CHAPTER
Twenty
“It would be helpful, Mr. Quinn, if you’d stop looking out the window every other second. I’m afraid if you keep moving, I’ll never be able to do justice to that mesmerizing bone structure of yours.”
Nicholas pulled his attention from the carriage house window, even though he knew he’d be glancing out it again soon because Gabriella and Daphne had been out and about as Mrs. and Miss Kaffenburgh for far longer than he’d expected. He smiled at Miss Judith Donovan, who was in the process of sketching him. “Forgive me for moving again. My only excuse is that I’m unused to sitting still for so long.”
“Something you should have mentioned before you agreed to sit for me.”
“I’m not sure I actually agreed to sit for you. It was more a case of blackmail on your part.”
“Since you ended up finding Gabriella in the park, I’m not sure why you’re complaining. You got what you wanted, and I got an opportunity to paint your lovely face.”
Before Nicholas could respond to that, Ivan, a man Nicholas had never spoken much to until that day, got up from where he’d been sitting for the past few hours and wandered to stand behind Judith, looking over her work.
Ivan winced. “For a first attempt, I suppose it doesn’t look too bad.”
“A first attempt?”
“Judith normally confines her artistic endeavors to bowls of fruit,” Ivan said, his attention returning to the canvas. He winced again and ran a hand over blond hair that was remarkably short. “No offense, Judith, but you might want to consider sticking to fruit. I’m not sure you’re meant for portrait work.”
“And I’m not sure your less-than-supportive attitude is welcome in my studio, Ivan,” Judith shot back, dashing a hand over her forehead and leaving a smear of pencil behind. She nodded to the book resting in Nicholas’s lap. “Perhaps you should continue reading aloud from Cecil B. Hartley’s book The Gentlemen’s Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness. Clearly, Ivan could benefit from Cecil’s wise words because his suggestion was quite ungentlemanly and could very well cause me to abandon my dream of becoming a portrait artist.”
“Some dreams are meant to be only that,” Ivan said.
“And some dreams are meant to be pursued,” Judith countered, setting aside her pencil before she took hold of the canvas and turned it around. “What do you think, Mr. Quinn?”
“After the hours we’ve spent together today, Miss Donovan, I believe you should call me Nicholas, and . . .” Whatever else Nicholas had been about to say vanished when he got his first look at what was supposed to be a sketch of him.
To say it barely resembled a person was being kind, and in all honesty, the head she’d sketched out seemed to resemble a melon of some sort—or perhaps a pumpkin. The eyes were off-kilter, and the lips she’d drawn were incredibly full, but perhaps that was to hide the fact that she’d sketched his teeth out of proportion to the rest of his face, which made them the focal point of the canvas.
“I can hardly wait to see what that looks like after you get it painted” was all he could think to say.
“It’s certain to be a masterpiece.” Judith turned the canvas around again. “But don’t anticipate getting to the painting stage soon. It’ll take at least two more sittings before we reach that point.”
Nicholas shot a look to Ivan, who sent him a sympathetic smile in return. “I’m not sure I’ll have time to do that many sittings. As you’ve heard, Ivan and I have been discussing some of the cases the agency is considering, and those cases will certainly take up a great deal of my time.”
“I imagine they will, but I’ve also heard you and Ivan discussing additional ways for you to be useful to the agency, one of which is giving us basic instructions about how to deal with members of society. You can give those instructions while you sit for me because it doesn’t bother me if you talk as I sketch, since you’re able to read out loud without moving your head much.”
“Nicholas only decided to read aloud because he was uncomfortable with the way I kept questioning him about why he wants to be involved with the agency, or how he thinks his progress with resuming his friendship with Gabriella is going,” Ivan said, retaking his seat. “If you ask me, Nicholas, you seem somewhat disgruntled that Gabriella is off to vet ladies on your behalf, although since you’ve apparently decided to marry a society lady, I don’t understand why you’d be disgruntled that your old friend has decided to step into a matchmaking role.”
“That’s not difficult to understand,” Judith said before Nicholas could answer. “He’s bothered by it because it suggests that Gabriella has no romantic interest in him since she’s willing to help him select a wife.”
Ivan nodded. “Ah, now I see what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing going on,” Nicholas argued as Judith gave a wave of a pencil-clutching hand.
“No one would blame you for holding Gabriella in the deepest affection,” Judith began. “She’s a very intriguing woman and beautiful to boot. That she apparently sees you as only a good friend must certainly rankle. However, you must realize that, with your being a member of society, and Gabriella being, well, Gabriella, it won’t do either of you any good to wonder what if, not unless one of you is willing to make some significant changes in your life. And that someone would be you because you’re the member of the New York Four Hundred.”
“I never said I was romantically interested in Gabriella,” Nicholas said, earning an exchange of knowing looks between Judith and Ivan, which he ignored. “But speaking of Gabriella, aren’t either of you getting concerned that she and Daphne have been away so long?”
Ivan settled back into the chair. “I was expecting them home sooner as well, but Gabriella warned us that having Mrs. Kaffenburgh show up in the tearoom at Rutherford & Company might produce some unexpected results. I don’t think you need to worry about their safety, though. Ann and Elsy are in attendance at Rutherford & Company as well, and, if you’ve forgotten, you managed to convince Gabriella to allow your Pinkerton man, Agent Clifton, to pose as her driver today. If a Pinkerton can’t be counted on to see Gabriella and Daphne safely home, I don’t know who can.”
Nicholas began to nod, stopping mid-nod when Judith shot him an exasperated look. “Agent Clifton is a competent agent, and I suppose I’m worrying for nothing,” he conceded.
“Indeed you are. Besides, Gabriella is competent in her own right, which is why I was surprised she agreed to let Agent Clifton pose as her driver.”
“Since you couldn’t drive her because you might have been seen driving around the city on agency business, and Ann and Elsy couldn’t drive her because they’re accompanying their employers to Rutherford & Company, there weren’t many options left for Gabriella. Yes, she could have taken a hansom cab, but when she and Agent Clifton met for the first time yesterday and I disclosed to him Gabriella’s theory about who could be following her, she decided it might be helpful if she and Agent Clifton joined forces to tackle the Knickerbocker Bandit case. It stands to reason that the two of them need to become better acquainted if they’re going to join forces, and what better time to do that than today? Gabriella’s hopeful that by working with the Pinkertons, we might enjoy a breakthrough in the Knickerbocker case sooner than later.”
“And if that cooperation between the two agencies doesn’t lead to a breakthrough?” Ivan pressed.
“We have other options already in play because Gabriella and I have decided to pay a visit to Humphrey Rookwood in Five Points a day or two after the Moore-Linwood affair. We both agree that Rookwood might have information about the Knickerbocker Bandit.”
“I could come with you to add another layer of protection,” Ivan said. “Five Points is dangerous at the best of times, and deliberately seeking out a notorious criminal down there makes it more dangerous than ever.”
Nicholas tilted his head, which earned him a sigh from Judith. Returning it to its original position, he glanced back to Ivan. “Shall I assume your assistance is being offered because you’ve come to some conclusion about me over the hours you’ve spent today taking my measure?”
“I’ve been doing no such thing.” Ivan nodded to the book in Nicholas’s lap. “I merely thought, because you explained to everyone that society members wield their manners like weapons, that I might find some of those manners coming in handy—not only with matters concerning the agency, but in my personal life as well.”
“Ladies do appreciate a man with fine manners,” Judith said, picking up an eraser and attacking the canvas with it, an action that Nicholas hardly found encouraging.
“That they do,” Nicholas agreed before he caught Ivan’s eye. “And while your explanation about why you’ve been spending time in my company today is perfectly reasonable, you and I know the real reason is because you were taking my measure.”
Ivan got up and moved to glance out of the window. “I suppose there’s no reason to deny that, because one of my tasks at the boardinghouse is to protect the residents from threats.” He returned his attention to Nicholas. “You’re a stranger to everyone here except Gabriella, and you’re a man. That makes you a threat. I’ve found that spending hours in a man’s company yields clues to his character, so that’s why I’ve kept you company all day.”
“And?”
Ivan retook his seat. “I’ve decided you’re not a threat to anyone except Gabriella.”
“I’m not a threat to Gabriella.”
“I beg to differ. There will come a time, especially if you marry into society, where your wife will need to take priority over everyone else. You must know that a wife will hardly want you spending time with Gabriella. Wives are known to take issue with their husbands enjoying comradery with another woman, and it’s clear that you and Gabriella share a unique bond, one I have to imagine developed in your childhood.”
Even though Ivan had just broached a subject he’d heard before from Gabriella and Professor Cameron, it was a notion that left Nicholas decidedly uncomfortable. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about what might happen between him and Gabriella if he did settle on a society lady to marry because that lady certainly could not be expected to understand the relationship he shared with Gabriella. That meant he had no business even thinking about maintaining their friendship, but the mere thought of abandoning Gabriella once again left him feeling—
“Pardon the interruption, but I thought you’d like to know that Lulah just spotted a carriage turning on Bleecker Street. She thinks it’s Gabriella and Daphne.”
Earning a dramatic sigh from Judith when he turned toward the door, Nicholas watched as Eunice advanced into the room, Winston by her side, but, surprisingly, no Precious in sight. Winston immediately broke into a trot, leaning against Nicholas’s leg and earning himself a pat. “Where’s Precious?”
Eunice stopped beside Judith. “She’s sitting by the front door, waiting for Gabriella, which suggests that Precious has decided she’s Gabriella’s dog. That’s something Winston might actually like because, even though he’s clearly smitten with the poodle, Precious does seem to be rather energetic.” Eunice smiled. “She kept waking Winston up whenever he tried to nap today, and the poor boy finally resorted to scooting under my desk, where there was no room for Precious to join him.”
“Winston does enjoy his napping,” Nicholas said.
“Winston will be able to enjoy naps at your house whenever he pleases since you probably won’t need to take ownership of Precious. It’s highly unlikely Gabriella will turn her care over to you because she does have a tender heart, although she hides it well. But, speaking of Gabriella, she’s almost home. Shall we join her?”
“Absolutely not,” Judith said, gesturing to her work. “I’m just now trying to perfect his chin. I need at least another hour.”
Eunice’s eyes widened as she glanced over Judith’s sketch. “You might need more than an hour with that, Judith, but you’re going to have to take pity on Nicholas and let him call it a day.”
Judith released another dramatic sigh as she waved Nicholas’s way. “Fine, you may go, but I’ll need you back here tomorrow at ten. The light is best then.”
“I told Eunice I’d help her with the books tomorrow morning,” Nicholas said, abandoning his chair and taking a second to stretch muscles that had been still for far too long.
“And while it was very generous of you to offer to help me with our accounts,” Eunice began, “I’ve decided to hire on a professional bookkeeper. That will make certain our accounts are kept in fine order, while also allowing me more time to spend in the field.”
Ivan immediately began to scowl. “If you’ve forgotten, Eunice, you’re the supervisor of the agency, which should keep you busy enough. There’s no reason for you to spend time in the field.”
“I’ve decided I enjoy getting out of the house more. I find it very invigorating.”
“Be that as it may,” Ivan said through teeth that were now clenched, “you’re needed to manage the agency, not solve the cases.”
Eunice’s eyes narrowed before she presented Ivan with her back. “I’m off to hear what happened with Gabriella and Daphne today. Feel free to join me if you wish.”
Heading after Eunice with Ivan on one side of him and Winston on the other, Nicholas glanced at Ivan and found the man still scowling.
“You and Eunice seem to have an unusual relationship,” he began, earning a grunt from Ivan in return, although he didn’t bother responding.
“Have you known her long?” Nicholas tried again.
“Long enough” was all Ivan said to that before he strode in front of Nicholas and made his way down the steps, moving quickly past the carriages and horse stalls on the first floor of the carriage house, giving Nicholas the distinct impression he did not care to share any details of his relationship with Eunice.
Having many issues of his own that he never cared to discuss, Nicholas allowed the man his space, waiting until Ivan disappeared through the back door of the boardinghouse before he followed.
He stepped into the mudroom as Winston bounded away, apparently in search of Precious, who could be heard yipping in another room. Heading into the kitchen, Nicholas smiled when his gaze immediately settled on Gabriella.
She’d removed her wig, and her hair was escaping its pins, long strands of it straggling over her shoulders. The lines Lulah Wallace had added to age Gabriella’s face were still in place, adding years to her appearance, but her eyes were twinkling as she chatted with Alma, Eunice’s cook, and her hands were moving all over the place as she made a point.
“Coffee would be much appreciated,” he heard Gabriella say. “Daphne and I drank so much tea at Rutherford & Company that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to enjoy a cup of that again.” She glanced his way and smiled. “Nicholas. I wasn’t sure you’d still be here. I was planning on changing and going to your house to give you an update if you’d returned home for the day.”
“There’s been no chance of that because Judith’s been keeping me hostage all day in her studio.”
“You were sitting for Judith when I left at noon. It’s after six.”
“I know.”
She walked over to him, a hint of a grin on her face. “Dare I hope it wasn’t too bad sitting for your portrait?”
Nicholas nodded to Ivan, who was in the process of sampling something from a large pot on the stove, Alma shooing him away a second later. “Ivan kept me company most of the day.”
“That must have been interesting.”
“Oh, it was. And although he claimed at first that he was merely interested in my useful etiquette tidbits, he was really only there to take my measure.”
“How did you fare?”
“Not sure. I think I did all right, because he hasn’t shown me the door. Frankly, I was able to get a good measure of him as well, and I have to say, he takes his responsibility of protecting everyone at the boardinghouse very seriously.”
“I’ve noticed that as well.” She leaned closer to him. “Ivan was the most vocal when I broached the matter of letting you assist us with some of our cases. He was worried that including a man into the mix might not be the best of ideas. However, since he hasn’t pushed you out the door, I think you did measure up well.”
They exchanged smiles as Nicholas tilted his head. “You were gone far longer than I expected.”
“That’s because we had to go to extreme measures to get away from some ladies who were determined to learn where Miss Kaffenburgh resides,” Daphne said, stealing up beside him.
Nicholas frowned. “Ladies tried to follow you?”
“Indeed.” Daphne nodded to Agent Clifton, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hat in hand. “Fortunately, Agent Clifton is very adept at the reins as well as being adept at losing people trying to trail after him. Granted, we had to take rather hair-raising detours through alleys I never knew existed. But once he was confident we’d lost the ladies, he allowed me to join him on the driver’s seat for the remainder of the ride home, as long as I covered myself in a black cloak.”
“Why would you want to sit on the driver’s seat? It’s miserable outside.”
“He’s a Pinkerton Agent” was all Daphne said to that before she hurried away, joining Agent Clifton a moment later. She took hold of Agent Clifton’s arm and tugged him out of the room right as Alma began shooing everyone else out of the kitchen, telling them dinner would be served in thirty minutes.
“We should set the table,” Gabriella said, pulling him toward the door.
The next twenty minutes were spent setting the table and greeting the ladies who were straggling home from their respective day jobs. Miss Florence Shaw breezed into the dining room with a jangle of bracelets, a recent acquisition from her manager at Tiffany’s, because she’d made a very impressive sale of diamonds to a leader of society the week before. After Florence, Miss Betsy Adler arrived home from St. Luke’s Chapel, followed by Ann and Elsy, who were in the company of Monsieur Villard, or rather, Phillip, as he insisted everyone call him these days.
After greeting Nicholas, Phillip explained that he just happened upon Ann and Elsy as they were walking home after finishing their shifts as paid companions and offered them a ride. However, because that explanation was accompanied by a rather telling glint in Phillip’s eye when his gaze lingered on Elsy, Nicholas wasn’t buying that explanation for a minute.
“Ah, Phillip, I was just speaking about you,” Daphne exclaimed, moving up to join them and thrusting a handful of silverware into Nicholas’s hand, which he assumed he was meant to place around the plates. “I was telling Elsy and Ann that Agent Clifton proved himself today to be an extraordinary driver, and then it struck me that I should speak to you about his driving abilities as well.”
Phillip cocked a brow. “Why?”
“Because you’re clearly swamped with business with the Moore-Linwood wedding rapidly approaching, and you’ve also generously offered to alter the gowns you gave us to wear at that wedding. I would think, since agent Clifton told me he would like to work with our agency on the Knickerbocker Bandit situation, that you wouldn’t mind stepping aside as our driver at night, or having Agent Clifton step in to continue instructing Elsy about how best to handle the reins.”
Phillip drew himself up. “A gentleman is expected to honor his commitments, and I, my dear Daphne, promised Elsy I wouldn’t discontinue my driving instructions with her until she was competent.” He turned on his heel and hurried off to join Elsy and Ann, both of whom were already speaking with Agent Clifton.
“That was not the reaction I was expecting,” Daphne muttered.
“If you really consider the matter, Phillip reacted accordingly,” Nicholas countered.
Daphne frowned, turned her attention back to Phillip, then nodded. “Clearly I’ve not been as observant as I normally am, what with all the cases and deadlines I’ve—” She suddenly stopped talking, muttered something about divulging too much, and marched away.
Before he could do more than wonder why Daphne was once again behaving rather oddly, Alma bustled into the dining room and told everyone she needed help carrying in the platters of food.
Fifteen minutes later, after Betsy said the blessing and everyone settled into the meal, Nicholas glanced around the table and smiled.
There’d been no question that he, Agent Clifton, and Phillip were invited to enjoy the meal as well as Gus, who’d shown up ten minutes before to see if Nicholas needed a ride home yet.
Gus had immediately found himself taken in hand by Ann and seated at the table, until Miss Lulah Wallace flew into the dining room, grabbed a piece of bread and a chicken leg, apologized for not joining them, then headed out of the room, stating she was late for the theater.
Gus had immediately offered to drive her, which earned a wrinkle of the nose from Ann before she declared that she’d join him on his ride to the theater. Alma had then promised to keep plates warm for Gus and Ann, and with a nod of thanks, they’d hurried from the room, Lulah telling them to move faster because she really was late.
As they ate, Nicholas found he couldn’t remember a meal he’d enjoyed more. Conversations ran rampant around the table, but the topics weren’t confined to matters of fashion or the weather. Talk revolved around the latest articles in the newspapers, and then politics, but not for long since no one could agree on that topic, and then little tidbits that had happened to everyone throughout the day.
Gabriella passed him a plate of fresh rolls and smiled. “I have to think this is a lot different than the dinners you’re accustomed to.”
“It is, but it’s far more amusing than the dinners I attend most nights.”
“It’s comfortable here, isn’t it?”
“You’re fortunate to have found such a place to live.”
She glanced around the table. “I’ve only recently come to realize that. None of us here really interacted much with each other until Jennette got arrested, but it’s quite as if we’ve decided we’re a family of sorts.”
He couldn’t help but feel the most unusual urge to be included as part of Gabriella’s unusual family, an urge that took him aback because he’d managed to achieve entrance into the most elite of worlds, and yet, sitting at a table in a modest boardinghouse gave him a feeling of contentment he’d not felt in years.
“I imagine you’re anxious to hear what happened today,” Gabriella said, drawing him from his thoughts as well as drawing the attention of everyone else.
“It turned into a bit of a fiasco,” Daphne said from across the table. “Ladies arrived at the Rutherford & Company tearoom in droves, all of them interested in seeking an audience with Mrs. and Miss Kaffenburgh.” She flexed her fingers. “My fingers were getting sore from taking so many notes.”
“But your notes will be useful,” Gabriella said. “Although I think I’ve narrowed the list of ladies who are genuinely appropriate for Nicholas down to three.”
“Only three?” Eunice asked. “How many ladies did you speak with today?”
“Close to fifty.”
“Fifty?” Nicholas repeated.
“Indeed,” Daphne said before she pulled her ever-handy bag into her lap and began rummaging through it. “I took the liberty of jotting down everything each lady said and, unfortunately, most of them were still very determined to impress Mrs. Kaffenburgh and her sister-in-law. A few of them, I’m sorry to say, were ladies you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with lately, Nicholas.”
Curiously, hearing what should have been disappointing news wasn’t disappointing him nearly as much as it probably should. “Which ladies?” he finally asked when he realized everyone seemed to be waiting for him to say something.
Gabriella winced. “Regrettably, Miss Maryanne Allen was the worst. She monopolized my time for a good thirty minutes, even though there were many other ladies waiting to speak with me—or rather, Mrs. Kaffenburgh.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And then her mother, Mrs. Allen, who is incredibly pushy, bragged almost nonstop about Maryanne’s accomplishments. Why, she barely batted an eye when I brought you into the conversation, telling her and Maryanne how I’d heard they were paying particular attention to you.” She set aside her cup. “Frankly, she was far too quick to assure me that was not the case and that I’d been misinformed. I was in danger of shaking some sense into both of them because they’re so insufferable.”
Daphne gave a shake of her head. “I actually had to intervene for a moment because Gabriella’s eyes were flashing like mad, and she was gripping the spoon she’d been using to stir her tea in what I can only describe as a menacing fashion.” She sent Nicholas a knowing look. “I didn’t think anyone at Rutherford & Company would appreciate watching Gabriella smack Maryanne with a spoon, so I launched into a description of the castle our great-nephew owns. Regrettably, that did not have Gabriella’s temper subsiding, because Maryanne could not stem her excitement as I rattled off details about the castle, such as the moat, the stained-glass windows, and the ghost that’s said to roam the turret room.”
Nicholas couldn’t help himself and laughed.
“He seems to be taking the news that Maryanne is not worthy of his attention far differently than I thought he would,” Daphne said before she glanced at Gabriella. “Do you think he might have misheard what we’ve been telling him?”
“I haven’t misheard a word, Daphne,” Nicholas said before Gabriella could respond, wiping eyes that had begun to water. “It’s merely that I can picture you and Gabriella now—you trying to distract her from her temper by drumming up a story about an imaginary ghost, and her considering using a spoon on Maryanne in some dreadful manner. However, I’ve now collected myself, so do continue. What happened next?”
Gabriella took another sip of coffee. “I was almost convinced we were going to have to tell you that the entire afternoon only proved my belief that society ladies are horrible creatures, but then I spoke at length with Miss Rosaline Blossom.”
“Emma McArthur’s best friend?”
“Indeed, and while Emma is definitely not for you, Rosaline, when she’s not being overshadowed by Emma, is a darling lady. She’s very kind, has a sense of humor I wasn’t expecting, and her family is of the Knickerbocker set.”
“She also loves Montague Moreland books,” Daphne added. “That means the two of you have something in common.”
Nicholas caught Gabriella’s eye. “You really liked her?”
“I did, which is why I think you should pay a call on her and offer to escort her to the Moore-Linwood wedding. She mentioned to me in passing that’s she’s attending the event with her parents.”
“I was planning on attending the wedding with Professor Cameron.”
“Who would certainly understand if you’d change your plans and escort Rosaline to the wedding instead.”
The thought of escorting a lady to the wedding who wasn’t Gabriella, who’d flatly turned him down when he suggested they attend the event together, left Nicholas feeling rather . . . unusual.
It wasn’t that he didn’t find Rosaline Blossom to be a lovely lady, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was not the lady for him.
“Who are the other two ladies?” he asked.
Gabriella’s eyes narrowed. “I think you should concentrate on Rosaline for now because she, in my opinion, is the best suited for you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t agree with that because I don’t think she suits me at all.”
Gabriella’s eyes narrowed another fraction before she turned to Daphne. “The other two ladies I was considering were . . . Miss Louisa Melville and . . . ?”
Daphne glanced through her notes. “Miss Pricilla Davenport.”
Gabriella arched a brow at him. “Will either one of those fine ladies suit you?”
Nicholas thought about it for a mere second before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not . . .”
“They’re not what?” Gabriella pressed when he simply stopped speaking, the very idea that he’d been about to say you leaving him reeling.
Since he had no idea how to answer her question because, clearly, he’d just had an epiphany that was going to change the course of his life—if he figured out how to handle that epiphany properly—he settled for sending Gabriella a smile before he turned to Daphne and asked her to pass him the butter.