by Jen Turano
“But . . . you just said it took four men to carry that chest.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“This is a bad idea,” Agatha muttered.
“I told you that from the start, and there is still plenty of time for you to change your mind and return home.”
“I have never backed down from a challenging situation before, and I don’t intend to start now,” Agatha said as she lifted her chin, sent Eliza a glare, and then began stomping her way across the street.
“We have to go around to the other side, where I spotted an open window earlier today,” Eliza said, catching up to Agatha and taking a firm hold on her arm to slow her down. She steered her to the right and grinned. “You might want to work on the whole subtle aspect of your demeanor if you truly plan on pursuing a career in journalism.”
Agatha’s steps slowed to a mere crawl. “Better?”
“Hardly, but now is not the moment to squabble with you,” Eliza said as she stepped around a gentleman who was standing in the street, gawking at Lord Southmoor’s home. She couldn’t say she blamed him. It was a most spectacular building, purchased with her funds, of course. Her jaw clenched and she tightened her grip on Agatha’s arm, causing her new friend to emit a yelp.
“Is something the matter?” Agatha asked as she shook out of Eliza’s hold and rubbed her arm.
“Nerves must be getting to me,” Eliza muttered as they reached the sidewalk. She turned to Agatha. “This is the tricky part. We need to slip through the side yard without being detected, and then there’s a low wall we’ll have to jump over that will lead us straight into the garden. I’ll go first, and you follow me in a minute.”
“Why do you get to go first?” Agatha grouched.
Eliza ignored Agatha’s complaint and hurried into the shadows, locating the stone wall within a few seconds and making short shrift of jumping over it. She turned when Agatha slipped up beside her. “I don’t think you waited the full minute.”
“I was afraid you’d break in without me,” Agatha said with an innocent smile.
“You still have time to turn back.”
“Not on your life.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Eliza said before she moved up to the house and pushed on the window she’d noticed earlier. To her relief, it opened at her slightest touch, and to her further relief, the room they were about to enter was dark, the only source of light coming from the moon. She took a deep breath and pulled herself over the sill, landing lightly on the floor. She moved out of the way and waited as Agatha’s head appeared above the sill and then her body dropped from the window and plopped on the floor with a thud. Every muscle in her body froze as she cocked an ear and listened for any sound of people in the house, people who might have heard Agatha’s less than graceful fall from the window.
The only sound was that of Agatha struggling to get off the floor.
“Sorry about that,” Agatha whispered as she finally found her feet and pushed her skirt down. “By the way, you might have told me you were planning on wearing trousers under your skirt tonight. I would have done the same.”
“As you weren’t supposed to be with me tonight in the first place, you can’t chastise me for not informing you of what I was wearing. Now, where should we start our search?”
“If I were attempting to hide a chest filled with treasure, I’d hide it on the second floor, seeing as it would be harder to steal from up there,” Agatha said. “What are we going to do if we run into anyone, namely Mr. Hayes or that old governess of yours?”
“They’re attending a dinner party hosted by some fellow named Eugene.”
“Have you given any thought to the servants?” Agatha asked.
“I did give them a thought, especially after your fall, but since no one came shouting an alarm, I would have to believe the servants have either retired for the evening in their quarters or have left the house in search of their own frivolity. Honestly, Agatha, everyone knows servants can rarely be found when their employers are gone for the night.”
“It would add a dash of excitement if we were discovered,” Agatha muttered.
“There’s that disappointment again,” Eliza said, surprised to feel a bubble of amusement tickle her throat. “Come on, we’d best get this over with before we are discovered.”
She slipped out into a hallway and glanced around, the darkness making it difficult to find the stairs. “You’d think with the amount of money Bartholomew stole from me, he’d leave a few lamps lit,” Eliza grumbled as she tripped over a small statue, righted it before it fell, and then felt what seemed to be a railing right past the statue. She moved to it and smiled. “I found the stairs,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Agatha’s hand in order to pull her up the steps behind her. She stopped at the top. “Which way should we go?”
“I say we try every door and split up in order to cover more ground.”
“Good thinking,” Eliza whispered before she dropped Agatha’s hand and moved forward, keeping her hands in front of her to aid her balance. She finally managed to locate a door and was just about to open it when Agatha let out a soft whistle.
“I found something over here,” Agatha whispered.
“Over where?”
“Just follow my voice.”
Thankfully, Agatha was opening the door wider and a sliver of moonlight flooded out, lighting Eliza’s way. She moved into the room and shut the door, her gaze traveling over a large desk, rows of books lining the walls, and . . . she blinked and then blinked again.
There was a large chest sitting bold as brass right in the middle of the room.
Surely it was not going to be this easy, was it?
“Eliza,” Agatha hissed before Eliza could take a single step toward the chest, “someone’s been here before us.”
“What?”
“Shh,” Agatha said as a loud thump came to them from the other room. “I think they might still be here.”
“Come on,” Eliza said, her heart thudding wildly. The moon chose that moment to disappear beneath a cloud, and the room went pitch-black. She made her way toward the door, lurched into a table she didn’t see, and froze as the table crashed to the ground.
“Run,” Agatha squealed.
Eliza needed no second urgings. She jumped over the table and raced for the door, but before she could do more than open it, a strong arm encircled her waist as a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.
“Be quiet.”
Eliza’s mouth would have dropped open in surprise if a hand hadn’t been pressed over it. She relaxed and the hand moved away.
“Mr. Beckett?” she whispered, knowing the answer before he had a chance to reply. The hair on her arm was standing straight up, an odd occurrence which had also happened the last time she was in Mr. Beckett’s presence.
“Miss Sumner?” Hamilton asked as his hand fell from her waist.
A match hissed and dim light filled the room.
“Mr. Beckett,” Agatha exclaimed.
“Miss Watson?” Zayne questioned as he shut the door before his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Agatha returned.
Eliza suddenly found herself pinned under Zayne’s glare. “I don’t understand what could have possessed you to involve your charge in this madness. Breaking and entering is against the law,” he snapped.
Before Eliza could respond, Agatha marched up to Zayne and swatted him on the arm, causing him to drop the match. The room plunged into darkness.
“I am not a ‘charge’ of Miss Sumner,” Agatha growled. “I have not had a governess in years, and as for us breaking the law, well, the pot really shouldn’t call the kettle black.”
Zayne struck another match and stepped closer to Agatha. “Didn’t you just make your debut?”
“Three years ago,” Agatha snapped.
“While Miss Watson’s age is certainly of some concern,” Hamilton said, “
there are more pressing matters to discuss. I insist the two of you explain what you’re doing here.”
“I don’t believe you’re in a position to insist on anything,” Eliza replied.
“I disagree,” Hamilton said. “My brother and I are here on a personal matter, which begs the question whether you’re involved in what we’re investigating.”
“I can assure you we’re not,” Eliza returned. “Now, as we have limited time left to us, I really must get back to the business at hand.”
“And what business is that?” Hamilton asked.
Eliza ignored him and returned to the chest.
“There’s nothing in there except books,” Zayne said as the match sputtered out and the room returned to darkness.
Disappointment washed over her. “Did you happen to notice another chest?”
“I can’t say I did,” Zayne said.
“Eliza, we’ll have to try somewhere else,” Agatha said as she stumbled forward and grabbed on to Eliza’s arm to steady herself.
Eliza walked carefully out of the room, using her hand against the hall wall to guide her way. She felt the molding of a door and fumbled for the knob, turning it quickly and pushing it open before she pulled Agatha into the room. Thankfully, this particular room did not have a curtain over the window and the moon was cooperating, giving them more light.
“This looks like the master suite,” Eliza said. “I’m going to check the dressing room.” She strode across the room and pulled open the dressing room door. “There’s another chest.”
“What did you find?”
Eliza jumped and then released a breath when she realized it was only Zayne, apparently without any more matches at his disposal, standing behind her. The hair on her arm remained flat, and she found it very curious indeed that she only seemed to experience that unusual sensation when Hamilton was around.
“Grab the end and pull this chest out for us,” she said, taking a step back.
“You want me to help you rob Lord Southmoor?” Zayne asked.
“As what hopefully resides in that chest is mine to begin with, it’s hardly robbery.”
“What do you mean, Miss Sumner?” Hamilton asked as he melted out of the darkest part of the room and sent what she knew was a glare in her direction.
The hair on Eliza’s arm stood to immediate attention.
“Shh,” Agatha hissed. “I hear someone.”
Eliza stood frozen in place as she heard the sound of feet climbing up the stairs. A flicker of light shone under the door and then traveled past.
“We need to get out of here,” Hamilton whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere without that chest . . .” Eliza said, her voice trailing off when someone suddenly raced down the hallway on pounding feet. Seconds later the sound of shouting reached her ears.
“Come on,” Hamilton ordered, grabbing Eliza’s hand and propelling her to the door.
“Not without my chest,” Eliza snapped, swallowing a gasp when Hamilton dropped her hand, picked her up, and slung her across his shoulder. She couldn’t get another word out of her mouth as he ran out of the room and down the hallway, her head banging against his back as he bolted down the stairs. He hit the ground floor and rushed into the first available room, dropping her abruptly as he moved to a window and threw it open. He gestured for Eliza to join him before the shrill sound of a whistle drifted to them on the breeze.
“It’s the police. Hurry,” he said, taking her by the arm and pushing her through the window.
Her skirt snagged on the windowsill and she felt a flash of irritation as she tumbled out the window, leaving her garment behind. She scrambled out of the way as Agatha came hurtling through the air, landing with a soft oof beside her. A loud crash had her turning back to the window.
“What happened?” Eliza called.
“Zayne fell, but I’ll get him,” Hamilton called back. “Don’t wait for us. Climb over that stone wall past that big tree. Our horses are there, and we’ll join you shortly.”
Eliza grabbed Agatha’s hand, running as fast as she could toward the wall. She climbed to the top with Agatha by her side, both of them careening over the edge to land in the dirt. She scrambled to her feet and glanced around, letting out a grunt.
“I don’t see any horses,” she managed to get out, her breathing ragged from the run.
“We must have jumped over the wrong wall,” Agatha said. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
“What of Mr. and Mr. Beckett?”
“They’ll be fine. They know where their horses are; we’re on foot.”
“Good point,” Eliza said before she found herself running after Agatha down a dirt alleyway. She skidded to a stop at the edge of the main street. She leaned forward and peered around. “It’s clear.”
They strolled into the street, and Eliza could only hope they didn’t look too guilty, both of them covered in sweat and her wearing trousers of all things. Before she could point that particular issue out to Agatha, a man’s voice sounded behind them.
“Stop right there, ladies.”
Eliza stumbled to a halt and then slowly turned, appalled to discover a policeman standing a few feet away from her.
“May I ask why you ladies are roaming the streets this time of night?”
“Good evening, sir,” Agatha said pleasantly. “My friend and I are simply out for an evening walk. Beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“It won’t be beautiful where you’re heading,” the officer returned.
“I beg your pardon?” Agatha asked.
“You’ll be begging the pardon of a judge soon,” he said. “Let’s get you over there with your friends.”
Good heavens, Hamilton and Zayne must have already been apprehended, but . . . why was the officer gesturing to a group of ladies who were huddled together and wearing the most outlandish garments Eliza had ever seen?
Realization set in and she couldn’t help herself; she laughed as relief swept over her. “Sir, I fear there has been a grave misunderstanding. My friend and I aren’t, well, you know . . . ladies of ill repute.”
“I don’t think there’s any ‘misunderstanding’ about it,” the officer said, his eyes lingering on Eliza’s trousers.
Before she could even formulate a response to that, she was taken by the arm, hustled over to a large covered wagon with bars over the windows, and promptly thrown inside, Agatha following a second later. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, and the wagon lurched forward, causing Eliza to topple to the floor.
“This is a disaster,” she grumbled as she accepted Agatha’s offer of a hand up. She plopped down on the bench beside her friend and frowned when she noticed Agatha grinning back at her. “What could you possibly find amusing in all this?”
“This is wonderful fodder for a story. I could do an entire feature on how soiled doves are treated in the city.”
“This is serious.”
Agatha shrugged. “Mr. and Mr. Beckett will soon set it to rights.”
“How can you be so sure? They’ll risk detection if they come to rescue us.”
“Eliza, we’re not in here because the police think we broke into that house. We’re in here because they mistook us for prostitutes. They must have been doing some type of roundup. But enough about our current circumstances; I’ve been dying to find out what you thought about Mr. Beckett flinging you over his shoulder in that manly way and carting you out of that house.”
Eliza did not wish to dwell on Mr. Hamilton Beckett at the moment. If she was truthful with herself, she would admit she’d definitely been affected by his nearness as he hefted her down the stairs. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the gentleman had not suffered any difficulty with her weight. Good heavens, he’d barely broken into a sweat and his breathing had been anything but labored. The railroad business was apparently good for a gentleman’s health.
It was beyond disconcerting.
She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I wou
ld much rather discuss the reasoning behind your disgruntlement regarding the fact that Mr. Zayne Beckett didn’t realize how long you’ve been out of the schoolroom.”
Agatha’s grin slid off her face, and to Eliza’s relief, the subject swiftly changed to the weather.
5
Where are Miss Sumner and Miss Watson?” Zayne asked as he landed on the ground beside Hamilton and looked around.
Hamilton gestured up the road. “They’re in that police wagon.”
“Why?”
“I would have to think there was an officer waiting for them when they jumped over the wall,” Hamilton said.
“That’s strange, considering we weren’t the cause for the ruckus back at the house after all,” Zayne said. “Before I followed you out the window, I overheard one of the servants shrieking something about finding his lady love being a touch too friendly with another gentleman.”
“That’s what caused all that commotion?”
“It was quite riveting, all the nasty accusations and innuendos being shouted around. I was almost disappointed I couldn’t stay to hear more, but considering we were more than fortunate to not have any of the servants see us as we raced out of the house, I wasn’t willing to press my luck.”
“If the police weren’t summoned because of our presence, why do you suppose Miss Watson and Miss Sumner were apprehended?”
Zayne tilted his head. “Did you notice anyone else being shoved into the police wagon?”
“There were quite a few ladies of ill repute being tossed in after them.”
“There’s your answer then. I would assume the police were making one of their roundups this evening, and poor Miss Watson and Miss Sumner stumbled into the midst of that madness.”
“They look nothing like prostitutes.”