To Write a Wrong

by Jen Turano

  To Daphne’s surprise and delight, the gentlemen turned out to be none other than Herman and Cooper, although what they were doing in Boston was a bit concerning, as well as confusing.

  “This isn’t a bad time, is it, Daphne?” Herman asked as he stopped and glanced around the room, his use of her given name leaving her entire family gaping at him, especially Lydia, who was looking between him and Cooper, her forehead puckered, the expression on her face suggesting she couldn’t comprehend why two such handsome gentlemen had come to call on Daphne.

  That expression had Daphne throwing caution to the wind. She sent Herman a waggle of fingers, which earned her an arch of a brow from him, before she directed the waggle at Cooper, who sent her a grin in return.

  “Poppet, sugar plum,” she exclaimed. “How marvelous to see you in Boston. Whatever are you doing here?”

  “I think she’s channeling Madame Calve again,” Cooper murmured to Herman before he spun on his heel and headed out of the library, his shoulders already shaking.

  As Cooper disappeared through the door, Herman turned a smile on Daphne. “Cooper and I thought you might need a bit of support. We didn’t want to leave you on your own to deal with the repercussions from your publisher because of your work on my case. Charles Bonner was, after all, one of my guests, and I should have realized how put out he was with you and acted accordingly.”

  “How would you have done that?” Daphne asked.

  Herman shrugged. “I should have told him before he and the rest of the authors fled my house on the Hudson that if he didn’t behave himself in regard to you, I would let his little secret out about how he achieves such stellar sales.”

  “You would have threatened him with exposure?”

  “I’m not normally so Machiavellian, but if it would have spared you all the trouble I’m sure you’ve been experiencing since we parted ways, yes, I would have threatened him.”

  Daphne suddenly found herself in dire danger of suffering a few heart palpitations of her own, quite like her mother had claimed to suffer from earlier.

  “I believe that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me, Herman,” she whispered right as her feet, seemingly of their own accord, began moving in Herman’s direction. A blink of an eye later, she found herself standing directly in front of him.

  “Did anyone else just catch that she called this gentleman by his given name or that when he first entered the room she called him either poppet or sugar plum?” she heard Jack ask no one in particular.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Daphne. You’re looking lovely today,” Herman said quietly, his eyes warm and filled with something that had the breath catching in her throat.

  “You’re looking very well turned out as well.”

  “Who in the world is this gentleman?” Lydia demanded, the disgruntled tone of her voice reminding Daphne of the argument she’d not been enjoying with her sister before Herman had made his unexpected appearance.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she found Lydia watching her with disbelief stamped on her face, that disbelief sending a flicker of annoyance through Daphne before she turned back to Herman.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Herman,” she whispered.

  He blinked, just once. “Sorry about what?”

  “Sorry about what I’m going to do next.” With that, she threw caution to the wind yet again, stepped closer to him, took hold of the lapels of his jacket, reached up on tiptoe, and without allowing herself a second to rethink what she was about to do, kissed him.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-One

  “I really cannot beg your pardon enough, Herman,” Daphne said, standing in a dimly lit hallway, though he could still see that her cheeks were decidedly flushed. “The only excuse I have for kissing you in front of my entire family is that I obviously took leave of my senses for a moment. Nevertheless, it was inexcusable for me to do such a thing and has now left you in a most unenviable quandary.”

  Herman took hold of Daphne’s gloved hand. “I don’t think you took leave of your senses, Daphne. I think your sister goaded you into reacting in such an unexpected but, need I add, delightful fashion. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I heard her say right before I entered the room that you were always going to be a confirmed spinster who would never enjoy so much as a kiss with a gentleman.”

  The blush lingering on her cheeks deepened. “You found it delightful?”

  “As delightful as can be expected when one is being kissed by a beautiful woman while an entire roomful of her close relatives looks on.”

  Daphne fumbled with the bag she’d slung over her shoulder.

  “What are you looking for?” Eunice asked, gliding out of the shadows and scaring Herman half to death, a fright she didn’t notice because her attention—or so he imagined, not that he could tell for certain since she was wearing at least four layers of veils—was on Daphne.

  “Smelling salts,” Daphne said briskly. “I fear recent events have left me with a distinct need of a few whiffs.”

  Eunice stepped next to Daphne, pulling Daphne’s hand out of her reticule and giving it a firm pat. “You don’t need smelling salts, even though your shared intimate moment with Herman certainly must have left you rattled. Just not smelling-salt worthy.”

  “I think it was definitely smelling-salt worthy,” Daphne muttered even as she closed her bag and turned to Herman. “However, smelling salt–inducing event aside, I should not have kissed you merely to make a point to my sister, and for that I am sorry. My family is now, of course, expecting you to declare your intentions toward me, but know that there’s no need for you to do that because, well, there’s just not.” Her shoulders drooped. “I’m afraid, though, that you’re in for a rough time of it from my brothers.”

  Cooper stopped trying to shrug into his overcoat and grinned. “Your brothers have already begun trying to intimidate Herman while you were off fetching your bag before we go to your publishing house.”

  “Intimidate how?” Daphne asked, her eyes narrowing behind the thick lenses of her spectacles.

  Cooper’s grin widened. “Jack kindly offered to get in a boxing ring with him, Arthur offered to take him rowing, and Frank, well, Frank was the least subtle of the three and suggested they go out for a . . . how was that he put it? A spot of target practice?”

  Herman returned Cooper’s grin. “With me as the target, no doubt.”

  “Honestly, what could they be thinking?” Daphne asked, releasing a huff. “I’ll have a word with them.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Herman said. “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with your brothers without your interference. Besides, I can’t blame them for wanting to extract a pound of flesh from me. I did, after all, arrive in Boston unannounced, where I proceeded to address you by your given name, and then did absolutely nothing to stop you from kissing me.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her?” Eunice asked.

  It was a question that deserved some contemplation.

  To say he’d been surprised when Daphne had grabbed hold of his lapels was an understatement, but he could have stopped her when he realized what she was intending. Yet . . . he hadn’t wanted to stop her.

  The kiss she’d given him had been fleeting at best, a mere touch of her lips against his. But he’d been thinking of kissing Daphne often while they’d been apart, and he’d been powerless to do anything but allow her what had to be one of the most unforeseen moments of his life.

  She was always doing the unexpected, and he couldn’t deny that he found such unpredictability to be one of the things he enjoyed most about her. She was enchantingly unique, and although they truly had not known each other long, he was determined to convince her they were well-suited and, as such, should make every attempt to become better known to each other.

  He was beginning to hope, given how she had kissed him, that the convincing might not be as difficult as he’d been imagining. Yes, she seemed to enjoy her status of independen
t woman, but he didn’t want to take her independence away from her. Instead, he wanted to—

  “Difficult question, was it?” Eunice asked, interrupting his thoughts, and then causing him to give a bit of a start because she’d somehow managed to sidle right up next to him without him realizing it.

  “Not exactly difficult, but I don’t believe now is the moment to discuss it. Daphne is expected at her publishing house soon, which means we need to get on our way.”

  Daphne consulted the small watch pinned to the sleeve of her gown. “I’m not expected for over an hour at my publishing house. That means I have plenty of time to have a word, or three, with my brothers. It will not serve the situation well if I leave them with time on their hands to plan.” She turned to Herman. “They’ve always been protective of me but have never had an opportunity to turn that protectiveness against another gentleman because I’ve never had a gentleman call on me before.”

  Herman frowned. “What about that Thomas fellow?”

  She waved that off. “He doesn’t count because he never formally called on me. And besides, he’s friends with Jack.” Daphne’s brows drew together. “With that said, though, Jack was unaware that Thomas tried to convince my mother to have me institutionalized. There’s every hope that he’ll now have a talk with Thomas in the not-too-distant future, at which point I can also hope he’ll discourage Thomas from pursuing my sister.”

  “Thomas is pursuing your sister?”

  “Apparently. I told Lydia in no uncertain terms that she was to avoid the man. Lydia’s contrary at times, so I probably shouldn’t have been so forceful. She’s likely to encourage Thomas out of spite, so it’ll be up to Jack to get that disturbing situation in hand.”

  “I don’t believe you’re going to have to seek your brothers out,” Cooper suddenly said, gesturing down the hallway. “They seem to be waiting for you by the front door.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?” Daphne muttered before she took the arm Herman offered her. Together, they strode down the hallway, stopping in front of where Jack, Arthur, Frank, and Burton were waiting by the door, their overcoats already on, as well as their hats.

  Jack drew out his pocket watch. “You’re cutting it somewhat close, Daphne. You said your meeting with your publisher is at noon, and it’s already eleven. Men, I’m sure you realize, don’t care to be kept waiting.”

  “Women don’t care to be kept waiting either, Jack,” she returned.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, nothing. I was just making an observation because far too often men don’t take into consideration that a woman’s time is just as important as a man’s. With that said, though, none of you are coming with me.”

  “We most certainly are coming with you,” Burton countered. “You’re undoubtedly going to be facing an unpleasant and, need I add, daunting situation, and you’ll need our support.”

  Arthur, Jack, and Frank nodded in clear agreement to that, earning a shake of the head from Daphne in return.

  “You’re not coming. I’m already taking Eunice, Herman, and Cooper. I assure you, I don’t need additional support.”

  Jack frowned. “Who, pray tell, is Eunice?”

  Eunice stepped around Herman, earning a widening of the eyes from Jack, a gaping mouth from Arthur, and a touch of a jump from Frank. She glided up to Daphne’s brothers and extended her hand. “Eunice Holbrooke, owner of Holbrooke boardinghouse and partner to Daphne at the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency.”

  Introductions were remarkably swift, and Herman couldn’t help but grin when Daphne’s brothers moved closer to the door, as if they found Eunice rather unsettling, which, in all honesty, she was.

  “We should get going,” Jack said firmly, opening the front door.

  “You’re not coming with me,” Daphne reiterated.

  Jack’s gaze darted to Herman. “I’m not sure I understand why Mr. Henderson gets to accompany you and your own family does not.”

  “He’s a well-respected published author. I thought he’d come in handy because he’s been in the publishing world for years.”

  “Then what about Agent Clifton and Mrs. Holbrooke?” Arthur pressed.

  “They’re going because the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency is still involved with Herman’s case. Someone could very well have followed Herman to Boston. That means we can’t let our guard down, so Eunice and Cooper will be accompanying him on the way, during, and then after my meeting with my publisher.”

  Daphne’s father stepped forward. “You can’t travel about the city in the company of two gentlemen who are strangers to me.”

  “Herman’s a household name, and Cooper’s a Pinkerton agent. There’s really nothing more you need to know about them.”

  Burton crossed his arms over his chest and took to staring at his daughter. A full minute ticked away until Daphne threw up her hands. “Fine. But none of you are going into my meeting with me. You’ll wait in the lobby.”

  “Does Herman have to wait in the lobby?” Frank asked.

  “No, because again, he might be useful. He also doesn’t annoy me the way the rest of you do.”

  Herman grinned, earning a grimace from Jack, who moved up next to his sister, took her arm, and ushered her out the front door.

  Daphne looked over her shoulder. “You may join me in my carriage, Herman, as may you, Eunice, and you, Cooper.”

  Eunice shook her veil-covered head. “I think I’ll ride with Arthur and Frank,” she began, earning wide-eyed looks from Arthur and Frank in return. She gave a wave of her black-gloved hand to Jack. “I have a feeling the ride inside the carriage may get a little . . . contentious.”

  “I believe I’ll join you, Eunice,” Cooper said, trying to hide a grin as he took Eunice’s arm before he nodded to Herman. “I’ll be better able to keep an eye on your carriage if I’m riding behind you.”

  “Excellent point,” Eunice said. “I believe, instead of riding inside the carriage with Daphne’s brothers, I’ll join the driver. That way I’ll be able to keep my pistol trained on Herman’s carriage at all times, as well as be able to keep a sharp eye out for any suspicious behavior.”

  Jack rubbed a hand over his face. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Holbrooke, but I’m not certain I’m comfortable with the idea of you keeping your pistol trained on our carriage. What if you accidently discharge your weapon?”

  “I’ve never accidentally discharged any weapon, and I can hit a target from hundreds of feet away, so if someone would happen to ambush you, I’ll vanquish any threat before you’ll even realize you’re under attack.”

  “How reassuring,” Jack muttered before he tugged Daphne toward one of two black carriages that were waiting at the foot of the sidewalk.

  It didn’t escape Herman’s notice that after Jack helped Daphne into the carriage, he moved aside for his father to climb in, who immediately sat down next to Daphne, a pointed move if there ever was one. Swallowing a laugh, Herman settled on the seat beside Jack, who seemed to be taking up more than his fair share of space on the seat, leaving Herman pressed against the window.

  “Jack . . .” Daphne warned, to which Jack merely smiled and shifted, taking up even more of the seat.

  As the carriage jolted into motion, Herman found himself under the daunting gaze of Burton and Jack, something Daphne evidently realized as well because she let out a huff.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to accompany us. If both of you have forgotten, I suffer from nerves at the best of times, and meeting with a publisher who is certainly put out with me has caused my nerves to suffer more than usual today. It’s not helping my nervous state to watch the two of you try to intimidate Herman.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “First off, your nerves don’t seem all that concerning right now, which suggests you’ve been getting them well in hand. And second, did you ever consider that it might come in handy to have three attorneys and a judge with you, since you’re obviously in breach of your co
ntract?” Jack leaned forward. “If you’ve forgotten, Arthur and I specialize in contracts, while Frank specializes in criminal law and can be counted on to step in if your publisher turns nasty and threatens to sue you.”

  Daphne bit her lip. “I suppose you do have a point about your expertise with contracts, although I’m not certain how much help you’ll be at this point. I am, after all, in breach of my contract and fully expect my publisher to part ways with me.”

  Jack nodded to Burton. “Father is a well-respected judge in Boston. He carries considerable influence. You could use that as leverage to keep writing for them, if that’s something you want to do.”

  “I’m not resorting to threats, Jack. They either want my books or they don’t. It’s as simple as that. If they feel Montague Moreland books will no longer sell because they’re written by—oh, the horror—a woman, they’ll discontinue their relationship with me.”

  “But if that’s not the case, you’re going to need someone to help you negotiate a new contract because you’re in breach of your current contract. That makes it null and void. And before you argue with me”—Jack turned to Herman—“you have an attorney look over your contracts, don’t you?”

  “I do.” He caught Daphne’s eye. “I never sign a contract without input from my attorney, something I recommend you begin doing. And before you think I’m just saying that to encourage your father and brother to discontinue glaring at me, I recommend attorneys to all the writers I know.”

  “I never said I’m opposed to attorneys. I just never considered having my brothers or father look over my contracts because, well, that would mean disclosing my true identity to them.”

  “That’s why they have a thing called client-attorney privilege,” Jack said. “Even with our being related, I’m, by law, not allowed to tell any of your secrets.”

  Daphne blinked. “Would that mean that if you, Arthur, and Frank became my attorneys that you’d then not be able to tell Mother anything I may get up to?”