A Dangerous Legacy

by Elizabeth Camden

  The trio left without leaving the stable boys a tip. Colin reached into his pocket and took care of it. This was probably the last time he would ever see Amelia, and she couldn’t even spare him a parting word.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  Colin headed straight to Lucy’s office. It was quite possibly the last place he should be visiting, but she was the only real friend he had in New York, and he didn’t want to be alone right now.

  As usual, the AP’s main office was alive with thousands of electronic clicks cascading through the air. Orderly rows of telegraph operators manned their stations like soldiers lined up for duty. None of them looked up as he wended his way toward Lucy’s station. He stood directly behind her and admired her posture, so ramrod straight, as she transcribed the message on her wire. He waited until she closed the connection and wrote the final words on her pad of paper.

  “Hello, Miss Drake.”

  She whirled around, and his heart tripped at the surprised delight in her eyes, but she regained her composure quickly.

  “Hello, London,” she said fondly. He had to stifle the impulse to haul her to her feet and sweep her into an embrace. The invisible thread that tied them together was electric and alive.

  It was too crowded in here to talk, and he just wanted to be alone with her. “Can I buy you lunch? I’m dying to find out what’s happening with your case.”

  Ten minutes later, they were downstairs in the building’s cafeteria. He had to appreciate the gusto with which she attacked her plate of pork tenderloins with currant jelly. He’d been unimpressed when he sawed into the pork, and even less so after his first bite. He set down his fork, having no interest in finishing the meal, which she found amusing.

  “You can be such a snob,” she teased. “Everything served in the cafeteria is ambrosia compared to what Nick and I have for dinner, which usually comes out of a can.”

  “Well, finish quickly and give me an update on the case. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m on tenterhooks over here.”

  She sighed. “I visited the police precinct on Monday, and the clerk told me Sergeant Palmer has turned the case over to the Secret Service. I haven’t been able to see him again. I wanted to pass on that Tom knows I’ve overheard his messages and is probably fabricating some kind of story to explain his behavior, and not to fall for it. The clerk keeps saying the sergeant is very busy and I should wait for him to contact me. Maybe it would help if you came with me?”

  Unlikely. His reputation had just taken quite a beating, and in the coming days it was going to get worse. Scandalous gossip tended to trigger plenty of speculation.

  “Did you have a chance to peruse the newspapers this morning?” he asked. “The gossip column was lively. Plenty of salacious details about a visiting baronet misbehaving in public.”

  She dropped her fork with a clatter. “No!” The horror mingled with sympathy on her face made him feel even worse. He tried to affect a nonchalant tone.

  “Miss Wooten was less than delighted with the story, as it alluded to her and hinted at a possible engagement. That’s all in the past now.”

  Lucy pushed back her plate, as though she had lost her appetite. She looked truly sorry on his behalf, which was exceedingly generous of her. “What happens now?” she asked, and his wayward thoughts took flight.

  You and I run off together. We head for the wilds of the Dakota territories and live like gypsies. We forget about responsibilities and live like we are the only two people in the world. Eat grapes straight off the vine; swim in the moonlight; dance until dawn.

  He said none of it.

  “I’ll find somebody else,” he finally replied. “New York is filled with young women who will bring a dowry along with them, and I’m afraid it is the primary criteria I need in a future wife.” He’d have to lower his sights a notch, but even with a dinged-up reputation, he still had plenty of opportunity here.

  It was hard to breathe with this crippling weight on his chest. He couldn’t summon up a smile or a spark of energy, and Lucy seemed equally demoralized.

  “And when shall the hunt for your next heiress begin?” she asked.

  “Soon. This weekend I suppose I shall make the rounds on the social circuit.”

  “But not today . . .” The way her sentence dangled was a warning that she was up to something.

  “Not today,” he confirmed, and a hint of a smile lightened her features.

  “Have you ever played hooky?” she asked.

  “What’s hooky?”

  “Going absent without leave. Checking out from the office early. Escaping for the day.”

  Recognition dawned. “In England we call it French leave.”

  Lucy laughed. “Shall we play French leave? You look like you could use an escape from this place, and for once we can have a few hours with a clean conscience. With no expectations of forever and no nagging guilt over heiresses or obligations to family responsibility. Just two people who want to steal some time together before the rest of the world takes us captive again.”

  He vaulted from the bench, abandoning their half-eaten lunches. She squealed in delight as he grabbed her arm and tugged her into a run toward the front door and out into a surprisingly cool June afternoon. They dashed to the nearest trolley stop.

  “What shall we do?” he asked eagerly. This afternoon was going to be their one and only chance to be together, and he wanted it to be perfect for her. “Suggest your wildest daydreams, and I shall make it happen. Shopping on the Ladies’ Mile? Fine dining at Delmonico’s? Perhaps a private tour of the Brooklyn Museum? I know the director and can make it happen.”

  A light breeze tugged at the tendrils framing her face as she smiled up at him. Once again he was bowled over by her fresh-faced beauty. “I think I’d just like an ordinary day in the park. I don’t want anything fancy. Just you.”

  Twenty minutes later, they wandered the trails of Central Park. They ate pretzels and fed the ducks on the pond. They tried to find the exact spot where they’d first met that snowy December night seven months earlier, when Colin stood half-frozen while she haggled over the price of chestnuts. Everything looked so different now, and after circling the pond twice, they couldn’t be certain where they’d first met. Lucy put her foot down next to a blooming hydrangea bush and declared this was the spot, and he should kiss her immediately. He obliged, then found another spot a few acres later he thought might be the actual place, which required another round of kisses.

  After a while they lay flat on their backs on Pilgrim Hill to stare at the cloud formations overhead.

  “What did you dream of when you were a little girl?” he asked.

  She laughed a little. “I wanted to grow up to be a great plumber.” His eyes widened in surprise, and she rolled onto her side to grin at him. “Nick was training to be a plumber, my father was a plumber, and my grandfather was legendary in the field, so of course I wanted to be a plumber. But as much as I adore the men down at the hog house, I don’t think they’d be ready to accept a woman working alongside them. I settled for telegraphy.”

  “Was it a better choice?” he asked.

  “Absolutely! What other job lets me hear news from all over the world before it even hits the newspapers? I love it, actually.”

  He did, too. And he loved everything about this day. For a few hours there were no shackles or obligations, and no pretenses. He didn’t have to disguise his emotions with Lucy or worry about revealing too much, for she already knew all his embarrassing secrets and didn’t care. He didn’t want this afternoon to end and kept careful watch on the shadows as they grew longer across the lawn. He traced patterns on the back of her hand.

  “We’ll need to head back soon,” she finally said.

  “Why?” he asked and managed to buy another lazy hour on the grass with her. As the sky darkened and it became impossible to linger any longer, they clasped hands and proceeded as slowly as possible toward Columbus Circle, where the park ended and the city began.
There was no more avoiding it.

  “This is it, then,” Lucy said, trying to smile through the sadness in her voice.

  “I suppose so.” His mouth turned down, and for the life of him, he couldn’t return her smile.

  “Come on, London,” she said with a nudge. “I need to see a little of that famous cool composure.”

  He shrugged helplessly. “I guess I’ve been in America too long.”

  They kissed like mad beneath the statue of Christopher Columbus. Pedestrians jostled them, and a couple of newsboys hooted, but they didn’t care. For these last final seconds, the rest of the world simply didn’t matter.

  Colin pulled back and gazed down at her face. She smiled with humor and affection blazing in her incomparable flashing eyes. This was it. This was exactly how he wanted to remember her for all time.

  “Good-bye, Lucy.”

  “Good-bye, Colin. Best of luck with everything.”

  Pulling away to walk toward his house was a physical ache he would never forget.

  Chapter

  Twenty

  Nick plunked the dish of chipped beef on the table in front of Lucy, and she was grateful the bowl didn’t shatter. He was still steaming mad at her for returning from the park so late, and he barely said a word to her as he slammed about the kitchen, opening the tin of meat and heating it for their dinner. Chipped beef in mushroom sauce was one of the better canned meals, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Parting from Colin for the final time was still too fresh. She poked at the chipped beef with the tines of her fork, wondering if she’d ever have an appetite again.

  The knock at the door startled them both, especially when an authoritative voice called out, “New York City Police.”

  Nick opened the door to a uniformed officer.

  “I’m looking for Lucy Drake,” he said.

  “That’s me.” She was disappointed it wasn’t Sergeant Palmer, but her dismay vanished with his next words.

  “Officer Garrett Wolfe,” the heavy-set man introduced himself. “You are wanted down at the precinct. Sergeant Palmer is back and anxious to interview you. He’s very interested in the report you made last week and needs to follow up.”

  Thank heavens! What a relief it would be to finally have the attention of someone who could get to the bottom of this. “He wants to meet with me now?”

  “Now. We’ve got a carriage downstairs that will take you straight over.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Nick said, already reaching for his jacket. Lucy abandoned her uneaten chipped beef on the table and followed Nick and the officer downstairs.

  An enclosed brougham carriage awaited them on the street. Another police officer was already on the driver’s box, his horse whip propped at his side.

  Officer Wolfe opened the door of the compact carriage, then turned to her. “We’re taking this old gent to the station to file a report about a burglary. There won’t be room for your brother.”

  A glance inside the carriage confirmed it. The dapper old gentleman was rail-thin and didn’t take up much room, but another burly police officer took up the rest of the bench. Once she and Officer Wolfe were aboard, it would be impossible to fit a fifth person in the compact carriage. But she didn’t want to leave without Nick.

  He didn’t want her to either. “I’ll go hire a hack from the livery,” Nick said. “It won’t even take five minutes. Wait for me.”

  Lucy glanced at Officer Wolfe, who nodded in agreement. The livery always had cabbies lined up for hire, and it would only take a few moments for Nick to join them, but Officer Wolfe seemed impatient. He grumbled as Nick darted through the pedestrians on the street to get to the cabbies. When Nick was a few blocks down, the officer grasped her elbow.

  “Let’s get you onboard. We can leave as soon as your brother gets back.”

  She’d much rather wait on the street than inside a warm carriage. Lucy tried to tug her arm away, but instead of releasing her, Officer Wolfe squeezed tighter and propelled her toward the carriage.

  “Let go of me,” she sputtered, trying to pull away. The officer shoved harder, and panic set in. He was fighting her, using all of his weight to force her inside the cramped carriage.

  “Nick!” she screamed. “Nick, help!”

  But she was already inside the carriage, and it started moving even as Officer Wolfe hung out the open door. She kept screaming, banging on the side of the carriage, anything to get away. A couple people on the street turned to look with curiosity, but no one intervened.

  The carriage door slammed shut, and Officer Wolfe’s bulk pressed her against the side of the carriage, making it impossible to thrash her way toward the only exit on the other side of him.

  “Just shut up, and you’ll be okay,” he growled.

  She doubted it. The carriage sped through the streets as it weaved around lumbering wagons and slow-moving street trolleys. The elderly man across from her made no comment, nor did he seem particularly surprised by Officer Wolfe’s aggressive actions. She scooted as far over on the bench as possible, glaring at the officer.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “Why are you doing this?” Although, heaven help her, she already knew. He’d probably been sent by the same people who’d suggested a “shooting accident” as a way to shut Colin up. Now they had her, and she had no prayer of overpowering these two brawny men.

  “I told you to shut up,” the man pretending to be a New York City police officer growled. Had Nick seen her being forced into the carriage? Or perhaps some of the bystanders would tell him what happened when he returned with a cab? It was her only hope.

  She turned to the elderly man across from her, who watched her through pale gray eyes that seemed oddly kind. He was familiar to her, but she couldn’t place him.

  “It’s going to be all right, my dear,” he soothed.

  “Have we met?”

  “Not formally,” he said in that cashmere voice. He gestured to the large man sitting next to him. “Officer Sneed and I are taking you someplace where you can be properly cared for. Where you can get the rest you’ve been needing.”

  Her heart nearly stopped, for she finally remembered him from that fancy dinner party at Oakmonte. He was the doctor in charge of the mental institution at Ridgemoor, and the hideous Mr. Sneed was his henchman.

  Fear caused a tremble to begin deep inside. Her hands turned icy as they curled into fists, and every instinct urged her to run, but she was trapped in a space so confined she could barely draw a breath. The carriage continued to bump, jolt, and zigzag through the streets.

  “You have no right to take me anywhere,” she said.

  A gentle spray of wrinkles fanned out from the old man’s eyes as he smiled and took a sheaf of papers from his coat pocket. “These papers are signed by your uncle, who believes you are a danger both to yourself and others. As your legal guardian, Thomas Drake has the ability to authorize your incarceration. Therefore, under the state law of New York, I am obligated to take you to a secure facility immediately.”

  “Thomas Drake isn’t my guardian,” she sputtered. Fear caused her voice to quake. “I’m not his ward, I’m not a danger to anybody, and I am not going to Ridgemoor.”

  She lunged for the door handle, but both henchmen shoved her back onto the bench. Their combined bulk probably amounted to four times her weight, and she was no challenge for them. But she had to get out of this carriage before being delivered to Ridgemoor.

  The carriage suddenly lurched sideways, dumping her against Officer Wolfe. Someone had jumped on the running board! The carriage window shattered as a brick smashed through it, followed by a hand reaching for the door handle.

  “Nick!” Lucy shouted.

  “Back off,” Wolfe yelled, pounding on Nick’s hand as he tried to twist open the latch. The door swung open, and Nick dangled from it at a dangerous angle as the carriage careened down the street. Wolfe lunged at him, knocking them both out of the carriage and sending them rolling across the street.


  “Jump, Lucy!”

  She didn’t hesitate. Her legs buckled at the impact, and she scraped her hands on the cobblestones, but she scrambled to her feet just in time to see Nick deliver a swift kick to Wolfe’s groin and make a getaway.

  “Run!” Nick yelled as he grabbed her hand and sprinted toward the sidewalk. They angled around two pushcarts and a vegetable stall. They had a head start, but Wolfe was gaining on them.

  “Stop them!” Wolfe shouted. “Thieves!”

  A fishmonger stepped away from his stall and moved into the center of the sidewalk, squatting low and stretching his arms wide to block them.

  “Split apart,” she told Nick.

  He obeyed. The fishmonger lunged for Nick as they ran past, but Nick made a flying leap over a rack of newspapers and evaded him. Lucy crashed into an applecart as they rounded the corner. She hadn’t meant to tip it over, but at least the apples scattered across the walkway would slow their pursuers.

  “Thieves!” Sneed bellowed. “Stop them in the name of the law!”

  A postman threw down his bag and made a grab for Nick, who barely escaped, but more onlookers had joined the chase.

  “Down the alley,” Nick panted. Everyone on the street was trying to stop them, but she and Nick had fear on their side as they dashed down the alley at a pace the bystanders couldn’t match. The alley was almost deserted, and she hiked up her skirts and ran after Nick.

  “They went that way,” someone shouted behind her. Everyone was helping Sneed and Wolfe, while she and Nick couldn’t look any guiltier as they fled like crooks. Nick cut across another alley and started tracking south again. Their pursuers were still a few blocks away, and Nick’s haphazard flight through the back alleys bought them a little lead time, but bystanders continued pointing their pursuers in the right direction.

  “Let’s head back to the main street,” Nick panted as he rounded a bend.