by Jen Turano
“You didn’t come up with that idea because of my past misdeeds, did you, dear?” Mrs. Davenport asked.
Edwina gave an airy wave of a hand, her only response to Mrs. Davenport’s question.
Narrowing her eyes, Mrs. Davenport tapped a finger against her chin. “I don’t believe your mother is going to be very keen about this latest development.”
“My mother’s always been a bit of an odd duck. I imagine she’ll be far keener about me becoming a detective rather than spending my days at events she believes are frivolous—no offense.”
“None taken,” Mrs. Davenport returned. “And while you may be correct in that your mother might not balk about this new idea, I highly doubt Harrison is going to readily accept it.”
Edwina’s lips curved. “I’m not planning on telling Harrison, and by the time he figures out what I’m up to, it’ll be too late.”
Gertrude tilted her head. “I don’t believe Harrison is as oblivious as you seem to believe, especially when it concerns his sisters.”
“How very astute of you to realize that, Gertrude, but I’m hoping he’ll be so consumed with trying to make matters right with you, he’ll neglect to notice me for a while.”
Before Gertrude could argue with that, even though the thought of Harrison making amends with her sent her heart pitter-pattering, Miss Mabel popped her head into the dining room.
“Oh good, here you are, Gertrude, but . . . where’s my sister?”
“Miss Henrietta took a carriage over to the Flowerdew residence. She wants Temperance to move out of her cousin’s house posthaste and get settled here before classes begin,” Gertrude said.
Miss Mabel stepped into the room and smiled. “It is lovely to see this old house filling up with delightful young ladies. I would have never imagined it would become a place of hope instead of the despair and secrets Henrietta and I endured for so long. However, enough about that maudlin time. I’ve just come from Rutherford & Company, having a small lull from managing the crowds in the tearoom, to deliver a message from Permilia.” She nodded to Gertrude. “Your friend would like to see you at the store at your earliest convenience, which I believe means within the next hour.”
“Did she say why she needs to see me?”
For a second, Miss Mabel looked somewhat shifty, but then she was smiling again. “I’m afraid not.”
“Ah, a trip to Rutherford & Company,” Mrs. Davenport exclaimed, distracting Gertrude from Miss Mabel’s now beaming face. “I adore that store, and how very convenient it’s only right down the block. It’s a lovely day for a stroll, so we don’t even need to call for a carriage.”
Miss Mabel stopped beaming, walked directly over to Mrs. Davenport, and shook her head. “Nice try, dear, but you’re still on probation from stores, and before you begin arguing, did I mention that I’ve brought by Miss Betsy Miller, designer extraordinaire, who might just happen to be down in the design room waiting to show you how to make paper patterns?”
“How marvelous,” Mrs. Davenport said, and after barely bidding good afternoon to Gertrude and Edwina, telling them to enjoy themselves at the store, Mrs. Davenport hurried out of the room with Miss Mabel.
“It was brilliant of Miss Henrietta and Miss Mabel to insist Mrs. Davenport allow them to take her in hand,” Edwina said. “As well as insist she move here for the foreseeable future. It’s only been two days, but she seems happier.” Edwina came and took hold of Gertrude’s arm. “Did I mention I’ve decided to help you with Harrison?”
Gertrude blinked at the rapid change of topic. “I don’t believe you mentioned a thing about that at all. But, if I need remind you, Harrison was quite forceful in his denial that he and I were involved in a relationship. Because of that, and because I truly don’t enjoy rejection from a man I might have held in high esteem, I’m going to simply accept the idea that Harrison and I are only meant to be friends.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“There’s no fun in that, but it’ll save me a world of hurt in the end.”
“But it won’t give you your very own happily-ever-after, something I can help you to achieve.”
Gertrude frowned. “How would you go about doing that?”
Pulling her toward the door, Edwina smiled. “I’ll tell you on the way to Rutherford & Company.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“Are you quite certain this is the best way to go about making amends with Gertrude?” Harrison asked, taking the reins from a groom in the Rutherford & Company stable as Asher nodded back at him from where he was already sitting astride his horse.
“Time is of the essence, Harrison,” Asher returned, waiting until Harrison swung himself into his saddle before continuing. “From what I understand, you’re now of the belief your affections for Gertrude have changed to something a great deal more than friendship. However, for a reason I have yet to comprehend, when you were presented with a prime opportunity to divulge your true emotions, you apparently lost all good sense and made a complete muddle of the situation instead.”
“I don’t know why you’re having a difficult time comprehending the idea I made a muddle of things. We’ve been friends for years, Asher, and because of that, you should be able to understand that I simply misinterpreted Gertrude’s facial expression.”
Asher arched a brow. “I’m not sure what type of expression a lady can actually make that would lead you to believe she wanted to be taken in hand by Miss Henrietta and Miss Mabel, two of the most frightening ladies I’ve ever met.”
“She was looking horrified.”
Asher’s other brow rose to join the first one. “Of course she was looking horrified. Ladies do not enjoy being placed in a position where the gentleman of their affections is put on the spot to declare his intentions.”
Harrison frowned. “Which does make perfect sense now that I consider it. However, you were not around to lend me such valuable insight, and as such, I blundered . . . badly.”
“I’m in full agreement with that, but now find myself curious as to how you managed to conclude you’d made a grave error.”
“I had an epiphany once I reached the high seas when I was sailing toward Boston to meet my father.”
“And it didn’t cross your mind to turn your ship around so you could make amends with Gertrude directly after you had this epiphany?”
“I’m afraid not. I needed to mull the matter through to satisfaction.”
Asher clicked his tongue, sending his horse into motion. “On my word, Harrison, you’ve grown up surrounded by women. Surely you know by now that it’s never a good idea to allow ladies any great amount of time to dwell on their disappointments. In all honesty, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Gertrude’s now decided you’re an idiot and that she’s better off without you.”
“Again, information that would have been useful before I landed myself in this mess.”
“We’ll get you out of this mess, one way or another, and—” Asher turned in the saddle—“we’ll also get to see if our theory is correct regarding over-the-top romantic gestures. As you know, I’ve compiled a list of just such gestures from some novels I had my secretary pick up for me at the bookseller. Why, I have to imagine if enacting a few of them allows you to get back in Gertrude’s graces, we’ll be held up as heroes to our gentlemen acquaintances, once word gets around about our success.”
Harrison steered Rupert after Asher and out of the stables, blinking as bright sunshine practically blinded him. “I don’t remember agreeing to share our results, Asher.”
“It would be selfish of us not to if we do, hopefully, succeed.” He lifted his face to the sun. “I can feel success within our grasp, and I’m going to take it as a positive sign that it’s stopped raining, although we did need that rain in order for you to enact number two on the list I created.”
Digging his hand into his pocket, Harrison fished out his copy of the list. Written across the top in Asher’s fine hand was Romantic Gestur
es to Win Gertrude’s Heart.
Scanning the page, he frowned. “Number two suggests I place my jacket over a puddle and then encourage Gertrude to walk over that jacket.” He gestured to his jacket. “Did you not hear me when I mentioned I only recently picked up this jacket on an obscure island, drawn to it because I think the color suits almost every pair of trousers I own?”
“You should have left the jacket on that island because it’s the most lurid shade of green I’ve ever seen, and I doubt it suits a single pair of your trousers.”
“I thought the jacket was slightly orange.”
“How many shades of orange do you think are out there?”
“Obviously too many, but . . .” Harrison returned his attention to the list. “What if we’re completely off the mark and Gertrude decides I’ve taken leave of my senses?”
“You took leave of your senses when you didn’t declare yourself and the affection you hold for her at Grace Church. However, because you told me she seemed to enjoy you sweeping her up into your arms the night of my engagement celebration, I think romantic gestures are the best place to start for you. Besides, this was the only thing I could come up with on such short notice.”
“I suppose it can’t make the situation worse.”
“That’s the spirit! So onward we go. Miss Mabel has had plenty of time to deliver Permilia’s request. That means you need to ride Rupert past Miss Snook’s school, then wait until Gertrude’s moving down the sidewalk before you whisk her right up on your horse, delivering her to Rutherford & Company in style. I’ll keep an eye on the situation from afar, and if I think you’re floundering, I’ll ride to your rescue.”
Harrison glanced down Broadway, blowing out a breath when he noticed how crowded the street was. “I don’t know, Asher, perhaps I should leave the whisking her up on my horse for another day. If you’ll recall, I mentioned my concerns about that gesture. There’s every chance she’ll have a different reaction than we’re expecting, one that won’t leave her feeling overly fond of me. Besides, the only whisking scenes I’ve read are centered around the heroine’s life being in danger because of bandits or an approaching train. It seems somewhat odd to use this particular gesture when Gertrude’s life isn’t in danger since she’s simply walking to your store.”
“I’ve found seven instances of the hero whisking the heroine up onto his horse in those novels. In every one of them, the heroine was suitably impressed by the masculinity displayed by the hero because of the strength it takes to pluck a woman from the ground and get her situated just so on a horse.” Asher smiled. “Because you’re an expert rider, there’s no question in my mind that you’ll be able to accomplish this feat with great skill, suitably impressing Gertrude in the process. Why, I’ll bet she’ll be so impressed, there won’t be a need to make use of the other suggestions on the list.” With that, Asher spurred his horse forward, leaving Harrison trailing after him. Gesturing him forward a short time later, Asher pulled his horse to the side of the street and sent Harrison a nod.
Realizing there was nothing to do but see if this harebrained idea might work, Harrison urged his horse forward, keeping hidden behind all the carriages on the street until he’d passed Miss Snook’s school. Turning Rupert around, he blinked when he saw Gertrude a little ways down the sidewalk, the cream-colored walking dress she was wearing accenting her charming figure to perfection. Taking a deep breath, and not allowing himself time to reconsider what might very well be yet another blunder, he set Rupert into a gallop, coming up behind Gertrude far quicker than he’d anticipated. Leaning over Rupert’s side, he reached out, then almost pulled back when he noticed Gertrude was not alone but with his sister, and . . . they’d entwined their arms together.
Before he could fully grasp what that meant, his hand closed around Gertrude’s arm, and then she was flying up in the air in front of him and onto his horse, her legs flailing about as she began to scream at the top of her lungs.
Unfortunately, Rupert was not a horse possessed of a mild manner, so the second the screams began—and an unexpected weight landed on him—he was off like a shot.
Turning his head when Gertrude’s hat flew by, Harrison spotted Edwina sitting on the sidewalk, apparently having been knocked to the ground when he snatched Gertrude. Unable to do anything about that troublesome situation because Rupert was galloping faster than ever, Harrison tightened his grip on Gertrude, who was screaming so loudly his ears were beginning to ring.
She was also practically falling off his horse with her skirt flying every which way, exposing a good deal of petticoats and a nicely turned feminine leg in the process.
Calling himself every type of fool, he pressed his knees into Rupert, but instead of having the desired effect of bringing Rupert to a stop, the horse continued bolting down the street, causing people who’d been trying to cross the street to leap out of their way.
Wincing when a gentleman dove onto the sidewalk, losing his hat in the process, one that Rupert then trampled under his very large hooves, Harrison shouted an apology right as the sound of someone blowing a whistle met his ears. Glancing over his shoulder, Harrison didn’t know whether to laugh or groan when he recognized none other than Agent McParland racing after them.
“I think I’m going to be sick!” Gertrude yelled.
Harrison immediately tried to reassure her they’d be stopping soon, but her hair was now coming undone from its pins and the long strands were whipping him in the face, making it next to impossible to speak or to see much, for that matter.
All he could do was keep a tight hold on Gertrude and pray that his stallion would become winded before they reached the next state.
It took three complete blocks before Rupert began to slow, and then, when he finally stopped, Harrison could not think of a single thing to say to the woman who shoved her hair out of her eyes, struggled upright, turned the upper half of her body toward him, then pinned him with a furious glare.
“Harrison! Good heavens, it’s you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Have you taken leave of your senses? What could you have been thinking, abducting me like that?”
Disappointment slid through him. “You only now realized it was me?”
Her eyes narrowed another fraction. “How could I have known it was you before this very moment? We were traveling at breakneck speed, and far be it from me to point out the obvious, but my skirt was practically flying over my head, making it somewhat difficult to see. Add in that you caught me completely unaware, and . . . no, I didn’t realize it was you.”
He summoned up a smile, hoping it was the one he’d heard ladies found charming. Unfortunately, it did absolutely nothing to diminish the fury in Gertrude’s eyes. “May I assume you’re not even a smidgen impressed by how I was able to accomplish the feat of getting you up on my horse?”
“You almost killed me in the process, so if you’re ever planning on trying this particular feat again, you might want to practice—and not with a living lady as your subject.”
“I thought you might enjoy arriving at Rutherford & Company in . . . what was that again . . . oh yes . . . style.”
“I enjoy arriving at fine stores in one piece, thank you very much, but now, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother, you need to get me off this horse.”
Harrison frowned. “I’m not certain how to go about that safely.”
“Because my safety is obviously such a concern for you today.”
Before he could reply to that telling statement, the sound of horse hooves sounded behind them.
“I say, Miss Cadwalader, are you quite all right?”
Turning his head because there really wasn’t anything else for him to do, Harrison found Agent McParland drawing his horse to a stop directly beside them. There appeared to be a touch of satisfaction in his eyes—the reason for that becoming clear when Harrison realized Edwina was sitting securely behind Agent McParland, her arm wrapped around the man’s waist. She was smiling in clear satisfaction as well, even though sh
e did scowl at him for just a second and roll her eyes.
“You’re supposed to pull a lady up and then behind you,” she whispered in a voice that still carried. “Which you would know if you applied yourself more diligently to those novels you pretend you don’t read, although given this disaster, you’ve clearly been skimming your way through them.”
Gertrude leaned over him to look at Edwina. “What novels?”
Edwina opened her mouth, but then closed it again, shaking her head. “You’ll have to ask Harrison, Gertrude. I may be annoyed with him, but we do share a sibling bond, one that prevents me from exposing all his secrets.”
Gertrude returned her attention to him. “What novels?”
To Harrison’s relief, Asher suddenly galloped into view, his hair distinctly disheveled, and his expression relieved once he caught sight of them. Pulling his horse to a stop, he got to the ground and moved to Rupert’s side. “That didn’t go quite as planned, but allow me to help you down, Gertrude.”
“How did it not go as planned?” Gertrude demanded. “And what exactly were the two of you planning in the first place?”
“That’s a little difficult to explain,” Asher said. “But if you would be so kind as to give me your hand, we can then continue our conversation when you’re safely on the ground.”
Sticking her hand out, even though she seemed to do so somewhat grudgingly, Gertrude slid less than gracefully from his horse. Thanking Asher, she stalked a good five feet away from Rupert, probably because Rupert was now tossing his head and pawing at the ground.