by Jen Turano
“Start with the store,” her father suggested.
“I think she should start with the adventure she mentioned she had on the train getting to Chicago,” Mr. Parsons said, a remark that suggested he’d been eavesdropping from practically the moment he’d left the room.
“I think she should start with the gentleman responsible for her sleepless nights,” Annie argued.
“A Mr. Nesbit,” Mr. Parsons said with a nod.
“How about if I just start at the beginning?” Beatrix suggested.
“That works for me,” Arthur said.
It took over an hour to get most of the story out, what with how everyone kept interrupting her and demanding she expand on a few of her adventures—such as the train heist, the demotions and then dismissal from the store, the many suffragist meetings she’d attended, the remaking of Theodosia, her visit to jail, the cats who wanted to plot her demise, the relationship between Aunt Gladys and Edgar, and then . . . question after question about Norman.
“I’m still a little unsure about why you and Norman suffered such a disagreement with each other,” Annie said slowly when Beatrix paused to take a sip of coffee. “Although I am beyond thrilled that you’ve finally met a gentleman you care about, which is what I was hoping would happen when I sent you off to stay with Gladys.”
“I thought you sent me off to stay with Aunt Gladys because I’d landed myself in jail.”
“Twice, dear, you landed yourself in jail twice, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about that other time when you almost landed in jail, when you were with the oh-so-charming Poppy Blackburn.” Annie regarded Beatrix over the rim of her coffee cup. “And speaking of Poppy, before I forget, she and her lovely husband, Lord Reginald Blackburn, are currently not in town, having gone to Kentucky to visit her parents. I believe they’ll be back soon, what with Poppy expecting a new addition to their family right around Christmas.”
“Then I’ll see her when she returns since I’m not intending on going back to Chicago.”
“You mustn’t be hasty about that,” Annie countered. “Before I got distracted with thoughts of Poppy, I was about to tell you the true reason why I sent you away from New York, and no, it wasn’t because you landed in jail.”
“Was it because I misled you about my relationship with Thomas Hamersley?”
“No, although I was certainly annoyed with you for being less than truthful with me about that relationship over the years.” Annie smiled. “However, I eventually realized why you’d perpetuated what was basically fraud on your part, and that, my dear, is the true reason for sending you off to stay with your aunt.”
Beatrix frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”
Annie took a sip of her coffee. “You used Thomas for years to keep other gentlemen at a distance—and not only gentlemen who might have been too interested in the wealth that’s attached to your name. By having society believe you and Thomas would marry at some point, you were free to go about your life without being pursued, well, until Thomas went off and got himself engaged to Helene Leggett. After word about his engagement got out, you then made the claim to me that you’d decided long ago to never marry, but I don’t believe that’s true.”
Setting aside her cup, Annie sat forward. “I believe you’ve always wanted what your father and I share—an unusual partnership in the eyes of society, but one that’s always been filled with laughter and love.” She exchanged a smile with Arthur before returning her attention to Beatrix. “God has blessed your father and me with a true love story, but I’m sure our love, being so unusual, must seem like an anomaly to most people, including you. That’s why I believe you used Thomas as an excuse to not become romantically interested in any gentleman, saving you disappointment in the end.”
“Until she met Norman Nesbit,” Arthur said with a nod. “Who apparently, from what I’ve been able to grasp, became incredibly put out after discovering Beatrix was not merely a salesgirl, but an heiress.”
Beatrix blew out a breath. “That’s not the main reason Norman became incredibly put out with me, but I’ve not gotten to that point of the story just yet, what with all your questions.”
“We’ll be silent as church mice,” Mr. Parsons said, setting aside his cup and folding his hands in his lap.
Beatrix resisted a smile. “That’ll last for about a minute, but allow me to use that minute to explain. You see, Norman wasn’t all that upset about learning I’m an heiress. What he was most upset about was learning there could be a chance I was a spy, interested in stealing those research papers I told you about.”
“That’s absurd,” Annie said with a huff. “Was his mother behind that unfounded accusation?”
“She was, but in her defense, she made that accusation after a letter was discovered at the home of one of the criminals I mentioned earlier.” She nodded to her father. “That letter appeared to be from you and left little doubt that you were responsible for attempting to divest Norman of his research.”
Chapter 35
“You do realize that it would have been much easier all around if you’d figured out that Beatrix is not capable of the skullduggery you accused her of before she left to return to New York, don’t you?”
Norman stopped in the middle of Grand Central Depot, wiped his perspiring forehead with the back of his hand, and arched a brow at Theodosia. “What did you pack in this trunk? I can barely pull it.”
“Essentials, such as a large bottle of olive oil so I can continue on with the treatment Blanche and I developed to keep my hair in fine form as well as numerous jars of different creams I’ve been trying out to see which one makes my face softer.”
“Clearly your idea of essentials differs from mine, but the next time I offer to run down a porter to manage our trunks, I suggest you don’t argue with me.”
Theo gave an airy wave of a gloved hand. “I can pull my own trunk, Norman, if you’d like. I only thought to save us time.”
Before Norman could respond to that nonsense, Gladys marched up beside him, took hold of the handle of Theo’s trunk, then marched away without a single word. Edgar sent Norman a look that proved that man was still put out with Norman before striding after Gladys, easily pulling his trunk and hers behind him.
“What are the odds that we’d just happen to travel to New York on the same train as Gladys and Edgar?” Norman asked.
“Not great,” Theo returned as she watched Edgar weave his way through the crowd. “And even though we rarely encountered them on the trip here, what with them having their own private Pullman car while we rode coach, one would think some of the annoyance they’re holding for you would have dissipated since we’re obviously in New York so that you can make amends with Beatrix.”
“That annoyance will disappear in a thrice if you are able to make amends with Beatrix,” Mamie said, huffing her way up to them as she lugged a large trunk behind her. Blanche nodded in agreement to that as she stopped directly beside Norman.
“And if you can convince Beatrix you’re worthy of another chance with her,” Blanche began, “I imagine you’ll once again find yourself in Gladys’s good graces, although it may take a while longer for Edgar to come around. He’s been very disturbed by the unfounded accusations you leveled against Beatrix.” With that, Blanche sent him another nod, smiled at Theodosia, and took off after Gladys, with Mamie by her side.
Norman trailed after Blanche, finding that far easier now that Gladys had relieved him of Theo’s trunk and he only had his to pull. “In my defense, those accusations didn’t appear to be unfounded at first, what with that letter the Pinkertons found.”
“Mr. Waterbury was framed,” Mamie shot back over her shoulder. “Although by whom, well, that is the question of the hour, isn’t it?”
“Too right it is,” Theo agreed, but instead of speculating on that particular matter, she hurried to join Blanche, immediately launching into a discussion about whether or not they should try adding grapefruit juice to a new tonic the
y were developing that was supposed to help decrease the oil on a lady’s face.
“Is this really the moment?” Norman asked when the two ladies slowed their pace considerably when their discussion turned earnest.
“Says the man who’s been known to block traffic when he’s crossing the street and comes to a mathematical equation he’s never considered before,” Theo shot back, although she paired her statement with a grin and did jolt into motion again.
Reaching a line of carriages for rent, Norman took Theo’s trunk from Gladys, who sent him a sniff before she climbed into the carriage she’d rented, leaning out of that carriage a second later to pin him with a stern look. “Do not be a disappointment, dear. I expect you to extend Beatrix a heartfelt apology as well as extend one to her father for even considering the idea he resorted to theft in order to get your research papers.”
Norman arched a brow. “Do you truly believe I traveled all this way to do anything but deliver apologies to Beatrix and her father?”
Gladys considered him for a long moment before she inclined her head. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.” With that, she retreated into the carriage, with Edgar following her a second later, but only after he sent Norman a scowl.
“See, you’re making progress already,” Mamie said before she jumped into the carriage, Blanche doing the same as soon as Mamie found her seat.
“We’d better follow right behind them,” Theo said, waving a man forward to help get her trunk onto the hired carriage they were taking. “Gladys didn’t bother to give us Beatrix’s direction, and while I assume she lives on Fifth Avenue, it might take up precious time if we’re forced to knock on every door in search of her.”
Norman gave Theo his hand and helped her into the carriage, right as the hair at the back of his neck stood to attention. Turning, he scanned the crowd bustling outside of the depot.
“What is it?” Theo asked.
“I have the most curious feeling we’re being watched.”
Theo stuck her head out of the carriage, peered around, then frowned. “Who would want to watch us here?”
“No idea, but . . .” Norman looked around again but didn’t see a single soul watching them, or even anyone who looked vaguely familiar. He told the driver to follow Gladys’s carriage before he climbed into the carriage and took a seat.
Theo pressed against the window as they trundled their way through the streets of New York, excitement in her eyes. “I’ve never been to New York before,” she admitted, her breath fogging up the glass.
“We’ll have to make certain to take in some sights—after I settle matters with Beatrix, of course.”
Theo sat back in the seat. “Dare I hope you have a plan to settle those matters?”
“Not a single one.”
“That’s not like you at all. You always have a plan.” She immediately began rummaging around in the large bag she was carrying, pulling out a fashion magazine, along with an etiquette book. “Perhaps these will give us some suggestions.”
Norman shook his head. “The few times I tried to follow proper etiquette and expected behavior didn’t seem to impress Beatrix in the least.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I tried to assist her in the coat check by taking all the coats from the ladies, she got annoyed with me. But then when I gave her that leg for Hubert, she sent me the nicest smile, even though I’m sure giving a lady a leg isn’t exactly proper.”
Theo stuffed the magazine and book back into her bag. “Perhaps that means she’s fond of the real you and not the person you tried to become in order to impress her.”
“Which suggests our experiments pertaining to proper manners were ill-conceived from the start.”
“On the contrary,” Theo argued. “Our experiment proved that expected behaviors won’t always work when the subject is not a typical subject, which you must admit, Beatrix is not.”
“An excellent observation,” Norman said as the carriage began to slow, and then pulled to a stop directly behind the carriage Gladys, Edgar, Mamie, and Blanche were in.
Reaching for the door, Norman stepped to the sidewalk, helped Theo out, then squinted at the house in front of him.
That the house was impressive was not in question, but the sheer size and detail given to every aspect certainly confirmed what Beatrix had been trying to tell him—the man who owned this particular house, that being her father, had no reason to steal anyone’s research.
He should have listened to Beatrix, but his pride had gotten in the way, that pride having been wounded over the notion that she’d used him, made a fool of him, and worse yet, had toyed with his affections.
He no longer cared if his pride suffered, because he intended to make matters right with Beatrix even if that entailed begging her on bended knee for forgiveness because . . . well, he was more than merely fond of her.
She’d changed his world in a way he’d never expected, and in so doing, she’d allowed him to see his many, many flaws, which had then motivated him to take steps to correct those flaws, thus improving his life significantly.
He’d begun to form actual attachments with his family and with Theo—attachments that would have been all but impossible when he’d still been so self-centered and consumed with his work.
Beatrix was responsible for that, and yet, when his mother had presented him with Beatrix’s duplicity, he’d allowed his pride to get in his way.
He’d be fortunate if Beatrix even accepted his apology, and while he was hoping to convince her to accept more than that—to accept him and all his flaws and idiosyncrasies—he couldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
“Are you going to come in the house with us or not?” Gladys demanded, pulling him out of his thoughts and back to the situation at hand.
“Coming in the house,” he said firmly, moving to join Gladys, who was now marching her way to a front door that was already opening.
“Gladys,” a man in a black jacket exclaimed, stepping aside as he gestured her into the house. “How lovely to see you. Your sister will be thrilled you’ve come to visit, as will Beatrix.” He held out his hand to Edgar, which Edgar immediately took. “Happy to see you’ve recovered.”
Edgar nodded. “It was a horrible illness, Mr. Parsons, but didn’t last long.” He sent a fond look after Gladys, who was already disappearing down a hallway. “Gladys watched over me like a hawk and even insisted on staying with me while Miss Beatrix returned here.”
“Which I would think must have convinced you it’s past time you . . . well, I’ll leave it to you to figure out what you should do from here,” Mr. Parsons said before he turned and smiled at Mamie and Blanche, both of whom were looking more than a little apprehensive. “Who do we have here?”
Edgar performed the introductions, his lips twitching when Blanche and Mamie curtsied to Mr. Parsons, a man who was clearly the Waterbury butler, before they hurried into the house.
“This is Miss Theodosia Robinson, a dear friend of this gentleman here,” Edgar said next.
Mr. Parsons arched a brow at Norman. “And who is this gentleman?”
“That’s Norman Nesbit.”
“You may wait out here” was how Mr. Parsons replied to that, sending Norman a glare before he gestured Theo and Edgar into the house and firmly shut the door behind them.
Chapter 36
“Can’t tell you how glad I am you’ve returned to New York,” Murray Middleton said, galloping easily beside Beatrix on his horse, Wilbur, a delightful creature that her friend Poppy Garrison Blackburn had saved from a neglectful and abusive deliveryman. “What with Poppy and Reginald out of town and Maisie constantly rearranging the furniture in our new house, I’ve found myself at loose ends of late.”
Beatrix wrinkled her nose. “I would think Maisie would want you to help her rearrange the furniture, what with how you seem to have an eye for matters like that.”
“And normally she does. However . . .” Murray grinned. “She’s in a
somewhat delicate frame of mind at the moment, bursting into tears at the drop of a hat. I tend to hover when she cries, and apparently when a lady is, well, expecting, they’re prone to dislike hovering husbands. Something to do with us having gotten them in that condition in the first place.”
“Information I did not need to—wait.” She smiled. “You’re going to be a father?”
“Indeed, but the idea of fatherhood scares me half to death.” He frowned. “What if I’m a horrible father, or what if we have a daughter and she decides to run off with some bounder Maisie and I don’t approve of, and—”
“You’ll be an excellent father, Murray, and I imagine if your daughter ran off with a bounder, you’d go after her and take care of it once and for all.”
“I have grown more proficient with a pistol.”
“I would imagine you have. See? Nothing to worry about.”
“Practical advice for sure, and I have certainly missed that from you while you’ve been away.”
“Since I doubt I’ll be leaving the city again anytime soon, you may avail yourself of my practicality anytime you feel you need it.”
Murray smiled before he sobered. “I’m sorry about all that business with that Norman fellow. Seems to me as if you’d grown fond of the man.”
“I was fond of him, but I don’t care to discuss Norman any further. Once I clear my father’s name, I’ll be done with Norman for good, and that will be that.”
“You said your father hired the Pinkerton Agency to look into the matter.”
“He has, and I’ve told the agent who came to the house all I knew about the men who’d been trying to steal Norman’s research. And while I’m sure the Pinkerton Agency is more than up for investigating the situation, I’m currently feeling at loose ends. That is why I’ve decided to help by finding all the men who attended that meeting with Norman a few months back and interrogating them.”