by Jen Turano
“Were there actually any spots on your face last night?”
Agatha ignored the question. “I was even able to attend church this morning, since I was spot free, although I hardly found an opportunity to become uplifted by the sermon, because Father scowled at me the entire time.”
“He was most likely scowling at you because he wanted you to entertain Mr. Beckett last night.”
“Father would love nothing more than to see me married to the man,” Agatha said as she took a seat on Eliza’s bed before she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her.
“You have an issue with Mr. Beckett?” Eliza asked.
“Not really. The man is fascinating and extremely handsome.”
A touch of something that felt almost like disgruntlement sliced through Eliza. “If you’re so intrigued with the gentleman, why would you refuse to attend the dinner?”
“I didn’t say I was intrigued with him,” Agatha corrected before her gaze turned crafty. “Did you find him intriguing?”
“Of course not.”
Agatha frowned. “That is unfortunate. I thought the two of you might suit, although there is his brooding nature to consider.”
“He didn’t appear brooding to me,” Eliza said before she snapped her mouth shut when Agatha sent her a knowing smile. She cleared her throat. “Why do you find him brooding?”
Agatha shrugged. “If truth be told, he has every reason to brood. His wife died over two years ago, leaving him with two slightly difficult children. Then, there have been rumors swirling around town that someone is out to ruin his railroading company, and finally, his mother has put it about that he’s in desperate need of a new wife, which has every society miss following him everywhere. From what I’ve heard, he hasn’t been amused.”
“He was fairly amusing last night at dinner,” Eliza said. “I must say he and his brother kept me well entertained.”
“Zayne was there?” Agatha asked with a note of what sounded like disappointment in her voice.
Eliza eyed Agatha for a moment. “This certainly explains your lack of interest in Mr. Hamilton Beckett or any of the other gentlemen your parents have selected for you. Although, to give your mother credit, the minister she brought in to say the blessing last night was remarkably handsome and seemed to be a rather pleasant sort.”
“Reverend Fraser is a divine-looking gentleman, but alas, he’s set his sights on Miss Julie Hampton.”
“You don’t seem overly distressed by that,” Eliza said.
“Although I am a woman of strong faith, it was never my dream to marry a man of the cloth. I would hardly be an appropriate role model, considering I have a tendency to get into mischief.”
“You also seem to have a tendency to switch uncomfortable subjects with remarkable ease,” Eliza said. “We were discussing Mr. Zayne Beckett.”
“I’m certain I have nothing more to say regarding the gentleman.”
“You hold him in affection,” Eliza said.
“That’s completely beside the point,” Agatha muttered, “and that’s not what we were discussing at all. To refresh your memory, we were talking about the brooding Mr. Hamilton Beckett.”
“And I said he was hardly brooding last night,” Eliza said. “I find myself curious, though, as to why Mr. Beckett is annoyed with his mother’s efforts to find him a suitable wife. May I assume he was so in love with his first wife that he can’t bear the thought of marriage to another woman?”
“I don’t believe he was in love with Mary Ellen,” Agatha said. “She was beautiful, and I would imagine he might have thought himself in love with her at first, but—” she lowered her voice—“she was giving attention to gentlemen other than Hamilton while they were married.”
“How in the world did you discover that information?” Eliza asked.
Agatha began toying with the edge of the bedcover. “I’ve always been observant. In fact, my life’s ambition is to become a journalist and write about the observations I make.”
“Are your parents aware of this ambition?”
“I’m afraid I have yet to mention it to them, although, considering I sent an article to the New York Tribune two weeks ago, I might need to get around to broaching the subject, especially if my story is accepted.”
“And you believe your father will readily embrace the sight of his daughter’s name in print?” Eliza asked.
“I wouldn’t write under my real name,” Agatha said. “I chose Polly Ponders as my pen name because I certainly didn’t want to draw undue attention to myself, considering my first article deals with the deplorable conditions in the clothing mills. Do you have any idea how nasty the men are who own those places?”
“You’ve been visiting the clothing mills?”
“It would be best if I didn’t answer that,” Agatha said before she scooted farther back on the bed, stuffed a pillow behind her, and frowned. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“This should be good.”
“Now, there’s no need to take that tone,” Agatha admonished. “We are of a like age and should try to be friends.”
“I can’t imagine your parents would approve of your forming a friendship with the governess.”
“As we’ve already discussed, you’re not a governess, nor do I believe you’ll be with us long, so that isn’t an issue.”
“Why would you want to pursue a friendship with me?” Eliza asked.
“You’re obviously an interesting woman, and I thought it would be nice to have someone to confide in, seeing as how I’ve only recently returned from boarding school and find myself at loose ends, with none of my friends left here in town.”
Eliza smiled as she thought how lovely it would be to have a friend. All of the ladies she’d believed were her friends back in London had presented her with their backs the moment whispers of the scandal began to swirl. Her smile widened. “I would be honored to become better acquainted with you.”
Agatha grinned. “Wonderful.”
“I believe you mentioned you’ve been meaning to ask me something?”
“Indeed,” Agatha said. “This morning, after I rescued your stray bindings, I tried to track you down to relieve your mind, but you weren’t in attendance at church today. That’s when I realized I’ve never noticed you at church on any given Sunday.”
“Truth be told, I’m not in accord with God at this particular point in my life.”
At Agatha’s confused look, Eliza allowed a brittle laugh to escape. “If you must know, Miss Watson, in the span of a year and a half, I lost my father, my fiancé, and my fortune, which made me quite aware of the fact that God rarely bothers to listen to prayers and certainly doesn’t grant the requests made.”
“You lost your father and your fiancé? Did they die in some tragic accident?”
She really needed to be more careful with what she let slip. “My father died of a long illness, and I prefer not to speak of my ex-fiancé, as the gentleman turned out to be nothing but a cad.”
“I see,” Agatha said slowly before she nodded. “That’s why you’ve come to America. You’re searching for your missing fiancé.”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “He’s most likely still in London, searching for another heiress. Obviously he was more enthralled with my fortune than he was with me, and when it went missing, well, he did the same.”
“How does one’s fortune go missing?”
“Mine went missing because my family trusted a rather cunning man of affairs, Miss Watson.”
“Please, call me Agatha.”
“Very well, Agatha. You may call me Eliza, but only when we’re alone.” Eliza shot a glance to the window, frowning when she noticed the darkness. “Now, I do so hate to break up our little chat, but it’s getting late.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Not at all, I’m simply telling you I need to retire for the evening, since I need to be well rested to deal with your sisters.”
“Very
prettily said,” Agatha grouched as she rose from the bed, “but you’re still kicking me out.”
Eliza went to the door and held it open, unable to hide her grin.
“I have more questions for you,” Agatha warned as she quit the room.
“I’m certain you do,” Eliza replied before she shut the door, her thoughts immediately going to the plan she was determined to carry out—a plan she was unwilling and unable to share with Agatha.
4
Thirty minutes later, Eliza stole down the hallway, her boots in her hand, trying to be as quiet as possible. She tiptoed down the back stairs and slipped out the door, hurrying over to a garden bench, where she sat down and quickly laced up her boots.
She stood and twitched her dark skirt into place before she set her sights on the far side of the garden, moving across the lawn as stealthily as possible before struggling through a bothersome row of hedges which, thankfully, led her to a back alley. She headed for the main street and lingered for a moment in the shadows in order to allow a group of people to pass.
“Are you lost?”
Eliza bit back a scream and, with a hand to her throat, glared at Agatha, who, for some unknown reason, was standing right behind her. “What are you doing?”
“Following you,” Agatha said.
Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“It’s obvious you’re up to something. I thought I’d offer you my assistance.”
“That is out of the question. You have no idea where I’m going or what I’m about to do. For all you know, I could be a mass murderer intent on finding my next victim, which just might happen to be you, seeing as you’re convenient.”
“Good thing I have my trusty pistol with me, then,” Agatha said as she lifted her hand and revealed a gun.
“Put that away,” Eliza hissed. “You could hurt yourself.”
Agatha stuffed the pistol into her pocket. “Don’t tell me you’re not armed.”
“Where, pray tell, would I have been able to procure a pistol?”
“I got this one from a fellow on Thirty-Second Street.”
“Of course you did,” Eliza muttered. “This is a very bad idea.”
“I look at it as a great opportunity to expand my investigating skills,” Agatha said.
“This is not a game. There’s danger involved.”
“You know,” Agatha replied, ignoring Eliza’s statement, “I might have been mistaken regarding your suitability for Mr. Beckett. I can’t imagine him embarking on an adventure like this, nor do I believe he’d appreciate a woman with such a daring nature.”
“I don’t have a daring nature, and I don’t wish for an association with Mr. Beckett.”
Agatha began whistling under her breath.
“Listen, I know you may find this exciting, but I must plead with you to return home,” Eliza said. “I’m not a woman prone to an adventurous way of living; I simply have no choice in this matter.”
“Perhaps if you explained the situation, I would be better equipped to decide if I should get involved.”
“It’s not your concern.”
“I thought you said we could be friends.”
“I would never request assistance in what I’m about to do from one of my friends. I could very well end up in jail tonight.”
“I wasn’t aware you were prone to dramatics, Eliza.”
Eliza took a deep breath and counted to ten. “I am not prone to dramatics, Miss Watson.”
“Agatha,” she corrected.
“For tonight, you are Miss Watson and I am Miss Sumner, your family’s governess. Now I must insist you leave me here and return home.”
Agatha folded her arms across her chest and began tapping her foot against the cobblestones.
“You are exceedingly annoying,” Eliza huffed.
“Thank you.”
“It was not a compliment.”
Agatha grinned. “Where are we going?”
Eliza blew out a breath and edged into the street, Agatha sticking remarkably close to her side as if she feared Eliza would suddenly bolt away and leave her behind. “I’m heading to Park Avenue,” she finally admitted.
“Why do you want to go there?”
“Is that a note of disappointment I detect in your voice?”
“The danger level of our excursion has diminished considerably.”
Honestly, the woman was apparently a bit deranged. Eliza slowed her pace and glanced at Agatha. “I do believe breaking into a house constitutes danger.”
“We’re going to break into a house?” Agatha asked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“No, I’m going to break into a house. You’re relegated to standing watch.”
“That’s hardly fun,” Agatha said.
“I didn’t promise you fun,” Eliza replied, increasing her stride, only to come to an abrupt stop when Agatha tugged on her arm. “What?”
“If our destination is Park Avenue, you’re going the wrong way.”
“Oh,” Eliza said, spinning on her heel and heading in the opposite direction.
Agatha suddenly gave a shrill whistle, causing Eliza to pause and turn as a hired carriage rumbled to a stop a few feet away from her.
“Come on,” Agatha called as she hurried to the carriage, opened the door, and jumped in.
Eliza followed and plopped down on the seat. “I don’t have funds readily available for such a luxury.”
“Hiring a carriage is hardly a luxury, and I assure you I have more than enough funds available to cover the cost.”
“I don’t accept charity,” Eliza muttered.
“It’s not charity when I’ve foisted myself on you.”
“True,” Eliza agreed, relaxing as she settled into the seat.
Agatha leaned out the window. “Park Avenue, if you please.” She pulled her head in as the carriage began to move. “So, tell me exactly what we’re about to do. Are we intent on robbing someone?”
“I’m not a thief,” Eliza said. “I never said anything about robbing a house, especially since what I’m after is already mine.”
“You’re going after your fortune,” Agatha said with a nod. “Are we looking for your missing fiancé as well?”
“You’re forgetting our last conversation. It was not my ex-fiancé who stole my fortune; it was my father’s man of affairs, Mr. Hayes. My ex-fiancé wouldn’t have sullied his hands with something as common as theft. He’s more the type who would hire someone to do his dirty work.”
“He doesn’t sound very appealing.”
“He’s not, but London society caters to his every whim, given the fact that he bears an old title and has vast holdings.”
Agatha’s eyes widened. “You’re more than simply Miss Sumner, aren’t you?”
Seeing no point in denying the truth, Eliza nodded. “My father was the Earl of Sefton, and as the daughter of an earl, I hold an honorary title. My formal address is Lady Eliza Sumner.”
“Why isn’t it Lady Eliza Sefton?” Agatha asked.
“Sefton denotes our estate, whereas Sumner is our surname. Honorary titles use a person’s surname.”
“You have an estate?”
“Unfortunately, no, I do not. England has very strict laws regarding entailments, and my father’s estates and his title went to my distant cousin.”
“You’re an only child?”
“I am now. My brother is deceased; hence, a distant relation inherited the lands.”
Agatha looked out the window for a moment and then turned her head, a frown marring her beautiful face. “Why didn’t you just let it be known you were an aristocrat the moment you stepped foot in New York? Everyone would have fallen all over you, fortune or no fortune, and you wouldn’t have had to seek out employment. There are more than enough people in town who would have loved to extend you hospitality.”
“I never had any intention of entering New York society. My only purpose in this country is to recover my fortune and then return to England to re
store my father’s good name.”
“Recovering your fortune will accomplish that?”
“Money does wonders, although I have been wondering how I will deal with all of my so-called friends who gave me the cut direct once my money went missing and Mr. Hayes spread dreadful rumors around town regarding my family,” Eliza said. “I’m hopeful I’ll be able to graciously accept their apologies, but quite honestly, I’m not certain I have it in me.” She glanced out the window. “Oh look, I think we’re almost there.” She tapped on the roof, which caused the carriage to grind to a stop before she jumped out with Agatha right behind her.
Agatha handed the driver his fare before she blinked. “Why did you have him let us off in front of a shop?”
“I thought it would be less suspicious,” Eliza said.
“Yes, because there’s nothing suspicious about two women lingering around a shop in the middle of the night,” Agatha said.
Eliza grinned, took Agatha by the arm, and steered her up the street, coming to a sudden stop, which caused Agatha to stumble against her. “Sorry, I should have warned you,” she said before nodding toward the other side of the street. “There it is.”
Agatha began to sputter. “We’re going to break into Lord Southmoor’s home?”
“You’re acquainted with him?”
“Hardly, but Mother pointed out this house last week. She has high expectations of being invited here one day.”
“Yes, well, as the gentleman in question is a fraud, I hope she won’t be too disappointed if she doesn’t receive an invitation to one of his dinners. My fondest desire is to see the man residing behind bars soon because, you see, Lord Southmoor is actually Mr. Bartholomew Hayes, my father’s old man of affairs.”
“Are you certain?” Agatha asked.
Eliza nodded. “Absolutely, and to top matters off nicely, his wife used to be my governess.”
“Good heavens,” Agatha whispered.
“Indeed. It’s my hope to find evidence of their deceit or better yet, my fortune.”
“And you believe your fortune is what, stashed under the mattresses?”
“Of course not. I’m certain a large amount of my fortune is currently residing in a bank. However, I received interesting information while I was still in London concerning the rather large chest Mr. Hayes had in his possession when he left England. I was told it took four men to get this chest on board the boat, and Mr. Hayes would not allow it out of his sight. I have since come to the conclusion that Mr. Hayes most likely converted some of my fortune to cash and perhaps gold, and that is what I’m looking for tonight.”