’t ended their alliance right then and there, which would have made his—
“Scoot closer to Everett. I don’t have enough room to work,” Lucetta said.
“I’m practically sitting on the poor man’s lap as it is,” Millie countered, although she did scoot another inch in his direction, that scooting leaving him with a strong desire to throw himself off the buggy seat because her knee was now firmly pressed against his leg.
Resignation settled in as he realized there was no longer any denying the fact, whether appropriate or not, he was attracted to Millie.
When he’d first touched her in the bathing machine, a shock of something sweet had coursed through him, that sweetness almost causing him to lose all good sense and . . . kiss her.
That he hadn’t given in to that concerning urge was a miracle. But, instead of immediately diving back into the sea and putting as much distance between them as possible, he’d proceeded to torture himself further by teaching her to swim.
Every time he’d touched her after that had been somewhat agonizing, but he hadn’t stopped, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to resist being in her company . . . to resist having an excuse to touch her.
His behavior was completely irrational, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. And it wasn’t as if he was only physically attracted to her, now that he considered the matter. She made him laugh and want to strangle her at times, but she also had an incredibly kind heart, and—
“If all of my sensible clothes hadn’t gone missing, or if Mrs. O’Connor hadn’t conveniently shredded my last skirt and blouse in that wringer—something I’m still not convinced was an accident—it wouldn’t be so difficult getting dressed,” Millie grumbled as she suddenly stuck a hand on his leg when the buggy ran over a rut in the road. Immediately snatching her hand back, she blew out a breath. “I do beg your pardon, Everett.”
“Think nothing of it,” he managed to respond in a voice that sounded a little high-pitched.
“There,” Lucetta proclaimed. “You’re completely buttoned. Now all we have to do is fix your hair, and you’ll be perfect.”
“I don’t know how you’re intending to fix my hair, especially since it’s still soaking wet, and . . . stiff with sea salt.”
“I’m an actress. Fixing appearances is my specialty.” Lucetta looked a little smug as she adjusted the large hat she’d plopped over her head. “My hair is salt-soaked as well, but no one will notice since I’ve arranged my hat just so, lending me a rather mysterious air.”
“You could plop a bowl of fruit on your head and you’d still look mysterious,” Millie said. “I wish I had one of my caps handy. That would solve my hair crisis nicely.”
Everett caught Millie’s eye. “I never liked your caps.”
“They’re practical.”
“And ugly,” Lucetta added, smiling over Millie’s head at him. She pulled a hat from behind her on the seat that was a little squished, and stuck it on Millie’s head, pulling a pin out of the bodice of her dress and sticking it through the hat. “There—you’re adorable.”
“I doubt that, but it’s not as if I’m overly concerned about my looks at the moment.” Millie turned front and center again, shifting just a bit in an obvious attempt to get comfortable. Her shifting had Everett fervently wishing he’d thought to ask Abigail for the use of her carriage. A carriage would have afforded the ladies an appropriate place to change while also—
“Is that the harbor up ahead?” Millie asked, drawing Everett from his thoughts.
Looking to where Millie was staring, Everett nodded. “It is . . . and . . .” He squinted against the glare of the sun. “There’s the yacht with the pink flag.”
Steering the buggy through the wagons and people milling around the harbor, Everett brought them to a stop in front of a hitching post. After securing the horse, he turned to help Millie and Lucetta down from the seat but found them already on the ground.
“I could have helped you,” he said, moving up to them and extending Millie, then Lucetta, an arm.
“As Lucetta mentioned before, this isn’t exactly the time to be worried about proper manners,” Millie said, taking the offered arm. “Besides, since we are at the docks—even though we’re in Newport—Lucetta and I need to look like we can take care of ourselves, which means we need to look intimidating.”
“You couldn’t look intimidating if you were sporting a rifle and held a knife between your teeth.”
“I’m sure I would look intimidating under those circumstances.”
Everett’s lips twitched. “Well, since I don’t have a rifle or a knife, we’ll just have to hope that all these men milling about the docks find me intimidating.”
“I can look intimidating,” Lucetta said as she took his offered arm, right before she drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she opened her eyes again, she looked . . . different. Gone was the quirky woman with the ready grin and sharp wit, replaced with a lady who was aloof, mysterious, and . . . a little scary.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
“Don’t ruin the mood” was all Lucetta said before she sent Millie the smallest of winks and started forward, leaving Everett no option but to keep pace with her, since both ladies were holding his arms.
An eerie silence settled around them as they walked, brought about no doubt by the presence of Millie and Lucetta at the docks. Men stopped moving and gawked their way, but Lucetta, Everett noticed, didn’t appear to notice them. Millie, on the other hand, was swiveling her head from side to side, taking in everything as her moss-green eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“It’s fascinating down here, all the different types of people, and . . . look, the yacht with the pink flag has a name.” Millie stopped, which had Everett and Lucetta stopping as well. “Adoring Violet—what a charming name for a boat.”
As Everett focused on the words Adoring Violet painted in black, he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Elizabeth was right,” he finally said. “This is Fred’s yacht, named after his wife.”
Lucetta took a step forward. “He must have loved her very much. I know i
t’s little consolation, but at least they’re still together.”
“Without their children,” Everett added.
Millie squeezed his arm. “Their children have you.”
“I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion I’m not worthy to have been given that honor.”
Lucetta swatted him with her hand. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Everett. Fred obviously chose you for a reason, which means you’re worthy. The children adore you now, and maybe someday you’ll figure out exactly why Fred and his Violet wanted you to have them.”
“Now probably isn’t that time though, since someone’s getting off the yacht,” Millie said with a jerk of her head back to the yacht.
“I need the two of you to wait here.” Ignoring the mumbles of protest that statement caused, Everett strode forward without the ladies, making his way directly for the man who’d just gotten off the Adoring Violet. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time, sir,” he said as the man drew even with him. “Could you tell me who the owner of the Adoring Violet is, and if that owner happens to still be on board?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a matter of privacy, sir, now . . . if you’ll excuse me.” The man brushed past Everett, but before Everett could go after him, Lucetta stepped forward. She was no longer the aloof and somewhat mysterious Lucetta. Instead, she was smiling brightly at the man, obviously having decided that her skill at playing the coquette would serve her well at this particular moment.
“Forgive me, sir, but I wondered if you might be able to lend me just the smallest amount of assistance?” Lucetta actually fluttered her lashes at the man, which immediately had him stumbling before he headed straight for her.
“I would be happy to help you, Miss . . . ?”
“Plum. I’m Miss Lucetta Plum.”
“Are you really? As in . . . the actress?”
Everett shot a glance to Millie and found her rolling her eyes right before she turned around and seemed to take a great interest in her surroundings.
“The last time I checked, I was, indeed, Lucetta Plum,” Lucetta said with a hint of what sounded exactly like exasperation in her tone. “But tell me, what is your name, sir?”
“I’m Captain . . .” The man’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat, then continued in a very deep, very masculine voice. “Captain Jonathon Jarvis, Miss Plum, at your service.”
“Lovely to meet you, Captain Jarvis, but getting back to that assistance. My friends and I spotted the Adoring Violet as it sailed past the cottage I’m visiting. We, or rather Mr. Everett Mulberry, the man standing behind you, knew Fred Burkhart, you see, so . . . we’re a little curious as to why his yacht is in Newport, given that Fred, well . . .”
Captain Jarvis spun around and set his sights on Everett. “You’re Mr. Everett Mulberry?”
“I am.”
Striding over to stand in front of Everett, Captain Jarvis inclined his head. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Mulberry, I had no idea who you were, and . . . may I just say that I’m very sorry about the loss of Fred and his wife.”
“Thank you,” Everett returned. “Because you’re aware of Fred’s passing, you must understand why I’m curious about the passengers aboard Fred’s yacht.”
“Since you’re actually the reason we’ve come to Newport, Mr. Mulberry, I feel no hesitation whatsoever in telling you I’ve been sailing Mr. Duncan Victor and his wife, Florence, around the world these past several months.” Captain Jarvis shook his head. “We, myself and the Victors, were quite distressed to learn of Mr. and Mrs. Burkhart’s untimely demise when we made port in Boston a few days ago.”
Everett frowned. “May I inquire as to why Mr. Victor was sailing around the world on Fred’s yacht?”
“There’s no mystery to that, Mr. Mulberry. Mr. Burkhart sent Mr. Victor off to meet with a variety of inventors, all of whom were trying to solicit funds from Mr. Burkhart, and Mr. Victor as well, for their inventions.”
The hair on the back of Everett’s neck stood up. “And . . . was this a normal occurrence, Fred sending his attorney off to peruse new inventions?”
Captain Jarvis shook his head. “I’d never taken Mr. Victor before, sir, but it’s my understanding that Mr. Burkhart had obligations at home which demanded his attention, thus the reasoning behind sending Mr. Victor in his stead.”
“And . . . where would I find Mr. Victor at the moment?”
“He and Mrs. Victor were going to dine at a place called the Newport Casino, but then I do believe they’re planning on seeking you out at Seaview Cottage.” Captain Jarvis smiled. “We got the directions for your cottage when we stopped at your house on Fifth Avenue before learning you were in Newport. I have to imagine Mr. and Mrs. Victor will show up at Seaview in an hour or two.”
Everett inclined his head. “Thank you, Captain Jarvis. You’ve been most helpful.”
Captain Jarvis inclined his head in return. “If I may say so yet again, Mr. Mulberry, I truly was sorry to learn about Mr. Burkhart. He was a good man, and if you don’t mind my asking, do you happen to know much about how he died?”
“He and Violet were in a buggy accident, but . . . didn’t Mr. Victor tell you that?”
“I’m afraid Mr. Victor doesn’t know many details surrounding Mr. Burkhart’s death, which is one of the reasons he’s here to speak with you.”
“I wonder what the other reasons are,” Millie said as she appeared by his side, obviously not content to stay put for long.
“I’ll be certain to ask Mr. Victor just that question once we track him down.” Taking her arm, he began walking back toward Lucetta.
“It was very nice meeting you, Miss Plum,” Captain Jarvis called after them. “I’ll be sure to look in on you the next time I’m at the theater.”
Everett felt the tension in Lucetta’s arm when he took hold of it, and didn’t miss the temper that clouded her eyes for the briefest of seconds before it disappeared. “I know that took a lot on your part, flirting with him like that, and do know that I appreciate it, Lucetta. Would it make you feel better if I offered to buy you a new frock . . . or hat . . . or whatever else you may desire?”
“I’m really not keen about the whole paying me for favors given, Everett,” Lucetta drawled. “But, if I ever truly need your help . . .”
“I’ll be there, no questions asked.”
Lucetta smiled, and this time it was a genuine one. “I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you for realizing I don’t like to flirt.”
“Lucetta’s a little sensitive about people drooling over her all the time because of her looks,” Millie said. “But it was very well done of you to realize she doesn’t care for flirting, Everett.” She patted his arm. “Very well done indeed.”
With his arm feeling rather warm where she’d patted him, and his heart feeling rather warm from her compliment, Everett reached the buggy and helped Millie into her seat before doing the same with Lucetta. Untying the reins, he climbed up on the seat and urged the horse into motion, steering it back on the road and toward the Newport Casino.
Silence settled over the buggy, broken only by the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, and before he realized it, the Casino loomed into view.
Millie let out a sigh. “I’m really not looking forward to going back in there again.”
“Why not?” Lucetta asked.
“Did I forget to mention to you that I played a little tennis here the first day we arrived in Newport, and . . . it didn’t exactly go well?”
“You played tennis . . . at the Newport Casino?”
“I did.”
“With Everett, I hope?”
“No, with Caroline and her friends, Gertrude and Nora. And I have to say, Nora Niesen is really rather lovely.”
“You played with ladies?”
“I’m not saying it was the brightest thing I’ve ever done, but . . . Caroline annoyed me.”
Lucetta caught E
verett’s eye. “If you haven’t figured this out, Millie’s really competitive, and you shouldn’t—as in ever—encourage her to play anything against ladies, unless it’s . . . cards . . . or knitting.”
“I don’t think you can play at knitting,” Millie said. “Besides, I don’t know how to knit.”
Grinning as he pulled the buggy to a stop, Everett handed the reins to the member of the Newport Casino staff who’d come running up to them. Climbing down, he turned and offered a hand to Millie, then to Lucetta, his grin widening when neither lady balked at having him assist them out of the buggy.
“We do know how to behave in public,” Millie whispered before she squared her shoulders, took his arm again, waited for Lucetta to the take the other, and then began moving forward.
Unfortunately, the closer they got to the Casino, the more Lucetta seemed to be dragging her feet.
“Is something the matter?” he asked when they ended up barely moving because she’d almost come to a complete stop.
Lucetta looked at the Casino and shrugged. “You know, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stroll in there on your arm. Perhaps I’ll just wander around to the back and take in the sights, or maybe I should just go back to the buggy.”
Everett tilted his head. “You’re not worried that I don’t want to be seen with you here, are you?”
Lucetta let out a huff. “Really, Everett, I was trying to give you a discreet way out of being seen with me, one that would allow you to retain your gentlemanliness, and . . . here you went and ruined it.”
“Am I really that shallow?”
When Lucetta and Millie exchanged a rather telling look, his mouth went slack. “You think I’m shallow?”
Millie patted his arm again. “You’re a gentleman of society, Everett. You’re bound to be a little . . . Well, I wouldn’t say you’re shallow, not exactly, but you are a bit of a snob, something I do think I’ve pointed out before. Having said that, Lucetta and I both know you’re not used to being seen in public with ladies like . . . us.”