CHAPTER
Seven

Gabriella stepped from the elevated railroad and onto the landing platform that was closest to Bleecker Street, hurrying down the steps to street level. Making her way for the sidewalk, she nodded to a gentleman tipping his hat to her, then edged into the midst of the crowd to make it difficult for the gentleman to follow her, annoyed with herself for acknowledging the man in the first place because, far too often, men seemed to take basic courtesies as an invitation to further an acquaintance.

She had no desire to further an acquaintance with any gentleman.

After Nicholas broke her heart in her youth, she’d vowed she’d never allow herself to be so vulnerable again, and made a concerted effort to avoid entanglements of the emotional kind. And even though there’d been a tiny piece of her that had always dreamed that, perhaps, someday Nicholas would find her again, the disastrous reunion she’d not enjoyed with him the night before had put a rapid end to any thought she may have had about relaxing the safeguards she’d placed around her heart. Abandoning her safeguards would not bode well for her, especially since Nicholas was not the same boy she’d known and loved all those years ago.

That boy had been replaced with a gentleman who lived so far removed from the life Gabriella lived that there was little hope of them sharing a friendship again, even if she might have, once or twice the night before, felt a little . . . tingly in his company.

She had no business feeling tingly around Nicholas Quinn. No good would come over dwelling on him, which had already been proven true since she’d gotten little sleep after she’d bid him good-bye, her thoughts consumed with childhood memories that had made sleep all but impossible.

That lack of sleep was exactly why she’d been unable to concentrate on her job at Villard’s Dress Shop and was also why Monsieur Villard, her employer, had insisted she leave early today.

Realizing her dismal attitude had been causing everyone at the shop to give her a wide berth, she’d not argued with Monsieur Villard, but instead had gathered her cloak and bag and headed out to catch the El, looking forward to a nice nap once she got to the boardinghouse.

She could only hope that her nap would not be interrupted with additional thoughts of Nicholas, because her mood was hardly likely to improve if he kept creeping through her mind. To make matters worse, some of her thoughts regarding Nicholas were quite unsettling because, frankly, she felt a bit of resentment toward him.

Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to get her resentment in check because she’d been struggling to survive since she’d aged out of the orphanage at seventeen, first procuring work at a shirtwaist factory and then obtaining a job at Villard’s Dress Shop a few years later. Nicholas had been dining at Delmonico’s, living in Washington Square Park, and apparently hobnobbing with some of the wealthiest men in the country.

Her resentment did not speak well of her character since, from the moment she’d shown up in the hovel run by Humphrey Rookwood, Nicholas had been her champion. Two years older than she was, he’d taught her how to survive under the most daunting of circumstances.

It had been Nicholas who’d suggested Gabriella dress like a boy after he’d noticed men on the streets paying her too much attention. With Rookwood’s agreement, Gabriella soon became known as Gabe, a small boy with short hair and a face that was always carefully smudged with dirt.

As she’d gotten older, she’d realized that Nicholas’s suggestion had saved her from a life of prostitution. She’d seen many a young girl disappear from the streets, rumors spreading throughout Five Points that those girls ended up in one brothel or another, most of them having their short lives ended far too soon.

Frankly, she knew she should be thrilled about Nicholas’s change in circumstances, especially after learning he’d not abandoned her so many years before. But thrilled was not an emotion she felt toward the man.

Shaking herself from her thoughts when she realized she was almost to the corner of Bleecker and Grove Streets, she increased her pace, arriving at the boardinghouse a moment later. Fishing in her reticule for her key, she let herself in the house, then shrugged out of her coat.

“Gabriella, thank goodness you’re back,” Eunice said, gliding down the hallway, the train of her black silk dress making a rustling sound with every glide. “Daphne’s been working diligently all day on a fresh list of suspects, and we’ve developed a new plan to clear Jennette’s name.”

“A plan?”

Eunice smiled, one Gabriella could actually see for once because she didn’t have a single veil covering her face. “It’s a sound one, and you’re needed to play the key role in executing it.”

The fatigue she’d been experiencing disappeared in a flash. “Let me hang up my coat.”

Equipped with a cup of coffee and a plate of cheese and pastries provided by Alma Kozlov, the woman who cooked two daily meals for the residents of the boardinghouse, Gabriella read over the new list of suspects Daphne had created.

“This is an extensive list,” she finally said, lifting her head.

Daphne set aside the piece of cheese she’d been nibbling. “That’s because I decided we might have been focusing our attention on the wrong type of suspect. Yes, society matrons are known to use cutthroat measures when an eligible gentleman is at stake. But then I got to thinking about what you told me Nicholas said about eligible society ladies—that they’re interested in social status and wealth over love. That suggests that those ladies may be shrewder than we’ve given them credit for, and it also suggests there may be a young lady out there who had the nerve to set up Jennette because she believes, and rightfully so, that young ladies are underestimated by everyone. I doubt anyone has considered that a young lady might be cunning enough to pull off such a scheme.”

Gabriella glanced at the list again. “It’s a sound theory, Daphne, but where did you come up with all these names? There’s got to be well over fifty listed here.”

Daphne nodded to Eunice, who was sitting on the opposite side of the card table they were using to peruse Daphne’s notes. “Eunice, fortunately, keeps boxes and boxes of newspapers in the carriage house, all of which are filed by date. I composed my list by looking at the society pages, taking down names of young ladies who made their debuts over the past few years. I had hundreds of names at first, but I pared those down after searching through marriage announcements.”

“You did all that today?” Gabriella asked.

“I’m very efficient when it comes to research, and I read more quickly than the average person.”

“Which probably comes in handy with your chosen profession. But even though I’m impressed with your theory and your list of suspects, I’m still confused about what we’re going to do with this list and what that plan might be that Eunice mentioned earlier.”

Daphne’s eyes began to sparkle. “It’s a genius plan, and no, I didn’t come up with it. Ann did.”

“Ann’s not even here.”

“True. She’s over at Mrs. Bracken’s house this afternoon. But she stopped here earlier after she completed her time with Mrs. Dobbs because she forgot the book she’s currently reading to Mrs. Bracken. Ann, naturally, was curious what I was doing. I posed the same concern to her about what we could do with my list of possible suspects, and that’s when Ann came up with a suggestion.” Daphne rummaged around the papers on the table, holding up what looked to be an invitation. “Working as a paid companion, Ann is often expected to attend certain gatherings with some of her clients, and it turns out that Mrs. Bracken requires Ann’s presence at a ball she’s been invited to attend this very evening.”

“Oh no” was all Gabriella could think to say, getting a sneaking suspicion about where Daphne was taking the conversation.

“Now, don’t be like that. You haven’t even heard Ann’s idea yet, which, again, is brilliant. You see, after Ann arrived at Mrs. Bracken’s house and read that lady a chapter in a book, doing so because Mrs. Bracken is apparently always in a more accommodating frame of mind after immersing herself in a good story, Ann informed Mrs. Bracken that she’s recently taken on a new client. That new client, Mrs. Kaffenburgh, has only just arrived in the city after taking an extensive tour of the continents, one that lasted for years. Ann then mentioned that poor Mrs. Kaffenburgh doesn’t know anyone in the city except her timid sister-in-law, Miss Kaffenburgh, who doesn’t travel in society, which Mrs. Kaffenburgh finds distressing because she has a nephew—or perhaps it’s a great-nephew, I’ll need to check my notes—who is an aristocrat from Britain, a young gentleman who just happens to be in need of a wife.”

“I wasn’t aware Ann had taken on a new client,” Gabriella said slowly.

“You’re her new client,” Daphne said, waving the invitation Gabriella’s way. “You’re going to pose as Mrs. Kaffenburgh. As soon as Mrs. Bracken heard that bit about your eligible nephew, she arranged to have invitations readied for Mrs. Kaffenburgh, along with Mrs. Kaffenburgh’s timid sister-in-law, to attend Mrs. Lanham’s ball tonight. Mrs. Bracken is apparently a great friend of Mrs. Lanham, who didn’t hesitate to provide two additional invitations to her ball.”

For a second, Gabriella had no idea how to respond, but only for a second. “This is not a viable plan. For one, the name Kaffenburgh is a very long name. Couldn’t you have chosen something like Mrs. and Miss Smith?”

“Smith hardly suits the occasion. Besides, Ann and I chose the name from one of my books, Murder at the Abbey. The Kaffenburgh character in that book was remarkably canny, and canniness is definitely going to be in order if we’re to enjoy any success tonight.”

Knowing there was little point in arguing about a name that had already been circulated about, Gabriella sighed. “Very well, Kaffenburgh it is, but how do you expect me to go to a ball as Mrs. Kaffenburgh when I’ve never traveled anywhere? I certainly won’t have the knowledge needed to discuss places I’ve supposedly been.”

Daphne rummaged around all the papers again before plopping a very large pile in front of Gabriella a blink of an eye later. “I’ve composed some key destinations for you to talk about—Rome, Paris, Venice, and Egypt. You can read over my notes while Lulah Wallace gets you into your disguise.”

Eunice sat forward. “We’re very fortunate that our Lulah works in the costume department at the Cherry Lane Theater, and that her theater is only two blocks away. She’s been dashing madly between the boardinghouse and the theater all day, bringing back different disguise options.” Eunice smiled. “She and Daphne finally settled on a look for Mrs. Kaffenburgh and her sister-in-law. You’ll both be ladies in your sixties with gray hair and spectacles.”

“And how will that disguise encourage young society ladies to spend time in our company?” Gabriella asked. “Most young ladies try to flee from the older set.”

“Not when there’s a nephew involved who possesses a title and a castle.”

“My nephew has a castle?” Gabriella asked weakly.

“He does. It’s located in . . .” Daphne frowned. “I don’t recall exactly where it’s located, but it’s in your notes.”

“And I’m supposed to get through all these notes by when?”

“We’re to meet Mrs. Bracken at her residence at nine. We’ll then travel with her and Ann to the ball—and no, Elsy won’t be driving us this evening. We’ll be taking a hansom cab because, well, for one, I’m not sure my nerves are up for Elsy’s driving, and two, Miss Kaffenburgh doesn’t own a carriage of her own.”

Gabriella’s brow furrowed. “If you’re worried about the state of your nerves, why, pray tell, are you volunteering to accompany me tonight? If you’ve forgotten, you fainted numerous times last night. There’s every chance we’ll find ourselves in even more daunting circumstances tonight.”

Daphne shrugged. “I’ll be in disguise, which I’m quite convinced provides me with an unusual amount of bravery.” She ran a hand down the front of the simple blue walking dress she was wearing. “I’ve also developed another theory that I believe will aid the state of my nerves. If you’ll recall, when the conversation turned heated between you and Nicholas last night, I made my excuses by saying that the ties in the back of my costume had loosened. It turns out they’d done more than loosened—they’d split apart, as had the ties of my corset, probably when I was walloping Nicholas with my bag. It occurred to me today that perhaps my frequent swoons are a direct result of lacing myself too tightly into my corsets, because I didn’t feel the need to swoon after I finished thumping Nicholas on the head. So, wanting to discover if that might be true, I abandoned my corset today, and I’ve been able to breathe much easier.”

“You’re not going to wear a corset tonight?”

“I’m not, but because Mrs. Kaffenburgh’s sister-in-law is on the plump side, no one will notice.”

Gabriella shot a look to Eunice. “Wouldn’t you care to participate a bit more in this Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency you’ve apparently decided could become a viable business venture and assume the disguise of Miss Kaffenburgh, which would allow Daphne to remain at home this evening?”

Eunice gave an airy wave of a black-gloved hand. “I’m more competent with organization and management. Daphne’s an observer, which is why her novels are so riveting. She’s able to grasp the true nature of people by simply watching them, which means she’ll be far more valuable at the ball than I could ever be. Besides, I don’t attend balls.”

Even though there were a million things that could go wrong with the plan, Gabriella couldn’t ignore the sliver of excitement that was beginning to flow through her.

She’d spent years merely trying to survive, and then years spent in a relatively mundane and safe position in a dress shop that left much to be desired. The thought of donning a disguise and then questioning young ladies to see if they should be moved up Daphne’s list of suspects was incredibly appealing.

She gathered the notes Daphne had composed and nodded. “Because none of us want to admit defeat when it comes to clearing Jennette’s name, and because we don’t have another plan, I’ll do it.” She handed the notes to Eunice. “But you’re going to have to help me prepare.”

Eunice smiled. “I’d be delighted.” She glanced over the first page of notes. “Shall we start with Rome?”

“Rome sounds like the perfect place to start.”