by Jen Turano
She felt safe in his arms, safe in a way she hadn’t felt in months.
“Are you all right?” Hamilton asked.
Good heavens, what must he think of her?
She was clinging to him and drenching the front of his coat with her tears.
The night had apparently been too much for her normally steely nerves.
She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, ordering her tears to cease falling before taking a step back even as a trace of disappointment swept through her when Hamilton’s arms fell away. She forced her chin up in order to meet his gaze and found herself unable to respond when she noticed the concern in his eyes. She managed a brief nod.
“Are you certain you’re all right?” he pressed.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she finally whispered.
“Did you think Zayne and I would leave you and Miss Watson in jail?”
Eliza gave one small hiccup. “I don’t put much trust in people.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Miss Sumner, neither do I.”
Before Eliza could respond to that telling statement, Zayne appeared by her other side.
“What happened to your hair?” he asked.
Eliza lifted her hand and encountered a tangled mess. “I was told some women try to hide weapons in the most unlikely of places. They made me take out all my pins and then refused to give them back to me.” She felt tears dribble down her cheeks.
Hamilton muttered something under his breath, pulled out a handkerchief, and began dabbing at her face.
“Come now, Miss Sumner, there’s no need to cry,” Hamilton said. “I think your hair looks lovely.” He frowned and rubbed his handkerchief more diligently against Eliza’s face, causing her to wince. His hand stilled. “Did someone strike you?” He touched her cheek with one finger, causing a shiver to run down her spine.
“I fell getting into the wagon.”
“Did you suffer any other indignities?” he asked.
“I was ogled by criminals.”
“Ogled?” Hamilton hissed.
Eliza nodded. “And there was whistling involved.”
“Oh . . .” Hamilton said, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Perhaps it would make you feel better if you put on your skirt.” He dropped a saddlebag she hadn’t realized he was carrying and pulled out her skirt, handing it to her.
She was oddly touched when he and Zayne presented her with their backs, their broad shoulders lending her privacy.
It was refreshing to learn chivalry was not dead, at least in regard to the two gentlemen blocking her from view. She slipped into the skirt, made short shrift of fastening it, and then smiled. “I bet this will put an end to the ogling.”
Hamilton and Zayne turned and looked at her before Zayne laughed and shook his head. “Please don’t take offense at this, Miss Sumner, but I don’t believe the only reason you were ‘ogled’ was because you were wearing trousers. You’ve been hiding your looks quite effectively.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re suggesting,” she said.
“There will be plenty of time to discuss that particular issue after we’ve secured Miss Watson,” Hamilton said.
“Good heavens, I forgot Agatha.”
Zayne grinned and gestured with his hand. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she noticed.”
Eliza swallowed a laugh. Agatha was sitting on the floor, joined by women of the night, all of them bowing their heads as Agatha whispered prayers under her breath.
“Is she . . . praying?” Zayne asked.
Eliza nodded. “She started that after her threats to the guard began to wear on the man’s nerves.” She took a step forward. “Agatha.”
Agatha raised her head and jumped to her feet. “See,” she proclaimed to the women, “my prayers were answered. Help has arrived.”
“Help has arrived for you, but what about us?” one of the women asked.
“Good point,” Agatha said as she turned to Eliza. “Do you have any money on you?”
“I’m a governess; I never have any money on me.”
Agatha set her sights on Hamilton. “Could you extend me a loan to bail these ladies out of jail?”
“I’ll do it,” Zayne said, speaking up.
Agatha sent him an appraising look, sniffed once, and turned her back on him as she addressed the prostitutes.
“This fine gentleman is going to post your bail, which means you’ll soon be free. I know it’s not my place, but I must encourage all of you to attempt to find another line of work. There’s a wonderful church off Broadway, and the minister there is always willing to help a soul in need. You may tell Reverend Fraser that Miss Watson sent you.”
“You’ve been very kind, Miss Watson,” one of the woman said.
Agatha smiled, assured the women once again they would soon be released, and strode out of the cell.
“I told you there was power in prayer,” she said to Eliza.
“You also told me you were certain Mr. and Mr. Beckett would come to our aid,” Eliza reminded her.
“Yes, but my prayers guaranteed our release and also sent help for those poor women.”
Eliza glanced to the prostitutes and wondered if Agatha was right. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to dwell on the power of prayer at this particular moment. She looked at Hamilton. “Are we free to leave now?”
Hamilton turned to the guard, who nodded and said, “You’ll need to stop by the office to retrieve their possessions.”
“You had possessions?” Zayne asked.
“Agatha had her gun,” Eliza explained. “She put up a bit of a fight when it was confiscated.”
“I still don’t understand why they wouldn’t let me keep it,” Agatha grouched. “Jail is a dangerous place.”
“Yes, I see your point,” Zayne said. “I don’t know what these officers were thinking, divesting a criminal of her weapon.”
Eliza smothered a laugh when Agatha sent Zayne a glare and stomped off ahead of them. It took only a few minutes to retrieve their belongings, but after Agatha reclaimed her gun and small bag, she opened her bag, pulled out some bills, and thrust them into Zayne’s hands.
“I don’t think this is enough to cover the cost of the bail for those women, but I’ll send the rest to you at my earliest convenience.”
“There’s no need for you to repay me,” he said.
“I have no desire to be in debt to you,” Agatha said. “It’s become crystal clear to me that you are not the man I thought you to be. I can’t believe I spent so much time harboring an infatuation for you.”
“But . . . I had no idea you felt that way about me,” Zayne said slowly.
Eliza felt the distinct urge to yell at the man to cease talking.
He unfortunately didn’t hear her unspoken plea and continued on.
“You must know I’m committed to Helena.”
Agatha muttered something that sounded very much like “you should be committed” before she smiled. “There’s no need for any distress, Mr. Beckett. I’m not going to fall to pieces over your lack of affection. I made a momentous decision as I languished in jail this evening, and I fear I won’t have any spare time to pursue an attachment with any gentleman. I’m more determined than ever to devote my life to writing articles, which I hope will shed light on the appalling circumstances of those less fortunate than I.”
“That’s hardly a suitable profession for a woman of your social status,” Zayne said with a snort.
“Further proof I was spot on regarding your character,” she said before she spun on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving Eliza to deal with two befuddled gentlemen.
“Well,” she finally said, “there you have it.”
“There I have what?” Zayne asked.
“I’m not actually certain, but thought I should say something to fill the silence,” Eliza said with a grin as she accepted Hamilton’s arm and allowed him to direct her out of the room and down a hallwa
y.
“Do you think Miss Watson will be waiting for us?” Zayne asked.
“Since she gave you all of her money, I don’t think she has any other option,” Eliza said before she walked through another door and nodded. “There she is.”
Agatha took that moment to look up from what appeared to be an intense discussion with an officer and gestured for them to join her.
“Would someone care to explain why we were released from jail without bail being paid?” Agatha asked.
“You may thank Judge Silverman for that favor,” Hamilton said. “When he learned you’d been unjustly arrested, he signed an immediate form of release and wanted me to extend to you his deepest apologies for such a grave misunderstanding.”
“Judge Silverman knows I was here?” Agatha sputtered. “What possessed you to divulge that information to a gentleman who is personally acquainted with my father?”
“It just slipped out,” Zayne said.
Agatha narrowed her eyes.
“I think I’ll go post the bail for those other ladies,” Zayne muttered before he hurried away in the opposite direction of where bails were paid.
“Coward,” Agatha called after him.
“We need to get you out of here,” Eliza said, taking Agatha by the arm and pulling her toward the door, pausing as Hamilton opened it for her.
“So, Mr. Beckett,” Agatha said as they walked out into the cold night air and stood on the steps of the jail, “how much did it cost you to get us released?”
“Again, there was no need to post bail, but to answer your question truthfully, I did offer to make a donation to the department.”
A flicker of unease swept through Eliza. “I don’t have funds available at the moment to repay you for your donation, Mr. Beckett.”
“I don’t expect you to repay me, Miss Sumner. If I’d been more specific regarding what wall I wanted the two of you to jump over, you might not have landed here in the first place.”
Eliza knew he was simply being kind, but before she could utter another protest, Zayne rejoined them.
“You’ll be happy to know those women are now free to go about their business,” Zayne said cheerfully. “I have a bet with one of the officers that at least some of them will end up back in jail before the night is through.”
“You really are a horrible man,” Agatha said.
“I think I’ll go get the horses,” Zayne said, ambling down the steps without a backward glance.
“Zayne, wait,” Hamilton called.
Zayne turned around and quirked a brow.
“I’m going to hire a carriage to see the ladies home,” Hamilton said. “I’ll need you to take my horse.”
“Why do you get to ride in a nice warm carriage?” Zayne asked.
Hamilton sent a pointed look to Agatha that resulted in Zayne spinning on his heel and striding away.
“There’s a carriage,” Hamilton said. He hurried down the steps, and Eliza couldn’t resist watching him. He was such a handsome gentleman, strong and possessed of a long gait, which seemed to eat up the distance to the carriage with remarkably little effort. She heard something that sounded very much like a chuckle and turned to find Agatha watching her with an annoyingly knowing look on her face. Luckily, Agatha didn’t appear to have any words to match the look at the moment, but, not wanting to give her an opportunity to find the words, Eliza set her sights on Hamilton and began walking his way.
Two minutes later, she was settled into her seat, thankfully traveling in the opposite direction of the jail.
“Are you up for some questions?” Hamilton asked.
“That depends on what you want to know,” Eliza said.
“I need to know why you were at Lord Southmoor’s tonight. Were you there because of Mr. Eugene Daniels?”
“I don’t personally know a Mr. Eugene Daniels,” Eliza returned.
“That complicates matters,” Hamilton said. “I was certain we shared a common problem.”
“It’s unlikely your problem is anything like mine unless you’ve had reason to entrust Bartholomew Hayes with a large sum of money,” she said.
“Who is Bartholomew Hayes?” Hamilton asked.
“He’s the man currently posing as Lord Southmoor, but I really don’t think I should say anything else about my situation. It wouldn’t be fair to involve you in it.”
“Miss Sumner, I’m already involved.”
“Eliza, just tell him,” Agatha said. “We could use some assistance.”
Realizing Agatha was right, Eliza took the next few minutes to explain matters to Hamilton. He said not a single word as she told her tale, but sat perfectly still on the seat, an unreadable expression on his face. When she was done, he turned his head and looked out the window. She began to fidget as silence filled the carriage. “Don’t you have anything to say?” she finally asked.
“I can’t believe you traveled across an entire ocean to try and track down a criminal on your own.”
That was all he could say?
Eliza’s temper flared. “It’s not as if I had any choice in the matter, and besides, I found him, didn’t I?”
“Well, yes, but don’t you have male relatives or a gentleman friend who could have handled this problem?” Hamilton asked.
“My only living relatives are my cousin and his wife, but they have problems of their own, seeing as how my cousin inherited my father’s estates, but has no money to run them.”
“Miss Sumner did have a fiancé at one time, but he turned out to be a scoundrel,” Agatha said.
“Yes, thank you for that,” Eliza muttered.
“You conveniently left out any mention of a fiancé,” Hamilton said.
Was it her imagination, or was there an odd tone in his comment, a tone that seemed almost . . . annoyed? Eliza shook the thought away. No, that was ridiculous. Mr. Hamilton Beckett surely was not bothered by the fact that she’d once possessed a fiancé, or . . .
“Your fiancé?” Hamilton prompted, pulling her from her thoughts.
She forced a smile. “If you were listening, Mr. Beckett, you would have heard Agatha mention the small fact that I used to have a fiancé. I no longer have one, as the gentleman in question seemingly only valued my rather large dowry, and when that disappeared, so did he.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he said.
Eliza inclined her head. “Thank you for that, Mr. Beckett.” Her eyes met his, and oddly enough, the world around her simply melted away. There was something quite lovely in his eyes, something . . .
Agatha coughed loudly, causing Eliza to blink and realize an unusual silence had descended over the carriage while she’d been trapped in Hamilton’s gaze. Honestly, it was a touch embarrassing, but how was a lady supposed to form a coherent word when a gentleman such as Mr. Beckett was watching her with such blatant—could it be interest—in his eyes?
“I could get out,” Agatha muttered.
“No need for that,” Eliza said before she shook herself ever so slightly to clear her head. “Where were we?”
“We were discussing your situation,” Agatha said, “and I, for one, must insist you allow us to help you sort out this mess.”
“Excellent suggestion,” Hamilton said. “Since it appears you no longer have a male relative at your disposal, Miss Sumner, I will assume that role and do everything in my power to assist you.”
The last thing Eliza wanted was for Hamilton to assume the role of older brother, as her reaction to the gentleman was certainly not sisterly. She pushed the thought to the farthest recesses of her mind and gave what she could only hope was an appreciative smile. “You are too kind, Mr. Beckett, and I fear I might actually be forced to take you up on your offer. It does seem we’re both embroiled in something disturbing. You mentioned a Mr. Eugene Daniels. What part does he play in all of this?”
“For the past two years, Mr. Daniels has been systematically underbidding business deals my family has been pursuing. I know relatively little about
the man, but Zayne and I are determined to bring his shenanigans to an end. He’s cost our company thousands of dollars, and when I heard he was acquainted with Lord Southmoor, or rather, Mr. Hayes, I couldn’t resist trying to learn more about their association.”
Eliza frowned. “I’m not certain how there could be an association between the two men. Mr. Hayes only recently entered this country, and I never heard him speak of a Mr. Daniels while he was in England.”
“It seems to me as if there were many things you didn’t hear Mr. Hayes speak about,” Agatha said before she glanced out the window and turned back to Hamilton. “You can have the driver set us down here, Mr. Beckett. I don’t think it would be wise to stop in front of my house.”
Hamilton tapped on the roof and the carriage began to slow. He leaned forward and placed his hand on top of Eliza’s before she had a chance to get out. “I’ll call on you tomorrow morning so we may finish our discussion.”
Eliza discovered she was unable to respond. The warmth of his hand was distracting, to say the least, and his touch was causing little jolts of something disturbing to rush through her.
“Mr. Beckett, you can’t call on Eliza during the day,” Agatha said. “She’s the governess, and my father is intent on persuading you to form an attachment to me. You’ll have to come tomorrow evening after seven. My parents are planning to attend the theater.”
“Seven it is,” Hamilton said as he removed his hand from Eliza’s and swung out of the carriage. He helped Agatha out and then offered his arm to Eliza. She took it and refused to allow herself the luxury of a shiver.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hamilton said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before he released it and jumped back into the carriage before it began to roll away.
Eliza felt her knees wobble ever so slightly, but forced them to straighten when Agatha let out a laugh.
“Still going to claim you have no interest in Mr. Beckett?” Agatha asked as she took Eliza’s hand and pulled her toward the house. “Did you notice how he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you?”
“Ahh . . . no, I didn’t notice that.”