Caught by Surprise

by Jen Turano

  Chapter

  Six

  Deciding to take the stairs because she would soon be sitting on a train for far too many hours, Temperance hurried down the three flights, reaching the main floor a few minutes later. Moving to the door she hoped led to the main lobby, she eased it open and stuck her head through it, drawing her head back almost immediately when she noticed a group of young ladies gathered a few feet away.

  The very last thing she wanted to do was draw attention her way as she slunk out of the stairwell, or worse yet, have any of the ladies from New York recognize her, which would assuredly lead to unwanted questions.

  It wasn’t that she was overly concerned for her own reputation, especially since she no longer traveled in society and had reached an age where the status of spinster was warranted. But . . . Gilbert’s reputation was another matter altogether. His generous nature had already been sorely abused by her own relatives, and she would not further abuse that nature by bringing even a whiff of scandal to his name.

  How she was going to handle her relatives and the disgraceful behavior they’d displayed, she couldn’t say. She was confident, though, that Miss Henrietta Huxley, a delightful and eccentric older lady who’d taken Temperance under her wing, was going to have all sorts of ideas.

  Miss Henrietta Huxley was a woman of indeterminate age, although given her white hair and the snippets of history she’d disclosed in conversation, Temperance thought she might be approaching seventy. Miss Henrietta, along with her slightly younger sister, Miss Mabel, were known throughout New York as the Spinster Sisters. After they’d failed miserably with making their debuts in their youth, they deliberately stayed clear of high society for decades. But, after becoming acquainted with Temperance’s good friend Permilia Griswold, the two sisters had decided to abandon their reclusive ways. They’d recently concluded it was their lot in life to assist ladies in need. Besides donating their mansion on Broadway to Miss Snook to use as her new location for her school that catered to uneducated women living in New York, they’d set their sights on more than a few wallflowers, determined to see them well-settled in life.

  Temperance had found herself in the sisters’ sights, and if she wasn’t much mistaken, Miss Henrietta had probably already sought out the services of the Pinkerton detectives to locate Temperance once it became clear she’d gone missing.

  Deciding to ask Gilbert to loan her funds to send Miss Henrietta a telegram, allowing her to know she was still amongst the living, Temperance stuck her head out the door again. After ascertaining that the ladies she’d first spotted had moved on, she scanned the rest of the lobby, breathing a sigh of relief when not a single familiar face could be found. Walking through the door, she moseyed her way as casually as she could across the marble floor. She slipped behind her fern of choice and then began one of her favorite pastimes: watching people as they went about their business.

  Having traveled extensively throughout the world before her parents died, Temperance was not surprised in the least by the jewels and fashions she saw paraded before her. She’d always been fascinated by how people strove to impress one another by donning as much wealth as they could possibly manage. Clearly, the Palmer House was an establishment where people went to be seen, and they did not disappoint, especially since they were wearing the latest fashions from Paris, evidently purchased from shopping expeditions that had taken place during the spring.

  Furs, diamonds, and expensive silk swirled around the lobby, and Temperance’s fingers itched for a pencil and pad of paper to sketch out the fascinating scene unfolding before her. That itch disappeared straightaway, though, when she suddenly spotted a group of society ladies she’d seen often in New York City, all of the ladies members of Mrs. Astor’s New York Four Hundred. Shrinking back behind the fern, she held still as a statue, praying the ladies wouldn’t move closer, or worse yet, spot the yellow of her gown and decide to investigate why a lady would choose to lurk behind a fern.

  “I’m off to return the key to the front desk. I’ll be right back.”

  Swallowing the shriek that had almost burst out of her mouth, Temperance looked up and found Gilbert peering back at her through the fronds. “Really, Gilbert, you should know better than to sneak up on a person when they’re trying to remain undetected.” She frowned. “But why in the world are you going through the bother of returning the key? You could have simply left it in the room where one of the more than proficient members of the staff would have found it come morning.”

  “Hotels expect their guests to return the keys, as well as allow them to know they’re departing earlier than anticipated. I also tidied the room a bit, and remembered to stuff the dress you wore here into my traveling bag.”

  “Since I’m convinced that walking dress is beyond saving, you could have left it in the trash where I do remember putting it. As for returning the key, I’m not sure why you’d go through the bother since it wasn’t our room and you might draw unwanted attention from guests lingering around the front desk.”

  Gilbert immediately turned stubborn. “It’s expected.”

  Remembering far too well how Gilbert had always been a man determined to adhere to the rules, Temperance abandoned the argument that was on the tip of her tongue. “Since you’ll take to brooding if I dissuade you from returning the key, and I don’t care to spend the trip from here to New York with you in such a trying state, by all means, return away.”

  “I don’t have the habit of brooding.”

  “A topic we’ll certainly debate at a more opportune time, this not being that time. If it’s escaped your notice, you’re complicating our plan of me remaining hidden because I’m sure the guests in the lobby are beginning to notice that you seem to be engaged in a conversation with a plant.”

  “A most excellent point.” Spinning around, Gilbert strode away without another word, leaving Temperance smiling even as she shook her head.

  Less than five minutes later, he returned, presenting her with his back as he began mumbling out of what must have been the side of his mouth, that circumstance making it all but impossible to understand what he was trying to say to her.

  “. . . had to pay for the room . . . unbelievably rude of . . . round the back . . . carriages for rent . . . meet up in . . .”

  Without waiting to see if she’d understood the end of his conversation, which might have been instructions of how they were going to proceed, Gilbert sauntered away from her.

  Waiting until she couldn’t see him, Temperance slipped out from behind the fern and skirted around the lobby, doing her very best to avoid the different groups of ladies mingling about. Relieved when she reached a back door, she sent the doorman a nod of thanks and walked outside, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding once she reached the sidewalk. Catching sight of Gilbert standing by a hansom cab, she took two steps in his direction, but found herself unable to take another when someone came up beside her, took hold of her arm, and gave it a good shake.

  “What, pray tell, are you doing in Chicago, Temperance, and why were you sneaking around the lobby like a common thief, and . . . why does it appear as if you’re off to meet up with that gentleman over there? I distinctly heard that man claim to be a Mr. Smith when he was returning his room key only moments ago, but I now recognize him as being none other than Mr. Gilbert Cavendish.”

  With apprehension stealing up her spine, Temperance turned and found herself pinned under the glare of Mrs. Boggart Hobbes, Fanny Flowerdew’s aunt and well-known society matron of the New York social set.

  TWO HOURS LATER

  “We’ll have to get married as soon as we reach New York.”

  Temperance abandoned the plates she was placing around the blanket she’d decided would work in a pinch to hold the picnic supper they’d purchased before traveling to the train station. Setting her gaze on Gilbert, who was slouched in a chair on the other side of the Pullman car, she felt her lips begin to curve.

  That he was agitated
, there was no question, especially since his recently well-combed hair was decidedly mussed, and he’d even gone so far as to untie his tie, giving him a somewhat derelict appearance.

  “We’re not getting married, Gilbert,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

  “We were discovered by a New York society matron, at a hotel no less, without benefit of a chaperone for you, and discovered after that society matron overheard me returning a key to a room that had been reserved for Mr. Smith and wife.” He began drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. “We’ve stepped far beyond the proprieties this time, Temperance. And, given that we’re even now chugging our way to New York in a private Pullman car, and again without benefit of a chaperone, well . . . I think that’s reason enough for you to realize we need to exchange some vows. We’ll also need to exchange those vows as quickly as we can because I’m all but convinced that gossip about our time in Chicago will spread rapidly through New York, as well as to every other large city in the country.”

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold back a grin. “I don’t believe we’re interesting enough to command the attention of the entire country.”

  “This is not amusing, Temperance. You and I have been well and truly caught in a most outlandish situation, one that demands we do what’s expected and get married.”

  Temperance moved to stand in front of Gilbert. Leaning down, she patted his arm, quite like she used to do when they’d been children and had gotten into one unfortunate scrape after another. “We can’t get married, Gilbert. We’d be at sixes and sevens with each other before the last vow was spoken. I am far too carefree for your schedule-loving life, and you’re far too structured for mine. Why, I’m sure if we were to marry, you’d soon be a prime candidate for the Long Island Home Hotel for Nervous Invalids. I, on the other hand, would be a prime candidate for the nearest jail since I’m sure I’d be tempted to do some manner of bodily harm to you at some point in time.”

  “We aren’t going to have a choice in the matter, not once word gets out about this adventure we’ve shared.”

  “We’ve shared many an adventure together, Gilbert, none of which ever demanded we speak any vows once we completed them.” She smiled. “If memory serves me correctly, we’ve spent numerous hours in hotel rooms together throughout the years, as well as spent hours together without the benefit of a chaperone.”

  “We were children when we spent time alone in hotel rooms, and the only reason we weren’t chaperoned at all times is because you were always incredibly proficient at losing whatever poor governess your parents hired, of which, if you’ve forgotten, there were many.”

  “I did seem to have a knack for becoming parted from my governesses, didn’t I?”

  “You also had a knack for not adhering to the rules, something that always had me wondering how you managed to get through that finishing school your parents insisted on sending you to without getting expelled.”

  She turned and moved back to her picnic setting. “I’m perfectly able to abide by all the rules of decorum, and have done so admirably over the years, especially while living with my Flowerdew relatives. But, as I mentioned before, I’ve decided to reclaim my true self, and that self demands I occasionally abandon some of the more ridiculous etiquette rules. Life is too short to be constantly stifled by expectations set by people who’ve decided they’re superior to the masses, and people who hold fast to that superiority by creating an attitude of snobbery they expect their peers to embrace.”

  Gilbert nodded to the picnic setting she was creating. “Should I assume you’re now under the belief that sitting at a table harbors a sense of snobbery, which is why you’re now expecting me to dine with you on the floor instead of making use of a perfectly fine table and chair?”

  Temperance plopped straight down on the blanket. “Not at all. I simply thought that it would be more amusing to enjoy a picnic dinner on the floor since I’ve never picnicked on the floor of a Pullman car. Since you’re clearly not keen to embrace a sense of amusement, feel free to enjoy your meal at the table.”

  Blowing out a breath, Gilbert pushed himself out of the chair and joined her on the floor. “You know I’m not about to refuse your offer of a picnic dinner, especially when I know it will hardly benefit me to annoy you right before you and I speak vows that will tie us together forever.”

  “We’re not getting married.”

  Gilbert accepted the plate she thrust his way. “You can keep saying that, but we were discovered in a compromising situation, which means we have no choice but to get married.”

  Temperance lifted her chin. “Just as I occasionally choose to ignore the more ridiculous social etiquette rules out there, I’m choosing to ignore what’s now expected of us. I plan to continue on with my lovely new life, make my own way in the world, and become independent for the first time in, well, ever.”

  “You were independent before your parents died.”

  She shook her head. “While I did believe that at the time, I now know I was anything but independent because I had the benefit of my father’s fortune to back my extensive travels and lifestyle. Now, though, I’m earning a living on my own, and that is something I intend to continue doing.”

  “You cannot be earning a very substantial wage by teaching at Miss Snook’s school.”

  “It’s not substantial, but it’s enough.” She smiled. “I’ve learned to adopt an incredibly frugal attitude, one I never imagined I’d adopt in previous years, but one I’m proud of all the same.” Her smile widened. “And because I’ve become friends with Miss Permilia Griswold, a lady who takes the word frugal to an entirely different level even though she has quite the fortune behind her, I’ve even learned how to haggle.”

  “I’m not certain how you expect me to respond to that.”

  “You simply say ‘How lovely,’ or better yet, ‘Now I understand exactly why you don’t want to marry me,’ and we’ll move the conversation forward to more important matters.”

  “You don’t want to marry me because you’re afraid you’ll have to stop haggling?”

  Temperance slid a slice of meat pie on her plate, did the same for Gilbert, then rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to marry you because being forced to marry was not what I had in mind whenever I’ve turned my thoughts to marriage.”

  Gilbert picked up his fork. “What did you have in mind?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Because you were the boy I made rescue me time and time again from the castle my father’s butler built for me, I would have thought you’d know exactly what I’ve always had in mind as pertains to marriage.”

  Gilbert wrinkled his nose right back at her. “You want someone to build you another castle in a tree and then rescue you?”

  “Don’t be daft. I simply want some type of fairy tale, castles not necessarily required.”

  She was not amused when he suddenly grinned, shook his head, and, without another word, began eating his pie, his lips annoyingly enough, continuing to twitch.

  Jabbing her fork into her own pie, she took a few bites, then frowned. “How did you imagine the circumstances of your own marriage unfolding?”

  He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “I imagined it would unfold like a business deal.”

  “A business deal? You must be jesting.”

  “How can you be surprised by that?” he asked, setting aside his plate and fork. “You, more than anyone, know how I enjoy an organized life, and what could be more organized than approaching marriage exactly how I approach making deals? I figured I’d meet a young lady through mutual business contacts. She’d probably be a daughter of one of my more prominent business partners, and by marrying her, she’d get the protection of my name and comfort of my fortune, and I’d get additional business by joining my business with that of her father’s.”

  “That’s a barbaric way to consider marriage.”

  “It’s a moot point now, Temperance, since our fate wa
s sealed the moment Mrs. Boggart Hobbes overheard me returning the key for Mr. Smith and witnessed me paying for a room that she then figured out you and I had shared.”

  Temperance resettled herself on the blanket. “I’ve been thinking about Mrs. Boggart Hobbes, and I have to tell you, I don’t believe she’ll spread a single snippet of gossip about what she thinks she uncovered about us.”

  “How did you come up with that?”

  Shrugging, Temperance reached for a piece of bread. “Because she didn’t confront me in the hotel, but waited to stop me until after I’d removed myself from the crowd of guests assembled in the lobby. She’s also remarkably fond of Fanny and Clementine, dotes on them no less. Because of that, I believe she’s privy to the idea Clementine fancies you. The last thing she’ll want to do is disappoint her darling Clementine by making certain the object of Clementine’s affections has to marry someone else—especially me.”

  She took a bite of the bread, letting her thoughts travel for a moment before she swallowed and frowned. “I must say, though, that encountering Mrs. Boggart Hobbes certainly does shed additional light on why Chicago was chosen as the destination of an absurd abduction plot. In all likelihood, Clementine and her parents knew Mrs. Boggart Hobbes was traveling to Chicago this weekend and staying at the Palmer House. I imagine there was some plan afoot that would find you and Clementine bumping into Mrs. Boggart Hobbes at some point during your stay in Chicago. That tricky business would have forced you into a matrimonial corner, allowing my cousin to achieve what she desired while also allowing her duplicity in the matter to go unnoticed since she would have played the role of victim to perfection.” She caught Gilbert’s eye. “Do know that I would have stepped in on your behalf. I’m not sure how I would have gone about doing that, but I wouldn’t have allowed you to tie yourself to a shrew like Clementine.”