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THE TRANSATLANTIC CROSSING was long but occasionally entertaining. Though Stiles met no one above decks who seemed inclined to his personal tastes, there was a lovely young cabin steward who was quite willing to share his accommodations on a number of nights, making the passage very bearable.
Above deck, he enjoyed the company of several couples who were making the return trip to America. It was during a dinner conversation that he first heard of the Pinkerton Agency. It piqued his interest at once.
“Incredibly handsome in those long leather coats and bowler hats,” Miss Lizzie Ferguson stated rather dreamily.
Her father was more blunt regarding how he felt about the Pinkertons.
“Bah! Nothing but a bunch of guns for hire. Rogues. Going about murdering whomever they chose for whoever had the right amount of money.”
“I believe the old man had a good idea in the beginning,” Howard Pushing, another guest at the table, added. “There was a great need to protect trains out west from robbers.”
“That may well have been true enough, but now they take any job that comes with the right amount of coin, and they have offices springing up all over. They’re moving east to Chicago, I’ve heard, as well!” Mr. Ferguson ranted. “Thank goodness New York hasn’t seen the likes of them yet.”
After dinner, Stiles asked Lizzie if she’d like to take a stroll on the deck. Her father was clearly delighted, seeing a possible courtship for his spinster daughter, and pushed Lizzie to agree.
Stiles observed Lizzie as they walked. She was probably in her early twenties, hardly old, with dark-auburn hair piled neatly on her head and a slight, trim figure. Her face was open and friendly. He liked her.
“There is something I must tell you before this goes any further, Mr. Long.” It had taken Stiles some time to grow accustomed to his name change. At times, he still forgot to respond to his new name. “I am not interested in any romantic ideas.”
Stiles found her straightforwardness extremely fetching. She was not a woman who played games.
“I’m not sure your father would agree with you, but I, too, am little interested in matrimony.” Stiles smiled brightly at her.
“So, I suspect you may have a question or two for me. I noticed how interested you were during the dinner conversation.”
Intelligent and straight to the point; another reason to like this independent woman.
“You, my dear, are going to make an incredible friend.” Instead of taking her hand to deposit a kiss on it, Stiles offered his hand to shake as he would any other comrade. Lizzie looked at the offered hand, took it, and shook it vigorously.
The rest of their walk was the beginning of a great friendship. They talked about the Pinkertons and many other things. Lizzie agreed to meet with him when they arrived in New York to help him do research on the agency, work on his accent, and learn American slang. He agreed to let her father think what he might about their relationship, both of them keeping the secret that in a few months’ time he was headed for St. Louis to apply with the Pinkerton Agency.
WHEN IT CAME time to leave New York and Lizzie, Stiles found the idea saddened him. He was going to miss her terribly. He had never had such a good friend, who accepted him just as he was. She quickly ascertained his tastes did not run to society’s norms and arranged for him to meet her cousin, Freddie.
Though Freddie was a tad too effeminate for Stiles—he liked a man with a little muscle on his body and a strong character—he proved to be quite talented in a few areas. It was no hardship at all to have Freddie on his knees sucking Stiles’ cock like the man couldn’t get enough of it. Stiles had to admit he’d known very few who could bring him such pleasure. The man also preferred to be fucked hard and fast, which was just the way Stiles liked it as well.
Stiles suspected Lizzie’s own tastes were also outside the realm of what society accepted. He had noticed the frequency of her trips to her dear friend, Caroline. It would have been ungentlemanly of him to broach the subject with Lizzie, but he was ever so glad she had someone to share her life with.
The matter of his not having received an answer from the Pinkerton Agency in St. Louis was also preying on his mind. He’d made up his mind that St. Louis was where he wanted to be, and it irked him that no one had contacted him. A lack of response was not going to deter him. So, after wishing Lizzie goodbye at the train station, he left New York on a sunny morning headed for St. Louis, determined to gain entrance to the Pinkertons come hell or high water.