by Jen Turano
“There’s a painting of me and my mother?”
“Indeed, and as I said, it’s spectacular.”
After making arrangements for Mr. Burnham to have her mother’s belongings sent to the boardinghouse, something that had Mr. Burnham quirking a brow but not pressing her, she set up a future appointment with him through his secretary, knowing that when her thoughts settled, there were bound to be endless questions she wanted to ask the man.
After bidding Mr. Burnham a good day, Gabriella walked with Nicholas out of the office, grateful for the arm he’d extended her because she found she was rather unsteady on her feet. After reaching the carriage, Nicholas helped her into it, then sat down beside her and grinned.
“I daresay you have to find your day improving after that,” he said as the carriage rumbled into motion.
“I’m not quite sure how to process the idea of being a wealthy woman.”
“I imagine once you’ve had time to think about it, you’ll realize that your life has just changed—and significantly, at that.”
“My thoughts are too scattered just now, but perhaps after enjoying a nice cup of coffee once we get back to the boardinghouse, I’ll feel more like myself again.”
“Would you mind delaying the coffee until after we fetch Winston? If you’ll recall, Precious was looking pathetic when we left her.”
“I forgot all about poor Precious,” Gabriella said. “So, yes, we need to stop and fetch Winston first.”
Nicholas called through the small window to Gus to drive them to his house before he settled back on the seat and reached for her hand. “Perhaps we should also spend some time discussing a few matters we’ve left unresolved between us.”
“What matters do you want to discuss?”
“I believe our future is at the top of the list.”
She bit her lip. “Much as I hate to say this, I’m not certain that our friendship will be able to survive, seeing as I’m the illegitimate daughter of Chauncey de Peyster, and with how society will certainly learn that fact, given that I have my father’s eyes, even though I apparently look like my mother. Society will not look kindly on you for maintaining a friendship with someone like me.”
To Gabriella’s surprise, Nicholas merely shrugged before he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on it. “I don’t care what society thinks of our friendship, Gabriella, although to be clear, I don’t see us proceeding as merely friends, which means you really are going to have to discontinue your matchmaking efforts on my behalf.”
“You don’t want me to help you select a wife?”
“Did you miss the part where I just said I don’t see us proceeding as merely friends?”
She was suddenly grateful she was sitting down because she was quite certain her knees had just turned a bit weak. “I suppose I did miss that part, but if you don’t want to continue on as friends, what did you have in mind?”
“Something . . . more.”
Her pulse began to race. “More?”
Nicholas leaned closer and his eyes began to twinkle. “Indeed, but because you seem slightly confused, I believe this is where I stop talking and simply show you.”
Her eyes widened. “Show me what?”
The twinkle in his eyes intensified as he drew her close, smiled ever so slightly, bent his head, and kissed her.
CHAPTER
Twenty-Eight
The carriage suddenly stopped moving, interrupting a kiss that left Nicholas convinced without a shadow of a doubt that he was going to marry the woman beside him, a woman who was now looking decidedly mussed.
He glanced out the window, realizing the carriage had stopped in front of his house and that Gus was getting ready to open the door.
He scooted an inch away from Gabriella right as the door opened and Gus stuck his head inside. “It’s starting to snow something fierce. Might be best to not take long fetching Winston because I’m not sure the roads will be passable in an hour or so.”
Nicholas turned to Gabriella as Gus backed out of the door. “Would you care to wait in the carriage?”
Gabriella raised a hand to her hair. “I’ll go with you. I’m fairly certain I could use a trip to your retiring room to set my hair to rights. If you’ve forgotten, I live with numerous inquiry agents. And while all of us are new to the business, it’s likely someone will notice my current state of dishevelment, and that will definitely inspire some questions.”
Nicholas climbed out of the carriage, holding out his hand to Gabriella and helping her to the sidewalk. As Gus headed off for the carriage house to get blanket-coats to put over the horses, Nicholas took Gabriella’s arm as they headed toward the house. “We should probably discuss some answers to questions the ladies are still bound to ask you, even if you do set your hair to rights.” He smiled. “I’m sure they’ll notice that matters have changed between us, because I know it’ll be difficult for me to resist . . .”
The rest of his words trailed off when he realized Gabriella didn’t seem to be paying them any mind, not with the way her attention was settled on something else.
“What is it?” he asked.
She stopped walking. “Something’s wrong. Look, over there.” She pointed to a set of footsteps in the snow that disappeared behind the house. “Think those could be Billie’s?”
“Billie prefers to avoid being out in inclement weather—says it bothers his rheumatism. Besides, after all the unusual events we’ve experienced of late, those footprints were more likely caused by someone who’s not supposed to be near my house.” He looked at Gabriella. “What are the chances of you staying out here while I investigate?”
“Not high.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Nicholas muttered as, together, they followed the footsteps around the house, Nicholas frowning when he noticed they stopped beneath the library window.
That the curtains had been pulled when he always left them open was not a good sign. Raising a hand to his lips, he moved to the back door and turned the knob, Gabriella slipping in before him. He took her hand and headed through the mudroom, stopping in the hallway when she tugged his hand.
“Where is everyone?” she mouthed.
“No idea,” he mouthed back, releasing her hand as he moved on silent feet to retrieve the pistol he kept stashed in the drawer of a side table in the hallway.
Gabriella tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to herself. “Where’s mine?”
He pointed at the ceiling and held up three fingers. “Third floor, bottom of the urn in the hallway.”
Before she could do more than nod, a scraping noise that sounded exactly like the noise made whenever his lower desk drawer opened came through the library walls.
“I’m going in,” he whispered, moving to the door, pistol at the ready. Taking hold of the knob, he turned it, stepped into the room, and immediately caught sight of a man sitting behind his desk, hunched over as he riffled through it.
“Looking for something?” Nicholas asked.
The man’s head shot up, and Nicholas recognized him instantly.
It was none other than Virgil Miskel, the boy Rookwood had felt was such a threat to Gabriella that he’d made the decision to leave her at the orphanage instead of bringing her home.
“Ah, Nicholas,” Virgil drawled. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise? I daresay my informant who told me you were expected to be gone all day is going to wish he hadn’t gotten his information wrong. However, no need for me to fret about that now.” He gestured Nicholas forward with a pistol he’d apparently been holding on his lap. “Please, join me. We have much to catch up on, although I’m just delighted you’re actually speaking to me, since the last time we saw each other you gave me the cut direct.”
“That was not well done of me, and I have no excuse for—”
“Your excuse, I believe,” Virgil interrupted, “was the lovely young society ladies you were with at the time.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you were concerned that they’d sta
rt peppering you with pesky questions if you acknowledged a man like me.”
“It was wrong to not acknowledge you, and—”
Virgil gave a wave of his hand before Nicholas could get out the rest of his apology. “There’s no need for you to beg my pardon, Nicholas. Frankly, I should thank you for your slight, because the anger it evoked was the spark I used to expand my . . . ventures.”
“What ventures?”
“Rookwood never told you what I’ve been up to ever since he tossed me to the streets after we suffered a misunderstanding regarding a neighbor girl who tried to convince him I attempted to force my attentions on her?”
“Rookwood tossed you to the streets?”
“I’m afraid he did, but no need to worry that I may have suffered because of that.” Virgil’s eyes hardened. “I picked myself up and decided it was time for me to form my own enterprise.” He smiled. “I’ve been quite successful over the years, probably because, unlike Rookwood, I collect boys who possess aggressive natures.”
Nicholas frowned. “You started up your own criminal organization?”
“Indeed I did. Rookwood has never approved, but while he keeps a sharp eye on me and my associates, he maintains a certain distance from my organization. Probably because I’ve let him know that I’ll retaliate against him—or more specifically, the brats he takes in.” Virgil settled back in the chair. “But returning to that unpleasant encounter between the two of us, the one where you refused to acknowledge me. While I’m sure you didn’t give me much thought after that day, I began keeping a remarkably close eye on you, taking note of your every accomplishment and biding my time until I could take you down.” He smiled. “Since you came home unexpectedly today, I’m afraid to say that the time has arrived earlier than expected. I’m also afraid that the way I was going to take you down has changed as well, since you caught me in the act.”
“Why would you bother to keep a close eye on me?” Nicholas asked, trying to keep Virgil talking for as long as possible in the hope that he’d figure out a way to disarm the man and, better yet, give Gabriella a chance to get away or find help.
“Because it should have been me who went with Professor Cameron and was given an opportunity of a lifetime.” He gave the pistol a wave. “I mean, granted, it didn’t really come as a surprise that Rookwood sent you away with the professor, considering how much he favored you.”
“Rookwood didn’t favor me.”
“Of course he did.” Virgil tilted his head. “But did you ever wonder why you were the favored one, and why Professor Cameron chose you? Yes, you were always the most liked amongst the other children, and yes, you were an adequate thief. But you never had what it takes to become an extraordinary thief.”
“Perhaps that’s why Professor Cameron chose me.”
“It wasn’t,” Virgil said shortly. “You were given my opportunity because Rookwood encouraged him to do so. I, being a curious sort, overheard the story behind all of that. Perhaps I’ll entertain you with that story before I kill you.”
“We’re both armed, Virgil. I have no intention of allowing you to shoot me.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Virgil looked beyond Nicholas and smiled. “Ah, would you look at that. There’s the delicious Gabriella now, and, oh dear, she’s got one of my boys with a strong hand around her delicate neck.”
Nicholas glanced to the doorway, the blood in his veins turning to ice when he caught sight of Gabriella being marched into the room, a beefy boy holding her around the neck. That the expression in the boy’s eyes was one of anticipation mixed with pleasure did not lend Nicholas hope. He caught Gabriella’s eye, unsurprised to discover not a smidgen of fear in her eyes, only temper.
“Do be a good boy, Nicholas, and set your pistol down. I’ll also need you to give it a nice push in my direction. That’ll lessen the chance you’ll decide to play the hero.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll have Alonzo break her neck right now.”
The casual manner in which Virgil stated that threat had Nicholas bending over, setting his gun on the ground, and then pushing it in Virgil’s direction. As he went to straighten, he caught sight of a nose barely peeping out from underneath the settee by the fireplace, Winston evidently having traded his usual napping spot under the desk for a different location, probably done so that he’d remain undetected in case someone wanted to drag him to see Precious today.
The poor dog wasn’t doing so much as twitching, clearly scared to death that a stranger had stolen into a room Winston considered his safe haven.
Hoping Virgil wouldn’t notice the dog, Nicholas straightened. “There, I’m unarmed. Tell your boy to release Gabriella.”
Virgil shook his head. “Gabriella was always more of a threat than anyone gave her credit for. I doubt she’ll behave if Alonzo releases her, so she’ll stay exactly like that until I decide otherwise.”
“What if a member of my staff walks in? Don’t you think it’ll be difficult to explain why Alonzo looks like he’s about to strangle Gabriella?”
“Your staff won’t be back for a while. I needed them out of the house, so I set fire to a carriage house two blocks away. Everyone in the neighborhood rushed to help extinguish the flames, including your staff.” Virgil turned his attention to Gabriella. “But I’m being rude by not greeting Gabriella properly.”
Virgil rose from the chair, moved around the desk, picked up Nicholas’s pistol, and tucked it into his waistband. He stopped directly in front of her, reached out, then trailed a single finger down her cheek.
Gabriella narrowed her eyes the slightest bit before she, to Nicholas’s concern, smiled. “I’ve always wondered what people meant when they said something made their skin crawl. Now I know.”
“I’m going to revel in breaking that spirit of yours,” Virgil drawled, trailing his finger down Gabriella’s cheek again, an action that sparked rage in Nicholas’s chest. “My original intent was to set you and Nicholas up for a very extended stay behind bars, but now a change of plans is certainly in order.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Virgil,” Gabriella said. “Your original plan, I assume, was to frame Nicholas and me for all the thefts you’ve perpetuated over the past few years as the Knickerbocker Bandit?”
“Did Rookwood tell you that he believes I might be behind the Knickerbocker thefts?”
“You know we went to see Rookwood?”
“I have eyes and ears throughout the city. One of my boys heard that you and Nicholas paid Rookwood a visit late last night, which is why I’ve been forced to step up my plan. I couldn’t be certain Rookwood hadn’t told you his suspicions about me.”
Virgil released a heavy sigh. “As I told Nicholas, Rookwood makes it a point to stay out of my business, but I’m not stupid enough to think he doesn’t keep a vigilant eye on me. That’s why I’m relatively certain he knows I’m the Knickerbocker Bandit, although he hasn’t exposed me, not when he’s so worried about keeping his precious street urchins safe.” He gestured to Nicholas’s desk. “As you can see, I brought a few pieces of jewelry to set Nicholas up. Fortunately for me, even if Rookwood would try to expose me now as the true Knickerbocker Bandit, he still has the reputation of habitual criminal, so it’s unlikely the authorities will put much stock in anything he says.”
Nicholas cocked his head to the side. “How were you able to steal into the homes of the New York Four Hundred without ever getting caught?”
“I had the help of someone who spent a great deal of time lingering outside those homes while he waited for his employer to finish up at one ball after another.”
Understanding struck in a split second. “You got to Fritz.”
“Very good, Nicholas,” Virgil said, his eyes gleaming. “Yes, I got to Fritz. He was always a nervous boy, one you championed. I thought it was amusing to watch how quickly his loyalty to you faded. I was also pleasantly surprised at how competent he was with sneaking into those houses you were wa
ltzing away in, making incredibly detailed notes that assisted me in relieving as many of the New York Four Hundred of their valuables as possible.”
“What did you threaten him with?”
“The lives of his family members. Fritz seems to be unusually attached to his wife and children, so he did as I demanded. He’s apparently fled the city, though, his nerves getting the best of him. He stole a valuable necklace from me the last time he paid me a visit. I imagine he’s since sold that necklace to fund his disappearance, but I’ll find him. No one steals from me. Fritz signed all of his family’s death warrants when he took that necklace.”
“Fritz was always very good at disappearing,” Gabriella said. “If he’s decided to hide his family away from you, I doubt you’ll ever find him. He’s probably already created a new identity for himself as well as taken his family to some obscure part of the country.”
Virgil inclined his head. “Perhaps you’re right, but I’ll still look for him. I don’t want to leave any loose ends about the Knickerbocker Bandit out there, and Fritz definitely knows my secret.” He trailed his finger over Gabriella’s cheek again, then down her arm, his actions leaving Nicholas’s hand clenched. Gabriella merely arched a brow.
“It was you that night at the Fairchild ball, wasn’t it?” Nicholas asked, his mind grasping for things to distract Virgil from the cat-and-mouse game he was playing with Gabriella. “You were in the shadows, watching me, and then you followed Gabriella when she left the ball.”
Virgil turned, no longer touching Gabriella’s arm. “I see no reason to deny that.” He looked back at Gabriella. “You attracted my attention after you interfered when one of my boys went to fetch the Linwood diamonds that Celeste Wilkins paid me to steal and deliver to her. I thought it would be amusing to steal them back from Celeste, so imagine my displeasure when I learned my plan had been disrupted, and then imagine my disbelief when I heard that the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency was responsible for thwarting my plans.” He shook his head. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when I finally found out I could contact the agency through a boardinghouse of all places. To say I was incredulous when I saw you, Gabriella, strolling into that boardinghouse one afternoon, looking far too delicious for your own good, is an understatement.”
