18

Eliza didn’t have the strength to tug her hand out of Hamilton’s grasp. There was something decidedly comforting about having his warmth seep through her skin, and even though she was still incredibly put out with the gentleman, she wasn’t prepared to abandon his comfort just yet.

She shifted her gaze out the window, but instead of seeing the rapidly passing scenery, images of the night flashed before her eyes. It had been such a trying evening. First, she’d dealt with New York society and Hamilton’s insulting offer of marriage, followed by the whole Sally fiasco, and to top matters off nicely, there was now a dead body to consider.

She wanted nothing more than to seek out the comfort of her bed and make it all disappear, but unfortunately, she knew that wasn’t going to be feasible anytime in the near future.

The carriage began to slow, and Eliza saw the Beckett house appear out of the darkness. She pressed her face to the cool glass of the carriage and spotted Gloria scurrying down the walk.

Before anyone could move, Gloria pulled the door open and poked her head in. “You’ve given us quite a fright,” Gloria proclaimed. “Mr. Watson was just about to head off to jail.”

Eliza felt Hamilton release her hand, and she tried to appear nonchalant when Gloria’s sharp eyes landed on her. She sent the woman a small smile and struggled from her seat, waiting until Gloria took a step backward before she allowed Hamilton to help her down. She moved to Gloria’s side, took her by the arm, and began walking toward the house.

“Mr. Watson would have been upset if he’d gone to the jail,” Eliza said, “seeing as how we weren’t there in the end.”

Gloria stopped so abruptly that Eliza lost her footing and had to clutch onto Gloria’s arm to avoid a nasty spill.

“Don’t tell me you decided to pay a call on Lord Southmoor,” Gloria snapped.

“I didn’t decide to do anything of the sort,” Eliza said. “It was entirely Theodore’s idea.” She tried to prod Gloria forward only to discover the woman was digging in her heels.

“Where is Mr. Wilder?” Gloria asked, craning her neck as she peered behind her.

“He’s not with us,” Hamilton said, stepping up to join them, Zayne and Agatha in his wake.

“You couldn’t get him released from jail?” Gloria asked.

“Oh, we got him out of jail all right, but then . . .” Hamilton paused. “Let’s go inside so we only have to tell the tale once. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Watson will wish to be included.”

Gloria looked as if she wanted to argue, but finally released a dramatic sigh, shrugged out of Eliza’s hold, and stomped her way up the walk and into the house, her voice carrying back to them on the breeze.

“I think I hear my father yelling,” Agatha muttered.

“We should let Hamilton and Zayne go first,” Eliza suggested when she looked up and discovered Mr. Watson standing in the doorway, his frame illuminated by the soft gas light hanging over the door.

“I say, Mr. Beckett,” Mr. Watson railed. “I thought you could be counted on to keep my daughter and Lady Eliza out of trouble. What’s this I hear about you going somewhere else after you departed from the jail?”

“Mr. Wilder felt it was imperative we travel immediately to Bartholomew Hayes’s house,” Hamilton said, “but you’re absolutely right, Mr. Watson. It was inexcusable for me to allow the ladies to travel there with us. I can only extend to you my most abject apologies.”

“It’s not as if you had any choice in the matter,” Eliza said, sweeping past everyone to make her way down the hallway and into a cheery parlor. For a moment, the warmth in the room from the blazing fire in the fireplace and the elegance of the delicate furnishings artfully spread around the space struck her as odd. It was so completely different than the cold of the night and the taste of death in the air only a short time before.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and joined Mrs. Watson on the settee, turning to watch as Hamilton, Mr. Watson, Zayne, and Agatha entered the room. Hamilton set his sights on her and strode across the floor, plopping down beside her and blatantly ignoring her hiss of protest at the fact that she had to practically sit on Mrs. Watson’s lap to allow him enough room on the small settee. “There are other chairs to be had,” she muttered under her breath.

Hamilton quirked a brow, and then had the nerve to smile at her. “I prefer the comfort of sitting next to you.”

Eliza chanced a glance to Mrs. Watson, who appeared to be trying her best not to grin. Eliza was about to get up when Mrs. Watson rose from the settee and resettled herself in a chair right beside Gloria. “There, problem managed,” Mrs. Watson said before she exchanged a smug smile with Gloria. Eliza rolled her eyes and began to scoot away from Hamilton, her progress coming to an abrupt halt when Agatha dropped down on the settee, taking her mother’s place.

“Is there something wrong with all the other chairs in this room?” Eliza said.

“I thought we could lend each other support,” Agatha said. “My father is bound to become distressed when he learns all the pesky particulars of the evening.”

“Which particulars?” Mr. Watson asked as he settled himself into a chair beside the fire, Zayne taking the chair right next to it.

“Again, Mr. Watson, I must apologize for not demanding that Theodore turn the carriage around,” Hamilton said.

“Honestly, Hamilton,” Eliza said, “you’re taking entirely too much responsibility for what transpired. There was no possible way you could have realized there was a body waiting for us.”

It took a full thirty minutes to calm Mr. Watson down after that telling remark. Tea was summoned and then consumed as Eliza listened with only half an ear as Hamilton and Zayne tried their best to explain what had happened. She couldn’t seem to concentrate on the matter at hand. Her thoughts were spinning every which way, and all she really longed for at the moment was a quiet place to sort everything through to satisfaction.

For some reason, she had the strangest feeling her fate would be decided as soon as Theodore returned. She blinked out of her troubling thoughts when Mr. Watson rose from his seat.

“This certainly has been one of the most interesting evenings I’ve ever had, but I do believe it’s time we took our leave,” Mr. Watson said.

“We can’t leave now,” Agatha retorted. “We need to wait for Theodore.”

“It might take Mr. Wilder hours before he has an opportunity to leave the scene of the crime,” Mr. Watson argued.

“Roger,” Mrs. Watson interjected. “Honestly, dear, you’re being unreasonable. I wouldn’t be able to get one wink of sleep with matters so unsettled. Besides, neither of us could take to our beds with Agatha so determined. You know it would only be a matter of time until she figured out a way to get back here on her own.”

Mr. Watson sent one loud huff in Agatha’s direction, but then returned to his seat as conversation resumed.

The sun was beginning to peek through the curtains when the sound of approaching footsteps caused Eliza to swing her attention to the door.

Theodore strode into the room, more disheveled than ever, heavy lines of fatigue apparent around his one good eye. The other eye was now completely shut with an unusual shade of blue and green ringing it.

“The door was unlocked,” he growled, sending Hamilton what Eliza could only assume was a glare.

“We were expecting you, and I sent the butler to bed hours ago,” Hamilton returned.

“Anyone could have breezed in here and you would have been easy pickings,” Theodore said as he stalked over to the tea tray, poured himself a cup, sunk into the only available chair, and took a large gulp. “Bartholomew’s dead; someone shot him.”

Although Eliza had been determined to seek justice against the man, she’d never wanted him dead. She cleared her throat and felt tears sting her eyes. “What of Sally?”

“Gone . . . and there was no sign of Eugene,” Theodore said.

“But . . . why would someone shoot Bartholomew?” Eliza asked.

“As to that, I believe a few of the discoveries I made tonight will help explain,” Theodore said, setting down his empty cup before he struggled out of the chair and made his way back to the door. He called out to someone, and a rather disreputable-looking gentleman entered the room and deposited an armful of books on the table. The man gave a short bow and left the room. Theodore moved to the table and picked up one of the books, turning to Eliza and sending her a lopsided smile. “I found more than one of Bartholomew’s account ledgers.”

She’d been right; her fate was to be decided this evening.

“And?” she pressed.

“We now have everything we need to access Bartholomew’s accounts,” Theodore said, “and there’s more.” He gestured to two more disreputable-looking gentlemen who were struggling to carry a ratty old chest into the room. With a resounding thud, they dropped it by Theodore’s side and made a hasty retreat.

“Is that what I think it is?” Eliza asked slowly.

“It is, and I must admit, modesty notwithstanding, it was quite a stellar feat for me to be able to sneak it away after the authorities arrived. I certainly didn’t want it to be taken as evidence.”

“It seems a little small,” Eliza said slowly.

Theodore nodded. “That’s only half your money, but don’t despair just yet. We’ll return to that subject in a minute.” He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I found this on Bartholomew’s body. It’s addressed to you.”

Eliza took the paper and unfolded it. She drew in a deep breath and began to read it out loud:

Dear Lady Eliza,

I do not have much time, but I just discovered that you are in New York and took that as a sign to settle matters between us. There are no words to express my deep remorse for what I’ve done to you and your family. I have no excuse except to state I’m a weak man, and I’ve allowed others to influence my decisions.

By the time you receive this, I will be long gone, but I’ve left my account ledgers for you in a false bottom in my desk. These ledgers will give you the information you need to restore the majority of your funds back to you. I say majority because I’m not strong enough to leave you everything.

There is so much more I wish to say to you, but time is running short. I’ve been told Mr. Wilder was disposed of, but even I’ve heard about that gentleman’s reputation, and I fear Eugene is incorrect in believing the man is dead.

I leave you with one piece of advice, my dear: beware of Mr. Daniels. The man is mentally unbalanced, and I cannot predict what he will do when he discovers what I’ve done.

Your father did not deserve to have his reputation besmirched. He was a just and honorable man and I can only hope God will forgive my transgressions, as they are many, and that He will watch out for you and see you happy.

Your servant,

Bartholomew Hayes

Eliza looked up. “Am I to assume it was Eugene Daniels who murdered Bartholomew? And did he do so because of this trunk?” she asked.

“No, I think Eugene Daniels murdered him because of this,” Theodore said as the two gentlemen returned and placed another chest beside the first one before abruptly quitting the room again. “That’s the rest of your money.”

“Eugene and Sally fled with nothing?” Eliza asked.

“So it would appear,” Theodore said, “but perhaps it would be for the best if I started at the beginning.” He took his seat and released a breath. “Now then, from what I’ve been able to piece together, Eugene apparently sent Bartholomew a note summoning him home after I was caught snooping around his house. The rest of my story is sheer speculation, but here’s what I believe happened. When Bartholomew discovered what Eugene did to me, I think he panicked and realized events were spiraling out of control, especially after Sally arrived home from the ball and apparently told him you were in town. I discovered traveling trunks with gentlemen’s clothing stuffed in them, and the office was in complete disarray, leading me to conclude Bartholomew was intent on fleeing.”

“And then?” Zayne prompted.

“I imagine an altercation broke out, considering Bartholomew’s dead, but I have no clear idea what brought that on, except to think Eugene discovered Bartholomew trying to leave Eliza part of the fortune and decided that wasn’t acceptable. Hence the bullet.”

“Where did you discover the chests?” Zayne asked.

“One was pushed halfway into a closet in Bartholomew’s room, and the other was turned on its side by the back door. I can only guess the chest in the closet was the one intended for Eliza. Bartholomew certainly wouldn’t have wanted to hide it in a place we wouldn’t find.” He smiled a rather sad smile. “If you look on the envelope, Eliza, he was starting to address the letter to you and had gotten as far as putting Hamilton’s address on it, so Sally must have told him where you could be found. I imagine writing that letter was one of the last things Bartholomew ever did.”

“I still don’t understand why those chests were left in the house,” Agatha said.

Theodore grimaced. “The body was still warm when I touched it, leaving me to assume our arrival disrupted their escape. They were decidedly outnumbered, so they did the only thing they could. They fled, leaving the money behind.”

“Do you believe Eugene and Sally will come looking for their missing chest?” Zayne asked.

“I do,” Theodore said.

Eliza frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier for Sally to simply try to get the money Bartholomew left in the bank?”

“I doubt Sally or Eugene could access those accounts, seeing as how Bartholomew appeared to be a somewhat astute gentleman, at least in regard to financial matters. To be on the safe side, I’ve already sent word to the bank managers to freeze all of Bartholomew’s accounts and to alert the authorities if Sally shows up there,” Theodore said.

“She won’t be happy about that,” Eliza mused.

“Indeed,” Theodore agreed, “which leads me to my next order of business. You must make immediate plans to depart New York, Eliza. You won’t be safe here until Sally and Eugene are apprehended, and I certainly can’t tell you when or if that will happen.”

Agatha released a snort. “She can’t just up and leave, Theodore. Who would look out for her and where would she go? Honestly, that’s a ridiculous idea. Besides, haven’t you made the claim more than once that you’re a first-rate private investigator? I would think someone with your stellar recommendations should be able to protect her.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, Miss Watson,” Theodore said as he sent her a glare, “but this is an unusual situation to be sure. Eugene and Sally have been left with nothing, and desperation leads people to do unimaginable things. I cannot say with certainty I would be able to keep her safe.”

As Theodore’s words echoed in the suddenly silent room, Eliza realized he was right.

Sally and Eugene had proven themselves ruthless, and . . . who could say they would only direct their attention to her?

People she’d grown to care about were now in danger because of her money, and she knew she was going to have to leave to ensure their safety, no matter how difficult the decision was. She took a deep breath and slowly released it.

“I’ll go back to England,” she whispered.

“Out of the question,” Hamilton said as he leaned forward and caught her gaze. “You have no one to see to your well-being over there, and besides, perhaps we are jumping to a wrong conclusion.”

Eliza frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We’re assuming Sally and Eugene have been left with nothing, but I know perfectly well Eugene made a tidy sum from stealing business from me. There is no saying he’ll pursue you, given the risks involved.”

Theodore cleared his throat. “I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but before I went to Bartholomew’s today, I actually spent a bit of time investigating Eugene. From what I learned, that man was not actually in the railroad business; he passed off any deals he stole from you, Hamilton, to other competitors.”

“How in the world did you learn that?” Agatha asked.

Theodore sent her a grin. “If you must know, I am in contact with many individuals who occasionally skirt the law, and they always have quite helpful information to pass along to me when prompted. Unfortunately, I was unable to discover why Eugene was targeting Hamilton’s business, but I do still have men looking into the matter.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to some of these individuals,” Agatha said. “They’d be helpful . . .” Her voice trailed off as she shot a look to her parents and then looked up at the ceiling and began whistling under her breath.

“To continue,” Theodore said as his grin widened and he seemed to understand he was not to address Agatha’s statement, “I think we should return to Eliza’s situation and decide where she will be the safest.”

“England is an ocean away,” Eliza said. “I doubt Sally and Eugene would follow me there, given the fact that tickets are so dear to purchase, and it’s become clear they value money.”

Hamilton shook his head and gestured to the two trunks. “I have a feeling that what is in those trunks would be worth crossing an ocean to obtain.”

“We forgot all about the trunks,” Agatha said. “I, for one, am dying to see what is inside.” Her mouth dropped open. “What if it’s nothing but books or rocks or something of little value?”

“I assure you I did not lug those chests over here because they’re filled with rocks,” Theodore said, and Eliza couldn’t help but grin at his annoyed tone of voice.

“You already looked in them?” Agatha asked.

Theodore arched the only brow that seemed capable of moving in Agatha’s direction and didn’t bother to say a single word.

Agatha arched her brow right back at him before turning to Eliza. “Do you mind if I take a peek?”

“Be my guest,” Eliza said.

Agatha rose and strode to the trunks, bending down to fiddle with one of the clasps before she flipped the lid open and then took a step back, her eyes wide. “Good heavens, Eliza, I know you claimed your fortune was vast, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

Eliza got to her feet and moved to Agatha’s side before she glanced down at the stacks of bills, mixed with gold coins, and sent Agatha what she knew had to be a weak smile.

Agatha bit her lip and moved to the other chest, pushing it open and peering into the depths. She straightened and put her hands on her hips. “You could feed a small country for a very long time with the amount of money and gold stuffed into these chests.”

“Don’t forget the jewels,” Gloria said as she brushed past Agatha and bent over the chest, straightening with a glittering diamond necklace in her hand.

“You know, I guess I never realized Bartholomew made off with so many of my family’s jewels,” Eliza said, accepting the necklace from Gloria. “This belonged to my aunt Teresa. I forgot all about it.” She looked up to find Hamilton watching her with that all-too-familiar trace of annoyance on his face. She blew out a puff of air. Now was hardly the time to have to deal with another one of his unexpected bouts of, well, grumpiness. She presented him with her back when Agatha suddenly laughed.

“I can’t believe my family employed you as a governess,” Agatha said. “You’re incredibly wealthy, and I shudder to think how much more money you have stashed in those accounts of Bartholomew’s.”

“There might not be anything left in them,” Eliza said. “Sally was apparently enjoying living the life of an aristocrat, and for all I know, she might have spent the rest of my money on gowns and other frivolous things.”

Theodore began shaking his head even as a somewhat gruesome smile stretched his misshapen lips. “I glanced through the account ledgers, Eliza. There’s quite a bit of money in those accounts.”

Eliza thought she heard Hamilton release a disgusted sounding snort, but still wasn’t ready to address his surliness. Instead, she settled for sending Theodore a smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you. Since I now have my funds restored, you must send me the full bill. It wouldn’t be fair to allow Hamilton or Zayne to pay for your services, as I was the one who truly benefited from them.”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, considering Hamilton let out what sounded like a grunt and moved to her side, glaring down at her. “I told you I would be responsible for Theodore’s bill.”

“But that was before I had any money,” Eliza said.

“I find your offer insulting,” Hamilton snapped.

Eliza discovered she was quite done with his ever-changing moods and less than pleasant demeanor, let alone the fact that he’d not once proclaimed any great affection for her, except to state he held her in “high esteem.” She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I find your entire behavior insulting, which makes saying what I must say next incredibly easy.”

Hamilton narrowed his eyes. “And that would be what exactly?”

“I’m going home.”