To Write a Wrong

by Jen Turano

  “But I couldn’t speak because I was so afraid.”

  Eunice waved that aside with a flick of her black-gloved hand. “You were taken by surprise and overpowered by a man who is almost twice your size. Being afraid doesn’t mean you lack courage, though. Only a courageous person would have the strength needed to continue living a productive life after what happened to you as a child.”

  “Daphne used to ask God all the time to give her courage,” Lydia said, stepping into the room, even though doing so was a clear indicator she’d been eavesdropping at the door. She sent Daphne a small smile. “I made it a habit to listen to your prayers at night. I was hoping you’d disclose something you’d done wrong, something I could have used to get you in trouble with Mother.”

  “Further proof that everyone needs to stop addressing me as the brat of the family,” Daphne said, returning Lydia’s smile before she sobered. “But I did pray that every night—and still do. I’ve never really believed God heard those prayers, or if He did, that He wanted to answer them.”

  “I think, given the life you’ve been able to lead, Daphne, that God heard you,” Eunice said. “I also think He answered your prayers by giving you additional courage throughout the years whenever you were in need of it.”

  “Then how does that explain my frequent swoons?”

  “I’m not a theologian, nor am I an expert when it comes to matters of faith. With that said, and until you can broach this particular matter with a man of the cloth, I assume your swoons are a defense mechanism that allows you to deal with excess anxiety, the root of that anxiety being Thomas’s repulsive behavior toward you.”

  “Even if you’re right, Eunice, and God has given me courage, I don’t believe I’ve been given enough of that courage to ever want to face Thomas again.” She caught her mother’s eye. “Because of that, I’m afraid I’ll have to avoid visiting home often because I don’t want to take the chance of running into the man.”

  “You’ll visit home whenever you please,” Burton said firmly. “I won’t tolerate Thomas Sibley being responsible for my never getting to see my daughter, and you’ll never need to fear he’ll try to contact you again. I’ll take care of him; you have my word on that. In fact, I believe I’ll do that now.” He glanced to Herman. “Did you leave Thomas at the Devonshire ball?”

  Herman ran a hand over his face. “I would imagine he’s taken his leave by now, given that I left him rather bloody. But there’s no need for you to seek Thomas out tonight because I’m meeting him tomorrow . . . at dawn.”

  Daphne’s mouth gaped open. “That almost sounds as if you challenged him to a duel.”

  “That’s exactly what I did.”

  “But why?”

  “I would think that’s obvious. He tried to dishonor you. He needs to pay a price for that.”

  For a moment Daphne couldn’t breathe, or think rationally for that matter, until a single thought suddenly sprang to mind, one she’d been searching for all along but that had eluded her grasp.

  It was little wonder her idea to create the perfect hero from a pirate had been wrong. She’d written her story wrong from the very beginning, because heroes weren’t swashbuckling pirates who went from one adventure to another, experiencing life in a haphazard fashion.

  Heroes were gentlemen who didn’t hesitate to defend a woman and didn’t hesitate to put their lives in jeopardy over a matter of honor.

  Heroes were gentlemen exactly like Herman.

  Her fingers itched for her pencil and notepad so she could right the wrong she’d created, but before she could gather her wits enough to ask someone to fetch them for her, Jack stomped into the library, Arthur, Frank, and Cooper behind him.

  “Bad news on the dueling front, Herman” were the first words out of Jack’s mouth. “Thomas’s father has stepped in and put a halt to everything, saying he’ll notify the police if we try to force Thomas into meeting you at dawn.”

  “How did Thomas’s father get involved in all this?” Burton asked.

  Jack emitted a grunt. “Ralph Sibley was in attendance tonight. He apparently grew concerned when Thomas was missing from the ballroom for so long and went searching for him. He was not pleased to discover his son bleeding and . . .”

  “Being pinned down on the floor by Jack,” Arthur finished when Jack stopped talking.

  Jack shrugged. “He tried to get away as I was questioning him further about what he’d done to Daphne. Since I wasn’t done questioning him, nor did I feel that Herman should be the only one to extract a pound of flesh, I wasn’t willing to let Thomas slither away.”

  “Unfortunately, Ralph Sibley threatened to make a ruckus,” Frank added, shaking his head. “We couldn’t let him do that because questions would then be asked and that wouldn’t go well for you, Daphne.”

  “Jack did punch him, though, right before Ralph hustled Thomas out of the room,” Cooper said. “I was going to use my position as a Pinkerton to detain Thomas and take him in for more questioning, but Ralph put an end to that business since he’s an attorney.” He sighed. “Everyone seems to be an attorney here in Boston.”

  “Ralph ended it because Thomas didn’t do anything that was actually against the law,” Jack said with a roll of his eyes. “I never realized that a man could try to force his attention on an unwilling lady and not suffer any repercussions from it—and I’m one of those Bostonian attorneys, for crying out loud.”

  “That’s just because you didn’t specialize in criminal law, but I could have told you that,” Arthur said. “Women don’t have many, if any, rights when it comes to the law.” He moved across the room to stand in front of Daphne, bending over to place a kiss on her forehead. “You doing all right, brat?”

  Daphne smiled. “I’m fine. Relieved that none of you were injured tonight. Thomas is a large man, and he could have done damage to any of you.”

  Frank jostled Arthur aside, taking his place and giving Daphne a kiss on the forehead, as well. “Thomas is a coward, Daphne. He may be large, but he’s not got an ounce of courage in him, because what he did to you tonight goes far in proving how lacking he is as a man.”

  Her fingers itched once again for her notepad, but the sensation disappeared when Jack took Frank’s place, kneeling beside her. “I have something else to tell you,” he said quietly. “It was Thomas all those years ago, that night when you fainted on the Fourth of July.”

  “I know,” Daphne said. “I remember what happened now.”

  “Can you ever forgive me for not protecting you?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” Daphne said, tears springing to her eyes again when she noticed the anguish in Jack’s eyes. “You couldn’t have known what Thomas wanted to do to me.”

  “I should have known. You were always nervous around Thomas.” The anguish in Jack’s eyes increased.

  “He was your friend, Jack. One doesn’t expect that type of behavior from a friend.”

  “He’s no friend of mine.”

  Daphne glanced around the room, taking in all the pale faces that surrounded her. She swallowed past a lump that suddenly formed in her throat. “I’m sorry about how much trouble I’ve caused everyone this evening. I’m also ashamed to have brought this type of humiliation onto the family.”

  Silence descended over the library until Herman gestured to Jack, who got up to make room for Herman to sit down beside Daphne on the fainting couch.

  “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of,” Herman said quietly. “This is Thomas’s shame, not yours.” He took hold of her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “Because of your work with the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, you have seen some of the worst that men can do to women. And all of those women, if I’m not mistaken, have been led to believe that somehow the damage done to them at the hands of men is their fault. Women, I’m afraid to say, have been taught that if a man makes inappropriate advances, it’s because of something they did—perhaps showing a hint of an ankle or flashing an overly bright smil
e. But that’s not the truth, Daphne. You know it’s not.”

  She swiped at a tear rolling down her cheek. “The rational part of me knows that. But there’s another part of me that believes I was somehow to blame, at least to a small extent.”

  “Thomas—and Thomas alone—was responsible for his actions,” Herman said. “And while I have no idea how just yet, he will pay for what he did to you.”

  “I’ll make certain of that,” Burton said, speaking up. “It’s a delicate matter, though, because we certainly can’t allow Daphne’s reputation to suffer.” He caught Daphne’s eye. “Unfair as it seems, that would happen if word got out you were alone with Thomas. But he won’t get to go on his merry way. If nothing else, I’ll make it impossible for him to achieve those promotions he longs for at his firm. I’ll also take steps to assure he won’t be on the guest lists for any Bostonian society affairs.”

  “Hardly seems like much of a punishment,” Clara said with a sniff. “I still believe Thomas deserves to meet Herman at dawn.” She sent Herman a small smile. “I have a feeling you handle yourself well with a pistol.”

  “It was going to be rapiers,” Herman said.

  Clara’s eyes widened. “You’re proficient with a rapier?”

  “I can hold my own,” he said before he turned back to Daphne. “You must be exhausted. May I dare hope you’ll allow me to convince you to repair to your room for the night? It’s been a troubling evening, and I’m sure you could use some sleep.”

  “I am exhausted,” she admitted, “but I don’t believe I’ll be able to sleep just yet.”

  Herman considered her for a long moment before he got up from the couch, moved to one of the many bookshelves that lined the library, perused the spines, then plucked out a book. As he retook his seat, he said, “How about if I read to you? This book just happens to be a riveting read, one that should distract you from any troubling thoughts that linger in your mind.”

  She glanced at the title of the book and smiled. “It’s one of yours.”

  “Indeed. Why else do you think I said it was a riveting read? But before I begin, allow me to say that I’m delighted to discover one of my books here.”

  “All of your books are here. I send them to my father whenever they release because he’s a Herman Henderson admirer.”

  Herman shot a look to Burton. “You enjoy my work?”

  A smile flickered over Burton’s face. “Well, yes, but I didn’t want to fawn over you. That might have been awkward.”

  “We’re admirers of your work as well, and after tonight’s events, that admiration has now grown to include being impressed with you as a gentleman,” Jack said as Arthur and Frank nodded. “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that your care of our Daphne tonight was extraordinary, and that none of us will ever forget what you did for her or be able to thank you enough.”

  Herman cleared his throat. “I’m certainly no hero, because I’m sure all of you would have done the same if you’d happened upon such a troubling situation. But how about we put all talk of tonight’s troubling events aside? I’m more than happy to have all of you listen as I read.”

  As Herman opened his book, Daphne settled back against the fainting couch, the sound of his voice as he read out loud going far to settle nerves that were still a little ragged.

  The thought sprang to mind when he finished chapter one and began chapter two that he fit in well with her family. Her brothers had stopped giving him the evil eye, her father had been suitably impressed that he’d challenged Thomas to a duel, and Clara and Lydia were watching Herman closely as he read—when they weren’t watching her, of course.

  That she felt more connected to him than she’d ever felt connected to a person in her life, even though she hadn’t known him long, should have concerned her.

  Oddly enough, it didn’t, but that was something she’d need to contemplate further at a later date. For now, she was content to listen to Herman read, finding a sense of peace through the sound of his voice—a sense of peace she’d not truly felt in years.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Six

  “Why did you need to speak with Burton privately before we left Boston?” Cooper asked as he waited with Herman to collect their luggage from Grand Central Depot. “Did it have to do with how Thomas slithered out of the city late last night, probably because he was worried we’d find a way to circumvent his father’s threats and hold that duel after all?”

  Herman took the large trunk that had Daphne’s name stamped on it from a porter and set it aside, turning to take yet another one of Daphne’s trunks, finding himself grateful that it wasn’t winter, like Phillip Villard had mentioned, because they’d then have had to hire a brigade of carriages to get all of Daphne’s trunks home. “Burton and I did speak about Thomas. Neither of us is surprised he disappeared from town, a circumstance I know disappointed Burton after he slipped out of the house last night to have a word, or at least that’s what he claimed he only wanted to have, with Thomas and his father.”

  “It seems Burton is following through on his word to make Thomas persona non grata within Boston society.”

  “Burton’s unquestionably using his influence to make certain Thomas is not included in society events, and I can’t blame him for that. He wants to ascertain other young ladies don’t suffer Thomas’s repulsive attention, although there’s no saying he won’t land on his feet in another city and begin stalking the fair ladies there.” Herman accepted another trunk from the porter that was so heavy he stumbled backward. “What could Daphne possibly have in here?”

  “She mentioned something about borrowing a few of her mother’s romance novels.”

  “By the weight of this trunk, I’m thinking she must have taken half the library.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, given how fond Daphne is of books, but returning to your conversation with Burton. Was there anything else of note the two of you spoke about?”

  “Why do I get the distinct impression you’re fishing for a specific answer?”

  “Because I can’t help but wonder if the conversation traveled into personal territory.”

  “It might have.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. It’s not something I can discuss with anyone other than Burton until after I broach the matter with Daphne.”

  “You’re not going to tell me? I thought we were friends.”

  “You told me you wouldn’t be my friend until after you solved my case.”

  “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” Cooper asked. “I suppose now that we’re back in the city, I’ll have to speed up solving your case so you can tell me your secrets.”

  “Why would you want to know my secrets?”

  Cooper hefted one of Eunice’s trunks onto a cart. “Your secrets, if I’m not mistaken, concern Daphne. Daphne’s a friend of mine. As such, she may seek my counsel at some point regarding you. I’ll be better equipped to lend her that counsel if I know what you’re intending with her.”

  “Which is very commendable of you, but I’m not telling you what I spoke with Burton about.”

  “Did you ask his permission to marry Daphne?”

  Herman arched a brow. “You’re very relentless, but no, and we’re going to leave the conversation at that.”

  “I’m a Pinkerton. I can’t leave a conversation when there are so many unanswered questions.”

  “That’s unfortunate, because until I speak with Daphne, I don’t have any answers for you.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Cooper tossed the last piece of luggage onto the cart, then walked with a porter toward where Daphne and Eunice had secured them transportation for the ride home.

  Striding after Cooper, Herman slowed to a stop when he caught sight of Daphne. She had her ever-handy notepad out, scribbling in it as Eunice directed the porter to put the luggage into a separate carriage.

  That there was simply something about Daphne that fascinated him was no longer in any question. She was u
nique and intriguing, and he couldn’t help but feel oddly thankful that someone had decided to kill him, because if they’d not made that decision, he would have never met her.

  She took that moment to abandon her notepad and lift her head, sending him a smile, which had Herman striding into motion again.

  That Daphne might have lost that smile if he’d not been there to intervene with Thomas sent a sliver of rage running through him, as well as a vow to make certain she was never placed in such a terrifying situation again.

  “You’re looking very fierce all of a sudden,” Daphne said when he stopped beside her. “Is something the matter?”

  “Nothing that a duel wouldn’t have solved.”

  She took hold of his arm. “You’re going to have to let that nastiness with Thomas go. He’s left Boston, and his father certainly isn’t divulging his whereabouts. But if it makes you feel better, I get a great deal of satisfaction knowing his transgressions were brought to light and that you and my brothers drove him out of town.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “But it’ll suffice.” She gave his arm a pat. “What say we get on our way? I know you have writing to catch up on, and I, well, I have your case to solve.”

  “What if we put my writing and my case on hold, if just for this afternoon? I’d prefer to spend the day simply enjoying your company.”

  Pink immediately tinged Daphne’s cheeks. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take an afternoon off, because that sounds delightful.”

  “It does indeed,” Eunice said, stepping up to join them. “And no need to fret that Herman’s case will suffer. I’ll get right to work on it once I reach the boardinghouse. Hopefully Ann will have uncovered some unsavory gossip concerning our list of suspects in the meantime.”

  “I wouldn’t mind hearing what Ann might have uncovered,” Cooper said, helping Eunice into the carriage after Herman got Daphne settled.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Eunice said, lifting up the layers of veils concealing her face and revealing a grin. “Shall we head to the boardinghouse first, then?”