by Jen Turano
Zayne held up a wad of what appeared to be fabric. “Miss Sumner is currently without her skirt.”
“Why in the world would she take off her skirt?”
“I think the blame for that rests solely with you,” Zayne said with a grin. “You probably should have taken greater care when you shoved the woman out the window. Lucky she was wearing those trousers.”
“I see nothing lucky about it. She’s currently trundling off to jail.”
“But at least she’s not in her undergarments. That would be hard to explain.”
Hamilton laughed. “Let me see that,” he said, gesturing to the skirt. Zayne tossed it to him and he held it up. “Doesn’t it seem as if Miss Sumner has miraculously shed a good thirty pounds or so to fit into something this small?”
“I thought she looked a bit trimmer.”
“Do you think she’s purposefully disguising her figure?” Hamilton asked.
“I think she’s disguising a lot of things, given the fact that we just encountered her breaking into Lord Southmoor’s home,” Zayne said dryly. “I must say, she’s very intriguing.”
“Intriguing is an apt word for her.”
Zayne smiled. “You like her.”
Hamilton let out a snort. “Whether I like Miss Sumner or not is a moot point. There’s something mysterious surrounding her, and after everything I went through with Mary Ellen, I have no interest in becoming better acquainted with a woman I can’t trust.”
“Miss Sumner is no Mary Ellen.”
Hamilton shrugged. “She could be; we only met her last night.”
“True, but she seems to possess a great deal of character. It couldn’t have been easy for her to attend that dinner last night, and yet she rose to the occasion and persevered throughout the meal. Mary Ellen would never have agreed to place herself in such an uncomfortable situation.”
“My wife wasn’t one to do anything she didn’t want to do,” Hamilton said, “but enough about Mary Ellen and my interest or lack thereof in Miss Sumner. We need to fetch our horses and head off to jail. Hopefully we’ll be able to convince the officers on duty tonight that there’s been a serious misunderstanding. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get the ladies released, considering that no one knows they were dabbling in a bit of breaking and entering.”
Hamilton made his way to where he’d left his horse, stuffed Eliza’s skirt into his saddlebag, and then pulled himself up into the saddle, waiting for Zayne to do the same before edging his horse down the alley and into the street. He turned to his brother. “I still can’t believe Miss Watson was in attendance tonight with Miss Sumner. I always took her for a more subdued young lady.”
“She wasn’t very subdued when she was taking me to task about my impression she’d only just left the schoolroom,” Zayne said.
“I got the distinct impression she . . . liked you.”
Zayne blinked. “As in romantically likes me?”
“Liked,” Hamilton corrected. “She was definitely insulted concerning the fact that you thought she was still a child. Her interest in you might have waned.”
“She took me by surprise,” Zayne said. “She’s turned out to be a very attractive young woman—headstrong, but attractive.”
“Maybe you should tell her that when you see her, not the headstrong part, but the attractive bit. It might appease her wounded pride,” Hamilton said.
“I can’t do that, it might give her false hope,” Zayne said. “Besides, from what you’ve said in previous conversations, I was under the impression her father has his eye on you as a potential suitor.”
“Mr. Watson has been annoyingly persistent in that regard,” Hamilton admitted. “His desire to see his daughter well wed is only eclipsed by his desire to become associated with our railroad business to increase his capacity to distribute his soap. It’s no wonder Miss Watson found an excuse to avoid the dinner last night.”
“You’ve become awfully cynical in your old age.”
“You’d be cynical too if parents continuously placed their unmarried daughters in your path. Your association with Helena has led everyone to believe you’re firmly off the market,” Hamilton said.
“I am firmly off the market, which brings us back to the subject of Miss Watson and her indignation over my thoughtless remark. I can’t very well soothe her feelings because she might form unrealistic expectations, and you know perfectly well I’m completely committed to Helena.”
Hamilton steered his horse around a lumbering carriage and waited for Zayne to rejoin him. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve been sadly negligent in voicing my opinion where Helena is concerned. I think the only reason you’ve stayed with her all these years is because of her fragile health.”
“Honestly, Hamilton, this is hardly the time to get into a discussion regarding my future wife. If you’ve forgotten, we’re in a bit of a pickle at the moment.”
Hamilton knew perfectly well Zayne was deliberately changing the subject, seemingly unwilling to discuss the many faults of Helena. He pushed aside the opinions he longed to express, knowing there was still time to make his brother see reason, and nodded. “Fine, for now we’ll set all talk of Helena aside and concentrate on formulating a plan. What do you think about storming through the doors of the jail and demanding the ladies’ release?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, especially since I’ve always wanted to spend a night in a dreary cell.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Not really.”
Hamilton blew out a breath and steered his horse past an obviously intoxicated gentleman who was weaving in place in the middle of the street, holding a rousing conversation with himself. “We could always pay one of the officers,” he finally said once they’d traveled sufficiently away from the now-bellowing gentleman and his words could be heard. He turned when he realized Zayne was no longer by his side, but was sitting on his horse a few yards behind, his expression one of disbelief.
“You cannot be serious, Hamilton. We can’t bribe an officer of the law. We really will end up in a cell right beside the ladies.”
“I think we should look at it as an incentive, not a bribe.”
“It’s the same thing,” Zayne grouched as he nudged his horse forward. “Bribery is hardly honorable.”
“Neither was breaking into Lord Southmoor’s house,” Hamilton pointed out.
“We had a reason for that.”
“And we have a reason for bribery if all else fails. We can’t leave Miss Sumner and Miss Watson languishing behind bars. I shudder to think what type of trouble they’ll get into if they’re left to their own devices for too long. Besides, I feel a bit responsible for them getting apprehended in the first place. I was the one who told them to jump over that wall, and unfortunately, amidst all the chaos, I have the uncanny feeling I might have pointed to the wrong wall,” Hamilton said.
“You weren’t the one who suggested they go on a madcap adventure and steal into Lord Southmoor’s home.”
Hamilton grinned. “Maybe we should let them stew a bit. It might cause them to refrain from getting into this type of mischief in the future.”
“Sadly, I don’t think even a night in jail will curb Miss Watson’s and Miss Sumner’s apparent appetite for adventure,” Zayne muttered.
“You might have a point, but no time to ponder the ladies’ many deficiencies right now, because the jail’s just ahead.” He brought his horse to a stop in front of a hitching post, jumped to the ground, pulled his saddlebag off the horse, and waited for Zayne to join him. “Ready?”
“I still don’t think we have a viable plan,” Zayne said.
“Probably not, but we can’t dither around out here. The damsels in distress are waiting for their knights in shining armor to come rescue them,” Hamilton said.
“You should probably keep that particular notion to yourself. I have the sneaky suspicion Miss Watson does not see herself as a damsel in distress and will most likely ta
ke offense at the mere suggestion she needs a knight to come to her aid.”
“Remember when ladies wanted a knight in shining armor?” Hamilton asked with a shake of his head as he led the way up the steps and walked through the door of the jail.
“I think most ladies still want that, just not Miss Watson and definitely not our sister,” Zayne said.
“Arabella would certainly be offended if she’d heard my comment,” Hamilton replied as he glanced around and released a groan. “The place is filled to the brim, and it appears as if we need to join that group of people waiting in line over there.”
“They look like criminals,” Zayne said.
“Then we should feel right at home,” Hamilton remarked dryly, walking over to take his place behind a red-eyed gentleman who was rocking back and forth on his heels and muttering something that sounded like threats under his breath. Hamilton allowed the man his space, thankful that the line moved rapidly, and it only took a mere twenty minutes for them to reach the front. They were directed to an officer sitting at an adjacent desk.
“What may I assist you with, sir?” the officer asked.
“I’m here to retrieve two young ladies who were apprehended by mistake,” Hamilton explained.
The officer blew out a breath. “They were apprehended by mistake?”
“Indeed, the women in question were only out for an evening stroll and somehow ended up here.”
“You don’t say,” the officer said. “Are you here to post bail?”
“I’m of the belief there’s no need for bail, seeing as the women are innocent,” Hamilton said.
“We don’t arrest innocent women,” the officer snapped. “Every single person I’ve spoken with this evening has made the same claim.”
“These particular ladies really are innocent,” Hamilton said. “It is my assumption that the ladies might have been mistaken for women of the night. You see, one of them suffered an unfortunate accident, which resulted in the lady becoming parted from her skirt.”
“A likely story.”
“I have the skirt in question right here,” Hamilton said, dropping the saddlebag to the ground as he bent over to release the fastenings. He stilled when the officer shot to his feet, and the next thing Hamilton knew, a gun was pointing in his direction. He slowly straightened and held up his hands. “I’m not armed. I’m just trying to show you the skirt as proof to the validity of my story.”
The officer watched warily as Hamilton bent over again, flicked the saddlebag open, and pulled out Eliza’s skirt.
“This is most unusual,” the officer said as he resumed his seat.
“You have no idea,” Zayne muttered, stepping forward. “Have you seen the ladies in question?”
“A lady wearing trousers and her companion were taken to a cell a short time ago, where they’re waiting to be processed,” the officer admitted.
Hamilton reached into his pocket and didn’t allow himself a moment to reconsider what he was about to do. He slid some bills across the desk and leaned over as he lowered his voice. “Would that help get the ladies released without being processed?”
The officer eyed Hamilton for a long moment, pushed the money back to him, and surged to his feet. “Follow me.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Zayne muttered. “I told you bribery was a bad idea, but did you listen? No, you just had to go and try your hand at it.”
Hamilton didn’t have a chance to respond because, before he knew it, he found himself in a nicely appointed room with a gentleman who was buried in a newspaper and sitting behind a desk. A nameplate with The Honorable Judge Silverman engraved on it was resting right at the front of the desk.
This was a fortunate turn of events. He was acquainted with Judge Silverman, which was certainly going to make the nasty business of getting the ladies released relatively easy. He stepped up to the desk and cleared his throat, the noise causing Judge Silverman to peer over the paper and then lower it when recognition seemed to set in.
“I say, is that you, Mr. Beckett?” Judge Silverman asked before he rose to his feet and held out his hand. “What in the world are you doing here this time of night?”
Hamilton shook the hand and grinned. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Behind on my paper work as usual, so I volunteered to stay a few extra hours in case my services were needed.” Judge Silverman smiled. “The end of the weekend is always a bit of a strain on the department. People find themselves getting involved in all sorts of trouble.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Hamilton mumbled.
Judge Silverman shook his head. “What brings you here, son?”
Before Hamilton could reply, the officer stepped to his side. “This man apparently believes it is acceptable to offer bribes in order to hasten the process of getting someone out of jail.”
Judge Silverman made a tsking noise as he nodded to the officer. “You may go. I’ll settle matters with Mr. Beckett.”
The officer sent the judge a nod, turned on his heel, and strode from the room, closing the door behind him.
“Care for a drink before you explain what possessed you to attempt to bribe an officer of the law?” Judge Silverman asked.
“I’m really beginning to dislike that word,” Zayne said as he moved around Hamilton and shook Judge Silverman’s hand.
“Ah, the other Mr. Beckett,” Judge Silverman exclaimed. “I’ll have to tell my youngest daughter you’re still in town.” He winked. “She’s been devastated over the fact that you’re supposedly moving west to join that young lady of yours.”
“Please tell me my response to that will not affect my future,” Zayne said.
Judge Silverman laughed and walked to a side table, pouring three drinks and handing them around before he gestured to two chairs. He resumed his position behind the desk. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Hamilton took a sip of his drink. “It’s a tad difficult to put into words exactly what happened, Your Honor, but from what I can surmise, two ladies, Miss Watson and Miss Sumner, were apparently mistaken for ladies of the night. When Zayne and I discovered they’d been carted off to jail, we decided a grave injustice had occurred, seeing as how these ladies are not what we think they’ve been accused of being and . . . that’s why we’re here, to see them released as quickly as possible.”
“Explain the bribe,” Judge Silverman demanded as he eyed Hamilton over the rim of his glass.
“I suppose I can only plead insanity,” Hamilton said. “Events have been disturbing to say the least, and I really only wanted to expedite the process of getting two innocent ladies out of jail.”
Judge Silverman sat forward. “You mentioned one of the ladies is a Miss Watson. She would not happen to be a member of the soap family Watsons, would she?”
“The very one,” Hamilton said.
Judge Silverman blew out a breath. “And you swear to me these ladies are innocent of all wrongdoing?”
How could he possibly answer that with a straight face?
“I assure you these women are not prostitutes,” he settled on saying.
Judge Silverman rustled around his desk and pulled out a plain piece of paper. He scribbled something on it and handed it to Hamilton. “You’ll need that to get the ladies released, and I can only hope Mr. Watson will be in an understanding frame of mind when he discovers what happened tonight. He is one of the most generous patrons of the department.”
“I have a sneaky suspicion Miss Watson won’t be keen to share the details with her father,” Zayne said.
Judge Silverman laughed. “She’s a delightful minx, isn’t she?” he said as he stood and moved to the door, opening it and speaking with a man on the other side. He turned back to Hamilton. “Officer Whitman will escort you to your ladies, gentlemen. I would love to chat longer, but I fear it’s urgent to get these ladies released, seeing as how they’re innocent and have been unjustly held.”
“I truly appreciate your assistance in t
his matter, Your Honor, and I’ll be certain to send over a donation for the force tomorrow,” Hamilton said.
Judge Silverman smiled, and Hamilton shook his hand once more before walking into the hallway with Zayne. Officer Whitman led the way, taking them down a steep flight of steps and through another long hallway before he stopped in front of a closed door. He rapped on it and a rather surly-looking officer poked his head out.
“These gentlemen are here to pick up two women,” Officer Whitman announced, tipping his hat before turning and striding away.
Hamilton handed the officer the paper, watching as the man scanned it and suddenly lost all hint of surliness.
“Thank the good Lord,” the officer exclaimed as he ushered them through the door and closed it behind them. “These women are enough to drive a man to drink.”
“What have they done?” Hamilton asked cautiously.
“The one with the red hair and trousers, she’s been all right, but the other, she’s been an absolute nightmare, very vocal with her displeasure. From this paper, it would appear the ladies have been maligned, but I can honestly claim I don’t feel much sympathy for them at the moment, not with the pounding in my head that shrieking caused.”
“I don’t hear any shrieking,” Zayne said.
“That’s because the young lady has resorted to prayers. You should have been here ten minutes ago; the noise was deafening.”
Hamilton increased his pace until he came to the cell the officer indicated. He leaned forward and peered through the bars, locating Miss Sumner immediately. She was more than a bit disheveled as she slouched against the wall, her hair straggling about her shoulders and her expression forlorn. For some odd reason, he found her incredibly appealing. He moved aside so the officer could unlock the door, completely unprepared for what happened next.
6
Eliza blinked and then blinked again as recognition set in.
It was Mr. Hamilton Beckett.
He’d come for her.
Her feet flew into motion, and before she knew it, she was throwing herself into his arms, his warmth seeping through her. Tears she’d been holding back for what seemed like forever spilled from her eyes, and all she seemed capable of doing was burrowing closer to him.