CHAPTER
Nineteen

She’d evidently thrown all caution to the wind because, in what seemed like a blink of an eye, she’d gone from never wanting to see Nicholas again, to thinking she could, perhaps, see him upon occasion, to considering having him join the inquiry agency.

It was an idea she found terrifying yet exhilarating at the same time.

For far too many years she’d been keeping everyone at a distance, afraid that to do otherwise would be opening herself up to disappointment and heartbreak.

However, in the span of mere weeks, she’d been enjoying the company of the other women who lived in the boardinghouse as well as, if she were being completely honest with herself, enjoying the encounters she’d shared with Nicholas.

She’d missed having friends, and had especially missed Nicholas’s company, but she wasn’t so naïve as to believe they still didn’t have hurdles to overcome, what with his determination to remain within society and his determination to marry well.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring Mrs. Kaffenburgh back?” Nicholas asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

“Do you want to know for certain which ladies are truly interested in securing your affection and are willing to ignore the lure of a title and a castle?”

“What if there’s not a single lady willing to ignore that?”

“Then I would suggest you abandon your idea of marrying by the end of this Season and perhaps wait until next Season to see if there might be better choices.” She gave his knee a pat. “However, I doubt that will be the case, and with that said, perhaps we should pick a date for Mrs. Kaffenburgh’s grand return. I’m fairly busy this week because the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency has been taking on new clients at an astounding rate, and I’m still working for Phillip, although not full time. I also need to get ready for the Moore-Linwood wedding, in addition to helping all the ladies at the boardinghouse restyle discarded gowns Phillip generously gave us.”

“You’re going to the Moore-Linwood wedding?”

“Jennette’s insisting every lady from the boardinghouse attend, and Phillip is insisting we all have respectable gowns to wear, knowing we’ll be under the scrutiny of society’s finest.”

Something interesting flickered through Nicholas’s eyes. “Do you have an escort for the wedding?”

“If you consider Daphne an escort, yes.”

“You could attend the wedding with me.”

The offer was so unexpected that she merely gaped at him for a moment as her stomach did a peculiar lurch before reality returned in a flash and had her shaking her head and her stomach settling. “Thank you, but no. That would draw all sorts of scrutiny, and it might cause me to take a page out of Daphne’s book and suffer a fit of the vapors.”

“You’ve never suffered a fit of the vapors in your life.”

“There’s always a first time for everything. But returning to Mrs. Kaffenburgh, perhaps she should return before the wedding. That way, if I discover there are a few ladies worthy of your consideration, you can ask to escort one of them, which would be a far better use of your time than escorting me.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you having decided all of a sudden to take on the role of matchmaker.”

In all honesty, she was rather surprised by that as well. “It does seem odd to find myself in that role, but I’ve gotten the distinct impression that Mrs. Kaffenburgh has thrown a wrench directly into your plans in regard to selecting an appropriate lady. That means it’s only fair for me to step in and offer you a bit of assistance with your love life.”

“I don’t need assistance with my love life.”

“I’m going to respectfully disagree with that, because I’ve met some of the ladies you’ve set an eye on, and I wouldn’t let my worst enemy marry a few of them, let alone a friend.”

Nicholas eyed her thoughtfully for a long moment, but before he could voice whatever was clearly on his mind, the carriage pulled to a stop. Glancing out the window, Gabriella discovered an impressive mansion, four stories high and built of brick and limestone.

Gus opened the door and helped her from the carriage, Nicholas stepping out beside her. He immediately took her arm as he nodded to the house.

“It’s impressive, I know, but don’t let that intimidate you. Obviously, Mr. Goelet is not an upstanding citizen, so keep that in mind if we encounter him in his lavish abode.”

Gabriella’s gaze traveled over the house again. “It’s very big.”

“Indeed, and it was only built a few years ago.” Nicholas pointed to a semi-enclosed space to the right of the entrance. “That’s the covered carriageway that Mrs. Goelet insisted upon, so that if the weather is questionable, she won’t get rained on. And the entrance is flanked by an iron porte cochere. Richard Morris Hunt was the architect for the building, and I have to admit, he did an amazing job. Wait until you see the inside.”

“Your description of the house is doing nothing to settle my nerves.”

Nicholas winced. “Sorry about that. I have a tendency to wax on about architecture because I seem to spend a great deal of my time being led through impressive houses by the owners of those houses. I’ve picked up a lot of tidbits about the buildings over the years.”

“You really could be a great candidate for the Knickerbocker Bandit, if you needed the money.”

He smiled for a brief second and then sobered. “Speaking of the bandit, did you hear that he made off with a great many of the Fairchild jewels the night of the Fairchild ball?”

“Mrs. Fairchild has already paid a visit to the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, wanting us to look into the theft for her.”

“But the Pinkertons have been hired by her husband to look into the matter, and the police department is looking into the theft as well because society is demanding this bandit be caught.”

“Mrs. Fairchild thinks her case needs a woman’s touch, since the Knickerbocker Bandit has yet to be caught, even though there’ve been numerous men investigating the situation.” Gabriella smiled. “I admit I’m looking forward to delving into this case because I’ve been thinking that there might be a chance that whomever that man was who was following me the night of the ball last week could very well be connected to the Knickerbocker Bandit.”

Nicholas blinked. “Why would you say that?”

“Because the only person I could think of who might want to follow me is the man who was trying to steal those jewels from Celeste Wilkins. What if she hired, unintentionally of course, the Knickerbocker Bandit to steal the Linwood diamonds and sapphires in the first place? And then the Knickerbocker Bandit decided it would be an easy job to relieve her of her ill-gotten gains? I foiled that theft, and then Ann allowed it to be known that the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency was responsible for recovering the Linwood jewels.” She shrugged. “It stands to reason that the man who dropped the jewels and then got away, albeit empty-handed, could very well have decided to investigate the agency, taking note of me in the process.”

Nicholas’s hand tightened on her arm. “If you’re right, you could be in a lot of danger, especially if that man did take note of you—so much so that he could recognize you even when you were disguised as a footman. Why didn’t you include this theory in your note to me when you refused my offer of having my Pinkerton man look into the matter?”

“Because, knowing you, you would have turned difficult about my refusal to allow a Pinkerton to follow me around the city. I don’t really think that’s necessary, because I’m being incredibly cautious whenever I leave the house, and I have yet to detect anyone following me. But enough about that. We’re currently in the midst of a case, so if you would be so kind as to get Precious out of the carriage, I’d appreciate it.”

Muttering something about her still being the most stubborn person he’d ever met, Nicholas returned to the carriage, stuck his head in, then withdrew it incredibly quickly when Precious began to bark. Sending Gabriella a nod, he moved around the carriage, opened the other door, then reappeared a moment later, not with Precious in his arms, but Winston. He set the dog on the ground. “We’re going to have to use Winston to get Precious to cooperate, even though it’s doubtful Mrs. Goelet is going to be pleased with having a one-eyed mutt show up in her parlor.”

“I’m sure she’ll forget about that once I divulge what we’ve uncovered about her husband, something that’s going to be more than uncomfortable for me to talk about. I really should start keeping smelling salts on my person at all times like Daphne does, because I can’t imagine Mrs. Goelet is going to react well when she learns that her husband was trying to groom a new mistress.”

“I’ll be making myself scarce when you explain that to her. Mrs. Goelet won’t want me around to witness the awful truth about her husband.”

Nicholas bent and clipped Winston’s leash on him right as Precious stuck her nose out of the carriage. She then leapt gracefully to the sidewalk, sidling up next to Winston. Together, the two dogs began walking for the house, Nicholas trailing after them as Gabriella fell into step beside him after she retrieved the portrait of Precious and tucked it under her arm.

“Perhaps we should use the back door,” she said as they reached what Nicholas had called the porte cochere. “I think I’d be considered the help, and the help isn’t supposed to use the front door.”

“You’re not the help. You’re an inquiry agent. You don’t think Pinkerton men use the back door, do you?”

“I don’t know any Pinkerton men, so I have no idea what door they use.”

“I’ll have to introduce you to Agent Clifton. You can ask him about the door he uses, but speaking of doors, the front door’s opening.”

Gabriella looked up and found a butler dressed in formal wear standing in the doorframe, his face expressionless as she and Nicholas, being led by Winston and Precious, walked up the three steps that led to the front door.

“We’re here to speak with Mrs. Goelet,” Gabriella said, stopping directly in front of the man. “We’ve found Precious.”

The butler glanced down, his head shooting up a second later as what seemed to be wariness flickered through his eyes. “How wonderful. Mrs. Goelet will be delighted to have Precious returned. I’ll see to it that her dog is delivered immediately.”

Getting the distinct impression the butler was about to dismiss her, Gabriella took a step forward. “It won’t be necessary for you to deliver the dog because I intend to do that. I’m Miss Goodhue of the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, and Mrs. Goelet hired me to find her missing poodle. Besides personally handing Precious to Mrs. Goelet, I also need to apprise her of the details surrounding Precious’s disappearance and who took the dog in the first place.”

The butler took a step backward and reached for the door. “I don’t believe there’s any need for Mrs. Goelet to be bothered with those sorts of details. She’s a lady prone to fits of anxiety, and you wouldn’t care to be responsible for—”

Before the butler could finish, he became distracted by a ruckus coming from inside the house, one that sounded like a pack of barking dogs, their nails scratching against the marble floor as they scrambled closer.

Winston peeked around Nicholas’s legs right before he turned tail and began straining against the leash, trying to get away from the poodles that were now bursting through the doorway, every one of them setting their sights on the patch-wearing pooch.

“What in the world is going on?” Mrs. Goelet demanded, joining the butler on the porch, her eyes narrowed on Nicholas, who was being tugged down the sidewalk and back toward the carriage.

Gabriella opened her mouth to explain but was interrupted when Precious bolted forward, snarling and snapping at the five poodles who’d been in pursuit of Winston. Instead of continuing after Winston, the poodles immediately turned on Precious.

Knowing she was going to have to intervene because five against one was not a fair fight and would definitely result in a bloodbath—and Precious’s blood, at that—Gabriella took a firm grip of the portrait she was carrying and strode toward the melee. Drawing back, she swatted a poodle that was gnawing on Precious’s ear, earning a growl in the process. She drew back again and aimed for a poodle that was at least twice Precious’s size right as a gunshot rang out, which had all the poodles, except for Precious, scampering for the safety of the house.

Turning, Gabriella saw Gus holding a smoking pistol.

“Nothing to see here, nothing to see,” Mrs. Goelet called out to a passing carriage, its occupants craning their necks as their carriage passed the house. “Come inside, quickly,” she demanded with a snap of her fingers to Gabriella.

Even though she didn’t appreciate being snapped at, Gabriella followed the woman, with Precious, curiously enough, falling into step directly beside her. Gabriella tried not to flinch when the poodle nudged her leg with her topknot.

“I’ll follow you in a few minutes,” Nicholas called. “I need to get Winston out from under the carriage.”

It took a great deal of effort to resist a grin when she looked over her shoulder and found Nicholas lying on his stomach, trying to coax Winston out from his hiding place.

“I’ll be fortunate to even see a penny of the fee Mrs. Goelet owes me after this fiasco,” she muttered, trudging past the butler, who was watching her with what was clearly another hefty dose of wariness in his eyes.

“Come along,” Mrs. Goelet said, waving Gabriella forward from where she’d been standing next to a grand curved staircase. “We’ll adjourn to the small drawing room. It’s a ways down the hallway, past the elevator.”

“You have an elevator?”

“It’s for those guests or family members who find themselves too weary to climb the stairs,” Mrs. Goelet said, giving a lazy wave to the elevator before gliding past a dining room that looked as if it could fit at least two hundred guests. They then walked by a picture galley, and then the library, until they finally reached the small drawing room, which was not small in the least.

Mrs. Goelet took a seat on a silk-covered settee, gesturing Gabriella into a gilt-framed chair upholstered in a delicate shade of salmon. The poodles, all except Precious, were already sitting in front of a large stone fireplace, their gazes settled on the dog they’d recently attacked.

Mrs. Goelet sent a fond smile to Precious. “You’ve found her.”

“We did.”

“Was she taken by some nefarious criminal who thought to sell her for cash?”

“Not exactly.”

“Who took her, then?”

Gabriella set aside the portrait she was still holding. “It’s a troubling story, Mrs. Goelet, and allow me to say up front that it gives me no pleasure disclosing the particulars of it to you.”

Mrs. Goelet darted a glance to Precious, then back to Gabriella. “Did Precious run off to join that mongrel I saw scampering down the walkway, dragging some poor gentleman?”

“No, although she did leap out of a buggy the moment she caught sight of Winston.”

“Who, pray tell, is Winston?”

“The mongrel.” Gabriella glanced at Precious, trying not to shudder when she realized Precious was snarling at the poodles, clearly still put out with them over their interest in Winston. “As for the gentleman you saw, that was Mr. Nicholas Quinn, Winston’s owner, who happened to be in Central Park right as I was confronting the lady who had possession of Precious.”

Mrs. Goelet frowned. “This seems quite complicated.”

“It’s about to get even more so. Perhaps you should ring for some tea. I often find tea settles my nerves, and I’m quite convinced your nerves are going to need it after hearing what I have to divulge.”

“My nerves never get the best of me, Miss Goodhue, even though everyone in this house, including my servants, seem to believe differently. So continue, if you please, and don’t mince words with what you have to tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Gabriella launched into the story of how she’d found and then recovered Precious. “That’s why Mrs. Holbrooke and I took to surveying all the carriages in Central Park today,” she finished. “We were hoping our information was correct and that Miss Langtry would take a turn around the park with Precious in her buggy.”

“Allow me to see if I’m understanding correctly,” Mrs. Goelet said, her face flushed and her eyes brewing with temper. “My husband gave my dog to a woman he was attempting to court, an unfortunate circumstance to be sure, and that woman had no idea Thomas is married to me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Mrs. Goelet sat back in her chair. “I see.”

“I know this is little consolation, but Miss Langtry has agreed to have nothing more to do with your husband and will be leaving New York as soon as arrangements can be made.”

Mrs. Goelet crossed her arms over her chest. “I was recently speaking with Alva Vanderbilt about matters of infidelity, which, I’m sure you’re not going to be surprised to hear, is rampant within society, although it’s rare anyone actually talks about it. Alva, however, does speak quite freely about the matter. It’s her belief that husbands tend to behave themselves for about ten years, then go off in search of their little amusements.” Mrs. Goelet blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid Alva is quite accurate with her belief, since I noticed Thomas distancing himself from me years ago, which was right around the time we’d been married ten years.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Goelet pinned Gabriella with an unwavering stare. “What would you suggest I do now?”

“Beg pardon?”

“What am I to do now? I’ve heard rumors over the years about Thomas and his consorts with other women, but now I have proof. What should I do with that proof?”

“I must admit you’re taking this better than I imagined,” Gabriella said before she frowned. “But I’m not the best person to advise you, Mrs. Goelet. I’m an inquiry agent. Perhaps it might be prudent to seek advice from your clergyman.”

“Is that what you would do if you were in my situation?”

Since Gabriella had what could only be described as an uncomfortable relationship with God, believing He’d abandoned her quite as her street family had done, she hadn’t sought out advice from any member of the clergy in recent memory. During her time at the orphanage, she’d been required to attend weekly services, but she’d never believed that God took an interest in her life, nor guided her on any specific path, not with the many challenges she’d faced over the years. Most of those challenges she’d faced alone, with no one to assist her with overcoming them, save herself. She did occasionally spend time in prayer, but in all honesty, she wasn’t convinced that time was well spent.

“I’d probably extract some form of retribution from him,” Gabriella finally admitted.

“How refreshingly honest,” Mrs. Goelet said right as a man strode into the room, carrying a black walking stick. He was swinging that stick from side to side, but his swinging came to an abrupt halt when his gaze settled on Precious.

“Is that . . . Precious?” he asked, shooting a glance to Mrs. Goelet.

Mrs. Goelet rose to her feet. “I’m sure you’re very surprised to see her here, dear, since you gave her to your latest lady love.”

Mr. Thomas Goelet set aside the walking stick, fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, and immediately began mopping a forehead that was already beaded with sweat. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“But where are my manners?” Mrs. Goelet asked sweetly, a good deal of venom mixed in with the sweetness. “Thomas, this young woman is Miss Goodhue of the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency. Miss Goodhue, my husband, the philanderer.”

Gabriella refused a wince as the thought struck that Mrs. Goelet might not have taken her disclosures regarding her husband quite as well as she’d first thought.

Mr. Goelet turned to Gabriella, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. His perusal of her, though, was suddenly interrupted when Mrs. Goelet grabbed the walking stick he’d set aside, stalked closer to him, then began smacking him about with his own stick.

“How dare you steal my dog, take up with another woman, and now gawk at Miss Goodhue. You’re behaving like a complete reprobate, and you should be ashamed of yourself.” She gave him some additional swats, which had Mr. Goelet backing rapidly across the room.

“Surely you must see that Miss Goodhue is lying to you, dear. Why, she’s not old enough to be an inquiry agent, and are women even allowed to be inquiry agents in the first place? I imagine she stole Precious herself and is telling you some very large falsehoods, hoping you’ll be persuaded to turn over a large reward to her.”

“I’d be careful in what you say about Miss Goodhue from this point forward.”

Turning, Gabriella found Nicholas striding into the room, Winston by his side. That he looked incredibly furious was not in question, nor was it in question that he also looked rather dangerous.

Mr. Goelet drew himself up. “I have no idea what you’re doing here, Mr. Quinn, but I’ll thank you to stay out of my business, especially as it pertains to this charlatan who has apparently convinced my wife I’ve been up to no good.”

“Everyone knows you’re always up to no good, Thomas.” Nicholas came to a stop beside Gabriella. “Have you finished explaining the situation to Mrs. Goelet?”

“I have.” Gabriella turned to Mr. Goelet. “Miss Langtry is no longer interested in your pursuit of her, Mr. Goelet. She’s currently making arrangements to sell that pink buggy you bought her as well as any jewelry you gave her.”

Mrs. Goelet brandished the walking stick at Mr. Goelet again. “You bought her a pink buggy?”

Mr. Goelet eyed the stick, shuddered, then narrowed his eyes on Gabriella. “You’ll regret this, Miss Goodhue, you mark my words. I don’t appreciate disruptions in my life, and you have certainly caused a disruption in my life.”

“I beg to differ,” Gabriella countered. “You’re to blame for all of this. I was simply the one your wife hired to locate her missing dog. Uncovering all sorts of nastiness certainly wasn’t what I was expecting when I took on the case.”

“There certainly is a lot of nastiness,” Mrs. Goelet agreed before setting her sights on her husband. “You and I will be discussing this at length after I pay Miss Goodhue.” She held out her hand. “I need your billfold.”

“I’m not paying this woman’s fee,” Mr. Goelet returned, his voice quavering with indignation. “That would be a waste of my money.”

Mrs. Goelet’s eyes glittered. “You seem to be forgetting that it’s my fortune keeping us in such fine style.”

“A fortune that came to me the moment we married,” Mr. Goelet shot back.

“No, it didn’t. Not all of it,” Mrs. Goelet argued. “Father still holds the bulk of the family fortune, and I assure you, he’ll not bat an eye if I ask him to set up a special trust that only I can access. I also doubt he’ll balk if I ask him to look into how to leave my inheritance in a way that will not allow you to see a penny of it.”

“The law says that a man has complete control over his wife’s life, including any money she may inherit.”

“I’m sure, given how wealthy Father is, he’ll find a way to circumvent some of those laws. Worse comes to worst, there’s always divorce.”

“Divorce would ruin your standing within society.”

Mrs. Goelet shrugged. “It might be worth it to be rid of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mr. Goelet whispered.

“Wouldn’t I?” Mrs. Goelet held out her hand again. “Your billfold.”

Mr. Goelet reached into his pocket and retrieved his billfold, which he reluctantly handed over to his wife. She opened it, pulled out every bill in it, began to count them, but then thrust the whole lot Gabriella’s way.

“There’s far more than what I agreed to pay for you to take on the case. Think of the extra as a bonus for lending me your advice as well as uncovering the truth about my husband—truth I had suspicions about but never wanted to face.”

“I don’t need a bonus,” Gabriella said slowly, taking the money from Mrs. Goelet but prepared to hand a good deal of it back to her.

“It’s clearly annoying Thomas that I’ve just given you so much, quite as it annoys me to learn that he’s been showering other women with extravagant gifts.”

Realizing that Mrs. Goelet was not going to take back any of the money she’d given her, Gabriella tucked the bills into her pocket. “Thank you, Mrs. Goelet. And now, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’ll take my leave.”

Mrs. Goelet shot a look to Precious, who was gazing longingly at Winston, then returned her attention to Gabriella. “There is one more thing. Take Precious with you. She’s clearly ruined herself by consorting with that beast, so she’s no use to me now.” She gestured to the portrait Gabriella had left by the chair. “Take that as well.”

“I don’t actually care for dogs.”

Mrs. Goelet gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “That’s not my concern. I desire for you to take her away, and because I am your client, I expect you to honor my request.”

A million arguments sprang to mind, but before she could voice a single one of them, Nicholas stepped forward. “We’ll be happy to take the dog, Mrs. Goelet,” he said before he turned, offered Gabriella his arm, and then walked briskly for the door, scooping up the portrait of Precious when he walked past it. Winston loped along beside him, while Precious pranced her way to Gabriella’s side, her topknot bobbing.

“The last thing I want is a dog,” Gabriella muttered as they left the drawing room, Nicholas increasing their pace as the sound of Mrs. Goelet’s shrieks drifted through the hall.

“I know, but if you’re going to find success with your inquiry agency, one that collects some very large fees from clients that belong to the society set, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with those clients. They’re used to having their demands met without question, something you’re woefully inadequate at. Fortunately for you, I speak society and am more than willing to give you, and the other ladies of the agency, lessons in how to deal with members of the elite.”

“A lesson I never thought I’d need. Concerningly enough, I might have been wrong about that.” She sent him the barest hint of a grin. “Difficult as this is for me to admit, I’m grateful you pulled me out of that room, even if I now seem to have possession of a dog I don’t particularly want.”

“I can keep Precious if you don’t want to, although . . .” Nicholas glanced at Precious and smiled. “She seems to like you, because she keeps nudging you with her topknot. Perhaps she’ll grow on you.”

“She only likes me because I saved her from a mauling, but time will tell if she grows on me. If she doesn’t, I’ll take you up on your offer to keep her.”

Hurrying for the carriage, Gabriella got Precious and Winston inside before she settled herself on the seat, Nicholas beside her. Gus set the carriage into motion, and as they drove away from the Goelet residence, Gabriella released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“That was far more difficult than I imagined, even with Mrs. Goelet admitting she’s had her suspicions about Thomas for years.”

“I’m sure being presented with proof of infidelity is devasting.”

“I’m sure it is as well. That means we need to take steps to assure that whatever lady you set your sights on is capable of holding you in great affection, and you need to be capable of returning that affection. That should help assure neither of you experience the devastation of betrayal.”

“I would never break a marriage vow.”

“Perhaps not, but that’s not to say your future wife will hold to the same, especially if she doesn’t hold you in affection and then goes searching for that affection years from now.”

“A less-than-cheery thought.”

“Exactly. So, Mrs. Kaffenburgh definitely needs to return to the city, and I’m thinking she’ll return in two days. That will give me enough time to clear my schedule for a few hours and give Ann enough time to let it be known through her channels that Mrs. Kaffenburgh is back.” She smiled. “Perhaps we’ll spread it about that Mrs. Kaffenburgh is taking tea at Rutherford & Company. I’ve heard the tearoom there is quite lovely, and it’s a place many ladies seek out after a day of shopping. That will allow ladies the perfect excuse to stop by my table to have a chat, and then we’ll see what they have to say about my fictitious great-nephew and take it from there.”