by Jen Turano
“I said not much older than thirty.”
“I’m twenty-seven.”
“Oh, well, my mistake, but I was close.”
“Not that close.”
Gabriella resisted a grin. “If you’re concerned about looking older than your years, you might consider moving from black to a lavender shade and also abandoning your veils. In all honesty, I don’t even know what color your hair is.”
“It’s blond.”
“Is it really?”
Eunice pushed her veil aside, revealing hair that was, indeed, blond, and a lovely shade of blond, at that.
Gabriella frowned. “I assumed you had dark hair.”
“I’d prefer dark hair over my own because mine is rather distinctive.”
“What’s wrong with distinctive?”
“It draws attention.” Eunice nodded to an approaching carriage. “Any sign of a dog in that one?”
Gabriella lifted the opera glasses and glanced over the carriage rolling past. “No.”
“This surveillance business is not nearly as exhilarating as I was hoping it would be. To pass the time more pleasantly, what say you tell me more about Nicholas Quinn?”
“There’s not much to tell other than to say that I’ve been considering resuming my friendship with him. He seems to be trying rather diligently to not be so annoying these days. Frankly, it was quite sweet of him to offer to have a Pinkerton agent look into the man who might have been following me. Granted, I turned down the offer because I’m perfectly capable of seeing after myself, and I have been keeping an eye out for a tail, although I haven’t taken note of anyone suspicious.”
“Best to not let your guard down,” Eunice said. “But tell me, why are you only considering resuming your friendship with Nicholas? What’s holding you back from fully embracing that idea?”
Gabriella took a moment to think about the question, an uncomfortable answer suddenly springing to mind.
Resuming a friendship with Nicholas would leave her vulnerable because he had the ability to break her heart.
She’d purposefully hardened her heart over the years, unwilling to allow anyone to get too close to her because of the pain she’d suffered when she’d thought Nicholas had abandoned her. Pain left a person defenseless, and in her world, she couldn’t afford to be defenseless, not if she wanted to survive.
“Tricky question, was it?” Eunice asked.
“It’s more of a complicated one.” Gabriella sighed. “I’m not certain I can fully commit to a friendship with Nicholas because I don’t know how we’re going to bridge the separate worlds we live in.”
“Those who live in society and those who don’t rarely blend well together.”
“And that right there is why people find you unapproachable. You’re far too blunt,” Gabriella said.
Eunice’s lips twitched. “You’re one to talk. To make up for my bluntness, though, you may ask me a personal question. But only one.”
Since there was one question she’d always longed to ask, Gabriella didn’t hesitate to take Eunice up on her offer. “What happened to Mr. Holbrooke?”
Eunice’s nose wrinkled. “Perhaps I was too hasty in offering you carte blanche with a question. To clarify, you may ask me a personal question but not one involving Mr. Holbrooke.”
“You can’t add stipulations after you make an offer, and since you’ve now piqued my curiosity, I’m going to rephrase my question. You didn’t kill Mr. Holbrooke, did you?”
Eunice rolled her eyes. “You’ve been spending entirely too much time with Daphne. Of course I didn’t kill Mr. Holbrooke.”
“Did you kill someone else?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s hardly a reassuring response.”
“Indeed.” Eunice flipped her veil back into place. “With that settled, I imagine you must be curious about why I’m accompanying you today.”
“I imagine you’re here because Daphne couldn’t come and the other ladies are at their respective positions.”
“Daphne would have come with you if I’d not volunteered,” Eunice corrected. “However, because she was beginning to get that crazed look she gets whenever a deadline is looming, I decided it would save her a fit of the vapors if I’d step forward and assist you with our latest case. Besides, I thought it was past time I take an active role in our agency, even though Ivan is less than approving of that.” She sent a half-hearted wave at Ivan, who didn’t bother to return the wave.
Before Gabriella could remark on Ivan’s surlier-than-usual attitude, though, she caught sight of a carriage that had two incredibly large horses pulling it heading their way. Training her opera glasses on it, she saw a dog sticking its head out the window. She adjusted the glasses and realized the dog was not a poodle, but a mutt—one that had a distinctive patch over one eye.
“Is that a dog in that carriage? Better yet, could it be Precious?”
“I’m afraid it’s not Precious. It’s Winston, Nicholas’s dog.”
Nicholas took that second to stick his head out the window, his attention directed her way. He called something to Gus, who was driving the carriage, and then Gus pulled on the reins and steered the carriage directly toward them. After it stopped, Nicholas opened the door, stepped from the carriage, and headed her way.
“I was hoping I’d find you in the park,” he said before he nodded to Eunice. “Mrs. Holbrooke, you’re looking lovely today.”
“How charming of you to say so, Mr. Quinn, and please, call me Eunice.”
Nicholas inclined his head. “And you must call me Nicholas.”
“Thank you,” Eunice said before she turned to Gabriella. “I’ll leave the two of you to speak without me hovering. Ivan looks lonely.”
“This is an unexpected surprise,” Gabriella said as Eunice glided away. “Do you normally drive in the park this time of day?”
“Occasionally, but I’m here today because I’ve been looking for you.” His lips curved. “I stopped by the boardinghouse and was told, after making a bargain with Miss Judith Donovan, that you and Eunice could be found in Central Park.”
“You had to make a bargain with Judith?”
“Indeed, because Judith was reluctant to disclose your whereabouts at first. Frankly, I think she was reluctant to even answer the door because she’s evidently in the midst of painting a masterpiece and didn’t appreciate the interruption. However, her attitude suddenly changed because . . .” Nicholas shot her a sheepish grin. “She decided she simply had to paint me because she was enthralled with the bone structure of my face. I’ve now agreed to sit for her, and because of that, she told me where I could find you.”
“You’re going to sit for a portrait?”
“Apparently I am.”
“You need to speak with me that badly?”
He took a step closer. “I do, and I know I shouldn’t expect you to make time for me, since you’ve been clear about your wish to maintain distance, but something has been weighing heavily on my mind of late, something I could really use your counsel about.”
“Couldn’t you seek that counsel from some of your yacht club friends?”
“I considered that, but I recently realized that they’ll only tell me what they believe I want to hear. You, on the other hand, will tell me exactly what I need to hear.”
For the briefest of moments, she found it slightly difficult to breathe.
She and Nicholas had always sought each other’s counsel in the past, and that he’d gone to some lengths to find her because he longed to get her opinion on something that was weighing on him, well, it left her feeling far more charitable toward him than she’d felt since they’d reunited.
“Perhaps we should sit down,” she suggested, earning a smile filled with what seemed to be relief from Nicholas in return.
Taking the arm he extended to her, she walked with him over to the bench she’d recently abandoned and took a seat. Nicholas sat down beside her, drew in a deep breath, and began telling he
r exactly what had been troubling him of late.
It turned out there were quite a few things bothering him—from having doubts about the soundness of his decision to select a society wife this Season to questioning what would happen if Mrs. Kaffenburgh would suddenly return to New York. He was evidently concerned that if Mrs. Kaffenburgh reappeared on the scene, all the young ladies who’d been very keen to return to his good graces would abruptly abandon their efforts to charm him in order to try their luck at procuring the hand of a fictitious earl.
When Nicholas stopped talking and sent her an expectant look, Gabriella reached out and gave his arm a pat. “I’m not sure why you’re so concerned about Mrs. Kaffenburgh. You and I know she’s not coming back. Besides, perhaps all the interest in the imaginary earl was just like what happens when a child sees a sparkly new toy. They’re fixated on it at first, but then, after the sparkle has worn off, they return to their favorite toy, finding they enjoy that more than the sparkly toy they once coveted.”
“Are you suggesting I’m the old, less-sparkly toy?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But what happens if another sparkly toy arrives on the social scene?” Nicholas asked. “Should I simply prepare myself to take a back seat until the fascination with that toy disappears? And how will I ever know for certain if any of the ladies I’ve been squiring around the city actually care about me and not simply my standing within society or my fortune?”
Gabriella frowned. “You told me affection doesn’t count for much with society marriages.”
Nicholas rubbed his temples. “I may have been too hasty with that proclamation. After it became clear that ladies were willing to abandon my side in droves when Mrs. Kaffenburgh came to town, I began rethinking my position on marriage in general. I’ve been coming to the conclusion that I don’t believe I care to be married to a lady who doesn’t hold me in at least a modicum of affection. It seems like a dreary way to live, which is not a sentiment that’s shared by any of my society friends.”
“Hence the reason for seeking me out,” Gabriella said before she blew out a breath, reluctant to voice an idea that was now swirling around her mind.
Nicholas had been quite right when he’d said she’d tell him what he needed to hear, but she knew she couldn’t simply warn him off society ladies in general. She was coming to realize that not all of them were horrible, and since he’d spent years hoping to achieve the status of true gentleman, which would only be firmly cemented in society after he married, it was her job as his friend—and yes, they were still friends, the closeness they’d once shared still there, although not as strong as it had once been—to advise him accordingly. The idea of helping him choose a suitable lady, though, left her feeling rather nauseous, an unexpected feeling to say the least, and one she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on.
Drawing in another breath, she forced the next words from her mouth before she could come up with a million reasons to stop them. “I believe the only solution is to have Mrs. Kaffenburgh return to the city. That way we’ll know for certain what will happen if the sparkly toy is once again dangled in front of ladies you’re considering marrying. We’ll also know which ladies are worthy of your efforts.”
“You’d be willing to bring Mrs. Kaffenburgh back?”
“Bringing her back is really the only way we’ll be able to relieve your apprehension in regard to the society ladies you have an interest in. With that said, though, you need to understand that I’ll be completely honest with you about the results of Mrs. Kaffenburgh’s return to society. You may not care to hear my conclusions about the matter.”
“I may not like your conclusions, but I’m certain you’ll advise me well.” Nicholas took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for offering to assist me. I know I haven’t been much of a friend to you since we reunited. I regrettably tried to manage you and came across as an overbearing idiot in the process.”
“You may have been overbearing at times, but I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself with the idiot business.” She smiled and shook her head. “Working in a dress shop, I’ve been privy to many a conversation between young society ladies, and I cannot tell you how many times they’ve chosen a particular color or style of gown simply because one gentleman or another has voiced their opinion about their preferences. After a touch of consideration about the matter, it seems that ladies really are prone to partiality when it comes to a gentleman’s opinion, which means it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to me that you would adopt that same attitude, seeing as how you now embrace that world.”
Nicholas frowned. “I’m not certain I’m still willing to embrace everything about the privileged world I reside in these days.”
She returned the frown. “What do you mean?”
Before Nicholas could explain, Eunice released a sharp whistle and began waving madly toward an approaching carriage. “Ivan just spotted a buggy that has a white dog in it,” she called.
“I almost forgot I’m here on a job,” Gabriella said, snatching up her opera glasses and training them on the buggy Eunice was pointing to. “Interesting. That’s definitely a poodle, and it seems to be wearing a glittering collar—exactly what we’re looking for.”
“You’re searching for a dog?”
“We are. One that’s been taken from its rightful owner.” Gabriella kept the opera glasses focused on the dog for a second, then looked at the young woman sitting on the seat of a pink buggy.
“Is it Miss Carlotta Langtry?” Eunice asked, striding over to rejoin them.
“Hard to know for sure because we only have a vague description of what Miss Langtry looks like—an actress with blond hair.”
“Oh right,” Eunice muttered.
“May I see your opera glasses?” Nicholas asked, taking the glasses Eunice immediately thrust his way. He trained them on the pink buggy. “That’s Miss Langtry all right.”
Gabriella lowered her glasses. “You know Miss Carlotta Langtry?”
“She performs at a theater off Broadway. I saw her show last week.”
“Does she know you?” Eunice asked.
“Not personally.”
“That’s too bad,” Gabriella said before she rose to her feet and tugged Nicholas up beside her. “It would have made this easier. But since we’ve been told Miss Langtry seems to be susceptible to handsome men, I think she’ll stop if you wave her down.”
“You want me to wave her down?”
“If it wouldn’t be too much of a bother. I need to get a good look at that dog in her buggy.”
“It’ll be no bother at all, especially after your delightful handsome remark.”
“Don’t turn smug. It doesn’t become you.”
“There’s that bluntness I’ve not experienced in years.”
Swallowing a laugh, Gabriella tightened her grip on Nicholas’s arm and strode forward. “Remember to smile your charming smile, not your amused one because she might take that the wrong way and refuse to stop.”
“I’m not sure I know how to summon up a charming smile over an amused one.”
“Don’t overthink it, especially since that now has you frowning, which won’t do at all.”
A second later, Nicholas was smiling, but it didn’t look charming or amused, and more along the lines of stilted. Knowing it would have to do because Miss Langtry was almost upon them, Gabriella released his arm.
“Give her a wave to attract her attention,” she said out of the corner of her mouth.
“I know how to attract a lady’s attention.” Nicholas raised his hand in Miss Langtry’s direction. “I have to admit, though, that I don’t understand why you’re interested in her dog.”
“Daphne thinks the husband of the lady who is missing the dog gave it to Miss Langtry as a way to get in her good graces.”
“You think Thomas Goelet gave Miss Langtry his wife’s dog?”
Gabriella frowned. “You know that Thomas Goelet is trying to charm Miss Langt
ry?”
“It’s common knowledge that he bought her that pink buggy, something she’s apparently always wanted but couldn’t afford when she was living on a farm in Ohio.” Nicholas gave another wave when the buggy started turning to the left, and fortunately, Miss Langtry saw that wave. She leaned forward and said something to her driver, who then began steering the buggy their way. A few seconds later, it pulled to a stop.
Trepidation was swift when the poodle sitting beside Miss Langtry immediately curled its lip and set its beady eyes on Gabriella.
“Miss Langtry,” Nicholas said, moving to stand directly beside the buggy, taking the hand Miss Langtry held out to him. “Forgive me for being so bold as to wave you down, but I missed the opportunity of an introduction last week after your performance at the theater. I’m Mr. Nicholas Quinn, and it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Miss Langtry fluttered her lashes and smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.” Her smile dimmed when she looked past Nicholas, her china-blue eyes widening. “Perhaps you should join me in the buggy, Mr. Quinn, because there’s a frightening-looking person dressed in black approaching us.” She leaned forward. “She’s now running our way and holding some type of painting, looking mad as a hatter.”
Gabriella glanced over her shoulder and discovered Eunice lumbering their way, the painting of Precious held under her arm, which went to show that the woman was not accustomed to matters of intrigue because springing the truth on Miss Langtry out of the blue was probably not going to go over well. Delicate matters such as the one Gabriella was going to have to broach needed a bit of finesse.
Before Gabriella could do any broaching, though, or even wave Eunice back, the poodle sitting beside Miss Langtry let out a howl that had the hair on the nape of Gabriella’s neck standing to attention right before it leapt from the carriage.
CHAPTER
Eighteen
“Precious!” Miss Langtry shrieked. “Come back!”
“At least we know we have the right poodle,” Gabriella muttered before she spun on her heel and dashed after the dog, who was bounding away from the buggy as fast as her long, spindly legs would take her.
