by Nerys Leigh
Marianne rose from her chair. “Well, I’ll show you to your room upstairs and give you a chance to get settled. Then if you’d like to come back down in an hour or so, we’ll introduce you to your agent and have the ceremony.”
Clara rose from the chair and picked up her carpet bag, again noticing a look that passed between Marianne and Mr. Gordon.
Who was this Tobias she was about to marry?
~ ~ ~
Clara returned to Mr. Gordon’s office an hour later, after changing three times and re-pinning her hair twice. The marriage she was about to enter into would be temporary, and the wedding just a formality, but she still wanted to look her best.
Marianne rose from behind her desk outside Mr. Gordon’s office as Clara approached. “Are you ready?”
She pasted on a smile, ignoring the tiny shiver in her stomach. “I am.”
Glancing back in the direction of the office, Marianne lowered her voice. “I know that Tobias is a little… unorthodox. But if you give him time, you’ll get used to his…” again she paused to search for the right word, “…eccentricities. And he is an outstanding agent.”
“I, um…” Clara struggled for something to say. She wasn’t sure if Marianne was trying to warn her or reassure her. “Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.”
Marianne nodded, smiling. “Good. I’m sure everything will be just fine.” She was lying, but Clara decided not to point that out.
She followed Marianne into Mr. Gordon’s office, her heart thumping at the prospect of meeting her about-to-be husband for the first time.
Except, it wasn’t the first time.
“Maggot man!” Clara winced at her outburst the moment it left her mouth. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say.
Marianne slapped her hand over her mouth with a squeak.
The man Clara had met when she first arrived stared at her from where he stood beside Mr. Gordon by the desk. He frowned for a moment before his brow rose in recognition. “You.”
Mr. Gordon looked between them. “Have the two of you met?”
“When I arrived,” Clara said. “He let me in. There was a small accident.”
“Number eight got caught in her hair,” he said.
It was a couple of seconds before she realized he was referring to the maggot.
Confusion crossed Mr. Gordon’s face. “Uh, well, yes. Miss Clara Lee, this is Tobias Campbell. He’ll be training you for the duration of your first case.”
Clara donned her best smile and walked forward with her hand out. “We weren’t properly introduced. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Campbell.”
“Miss Lee.” Although he didn’t appear unfriendly, no hint of a smile touched his lips as he shook her hand.
His skin was unusually warm and when he let go the air felt cool on her palm. She had the strangest desire to take hold of his hand again.
“I’ll remind you both that this marriage is simply a formality,” Mr. Gordon said, “to protect your reputations while you’re working together. When the case is over, you will be able to have the marriage annulled. Judge Hotchkiss here at the courthouse is fully aware of the situation and he’ll have the papers ready for you to sign when you get back.”
“But you don’t have to,” Marianne interjected. “If you decide you don’t want to by the end, you are perfectly welcome to stay married.”
Confusion crossed Tobias’ face. “Why would we want to do that?”
Marianne sighed and gave Clara a sympathetic look. “Never mind.”
“All right,” Mr. Gordon said, “if you’d both like to face me, we’ll get the ceremony done.”
Married in an office to a man who couldn’t wait to get an annulment wasn’t exactly how Clara had pictured her wedding would be. But if this was what she had to do to realize her dream of becoming a Pinkerton agent, she’d do it.
Facing Mr. Gordon, she lifted her chin and announced, “I’m ready.”
Less than a minute later and it was over. Mr. Gordon had left out all the parts about loving and honoring and cherishing and only being parted by death, so all that left was the ‘do-you-take’s and the ‘I-do’s, and then they were married.
Tobias turned to her and held out his hand. “Miss Lee.” He frowned. “Mrs. Campbell.”
Mrs. Campbell. It sounded strange.
Clara placed her hand in his. “I think it would be all right if you called me Clara, at least while we’re married.”
He nodded seriously. “I can see the sense in that. Clara, then. And I suppose you should call me Tobias.”
He gave her hand a firm shake. Again, she had the oddest urge to hold on to him when he released her.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I have a lot to do before tomorrow.”
With a nod to Marianne and Mr. Gordon, he strode from the room.
Clara watched him leave in stunned silence. She had expected to have at least a few minutes to get to know her new husband. “Is he always like that?”
Marianne placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure he’ll be better once you’re on the case.”
Clara didn’t even have to see her face to know she didn’t at all believe what she said.
But it didn’t matter. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was make the best of a bad situation. She was good with people. She would get Tobias Campbell to open up to her.
He was her husband, after all.
He’d have to talk to her at some point.
Chapter Three
Tobias sat at the tiny desk in his tiny bedroom and stared at his latest batch of lucilia sericata larvae.
Numbers one through five were already pupating. He’d have to remind Archie to keep an eye on them so he could release the adult flies when they were ready, and also make sure he knew where to note down the exact time they began to emerge, although Archie wasn’t always the most reliable in that respect so maybe he should ask Marianne to remind him and how could he be married?!
Groaning, he pulled the spectacles from his face and dropped his head into his hands.
What in the world was he going to do? He wasn’t in the slightest bit prepared for a wife.
He’d counted it a blessing to be away from the office on assignment when the first round of Archie’s new female recruits arrived. Not that he’d expected their lead agent to pair him with a woman. Archie knew him too well for that.
At least, that’s what Tobias had thought.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered the possibility that he would one day get married, but he’d be ready by then. He’d have months, if not years, to prepare during their engagement. He’d get to know her, formulate a plan for their lives, schedule their days so he had time for her and his work.
And he’d choose a woman who approached life with the same sober temperament he did. That was very important.
Granted, having a wife in this instance was only temporary, but he had no idea how he was going to deal with her. Solving crimes was a serious business, one he was completely dedicated to, and he was good at it. Most women, in his admittedly limited experience, were frivolous creatures, always interested in some frippery or other and completely unsuited to the business of catching criminals. Apart from anything else, they needed protecting. How could he dedicate himself to the case and protect his new wife at the same time?
Even worse, they were a distraction. He didn’t like distractions. And Clara, with her shining dark brown hair and soft blue eyes, was very distracting. She was too pretty.
He shouldn’t even have noticed how pretty she was.
Why Archie thought having female agents was a good idea, Tobias couldn’t fathom. Had he lost his mind?
Then there was the fact that Tobias didn’t work well with others. He’d even been given his own room in the building in which all the agents slept, after there’d been complaints about the odor of the chemicals he often used in his work.
And then there were the maggots. Those never went down well.
This wasn’t going to work. It simply wasn’t. He’d just go downstairs, hope Clara was elsewhere, and tell Archie he couldn’t do it.
Except he’d tried that repeatedly in the past few days since Archie had told him he’d have to marry this woman, so many times he’d lost count. And every time, his impeccable logic and increasingly more desperate arguments had fallen on deaf ears.
What on earth was he going to do?
Releasing a long breath, he lifted his head and replaced his spectacles.
This was all just a part of the job. He’d faced worse things in his life than having a wife.
He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out several sheets of paper. Writing always helped him to focus when a problem distracted him. His mother had taught him that when he was very young. He hadn’t had to do it in several years, not since he’d left the police force to become a Pinkerton agent, but if there was ever a need for focus, this was it.
Now what should he write?
He thought for a while before an inspired idea came to him. He’d write out instructions for Clara’s training, detailing all the aspects she’d need to know to be a Pinkerton agent. That way, while they were working on the case she’d also be able to study. And the genius part of it was, if she was studying, he wouldn’t have to interact with her.
Smiling at his inspired idea, he began to write.
Chapter Four
“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” Marianne said with an entirely unconvincing smile.
Clara hadn’t seen her new husband since the marriage ceremony the previous day. She was beginning to think he’d run away.
From the nervous way in which Marianne glanced at the front door, she was thinking the same thing.
Clara smoothed down her jacket. “How do I look?”
Marianne smiled again, more genuinely this time. “Beautiful. Tobias is a lucky man. He’ll be here.” Her smile turned to one of relief as she looked past Clara to the door. “And here he is.”
She turned to see Tobias through the window beside the door, walking up the stairs to the porch outside. He carried a carpet bag in one hand and his box of maggots in the other.
She rushed to open the door for him. He walked halfway in, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw her.
He blinked and swallowed. “Thank you. And good morning, Clara.”
She tried out her best smile on him again. “Good morning, Toby.”
A slight frown appeared between his brows. “It’s Tobias.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever called you Toby? Even when you were a child?”
“No.” He walked past her to Marianne, placed his carpet bag onto the floor, and withdrew a sheet of paper from his pocket. “I’ve written instructions on how to take care of the larvae and what to note about their progress. I’d be grateful if you could remind Archie to keep them to the letter. My research depends on it.”
Marianne took the paper and backed away from him, her horrified gaze on the glass vials. “Just put them down over there.” She indicated a small table beside the door. “I’ll tell Archie to come and get them.”
“But you’ll make sure he looks after them?” he said, placing the box carefully onto the table. “They’ll need feeding at midday.”
“I promise. Your maggots will be just fine. With Archie. And nowhere near me.”
“Thank you.” Picking up his bag, he cast a final look at the box before walking to where Clara stood. He bent to pick up her carpet bag. “We can go now.”
She threw a look back at Marianne as she followed him and Marianne shrugged and smiled.
Clara couldn’t help wondering just what she’d gotten herself into.
~ ~ ~
There was a carriage waiting for them outside and twenty minutes later they were at the station. Toby bought their tickets for Cheyenne and they found a bench on the platform to wait.
Clara had decided during the ride to think of him as Toby. Tobias was too stuffy and formal. Admittedly, so far he had lived up to that impression, but she was determined that would change.
As soon as they were seated, he took a book from his bag and began to read.
Clara leaned forward to read the title on the spine. “Advanced Forensic Science by Thomas Grissom. What’s forensic science?”
“The sciences in regard to crime and the law.”
“You mean using science to catch criminals and solve crimes?”
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
“Examination of the crime scene, photography, autopsy if it’s a murder, fingerprinting.” He didn’t raise his eyes from the book as he spoke and she got the impression he was reading at the same time.
“What’s fingerprinting?”
Finally looking up, he took her hand.
Her heart gave a little jolt.
He straightened her index finger and held it beside his own. “Take a look at the ridges on our fingertips. What do you see?”
She leaned over to study them up close. “The patterns are different.”
He released her hand. “Everyone’s fingerprints are different, as far as I know, even identical twins. They’ve been used in identification for thousands of years, either by pressing the finger into clay or coating the finger with ink and using the subsequent print as a signature, of sorts. When we touch things, the oil on our skin leaves a print. I’m sure you’ve seen it on a mirror or glass.”
She was intrigued. “I have.”
“If we can capture a print from a crime scene, we know that the owner of that print was there, even if they say they weren’t. It’s not something that’s used right now, but I’m convinced it would be a valuable advantage in investigations. I’m researching ways to capture prints from surfaces.”
“To be able to prove a person was somewhere after the fact would be a big help when trying to convict criminals.” She could think of at least five instances where she could have used that technique to good effect.
“I agree. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much support for it. But I believe that one day fingerprinting will be widely used.” Although he still appeared serious, his passion for the subject lit up his eyes. “The world of forensic science is only now beginning to open up. There is so much more to discover.”
She smiled at his enthusiasm. “You love all this, don’t you?”
He lowered his gaze to the book in his lap. “I take my job very seriously.”
She got the feeling he wasn’t always respected for his views. She knew what that was like.
She touched his arm. “I think it’s exciting. The more we can do to catch criminals, the better. I’d really like to know more.”
He raised his eyes to stare at her, as if he didn’t quite believe she was being truthful. Then slowly, the tension in his jaw softened. “I’d be happy to teach you. I–”
His gaze suddenly darted to the side. Movement caught her eye.
Before she could react, his hand shot up in front of her face and a ball smacked into it.
A young boy ran up to them, his eyes round. “How did you do that?”
“Practice.”
A woman rushed up to them. “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No, we’re fine,” Clara said, willing her heart to slow.
“I’m so very sorry.” She raised her eyebrows at her son. “What do you say?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you there.”
Toby handed the ball back to him. “Awareness of your surroundings is a valuable skill to cultivate.”
“Will it help me catch a ball like that?”
“It might.”
Looking around him with exaggerated care, the boy walked away with his mother.
“How did you catch that ball?” Clara said, once they’d gone. “I barely even saw it coming.”
“As I said, practice.”
“You play ball games?” Somehow, it didn’t seem like something her intensely serious new husband would do.
“Not on purpose.�
� His gaze flicked to her then back to the book in his hands. “When you’re young and wear spectacles and spend more time on academic pursuits than sports or girls, you become a target. I learned early on that being able to defend myself was a necessity.”
Even though they’d really only just met, the thought of him being bullied saddened her. “I’m truly sorry. And thank you. I don’t think a bloody nose would look good on me.”
He raised his eyes again, studying her face as if judging whether or not she was right. Then his gaze moved beyond her. “The train is here.”
She gasped in a lungful of air. When had she stopping breathing?
He rose and offered her his hand as the train pulled alongside the platform. She slipped her fingers into it to stand, regretting not taking her time over the process when he let go to pick up their bags.
Really, why were his hands so warm?
~ ~ ~
Once settled in their seats on the train bound for Cheyenne, Toby handed Clara a folder.
“This is our assignment. You can familiarize yourself with the details over the four days it will take us to travel to New York. By the time we get there, you should know the case thoroughly.”
The first thing she saw when she opened the folder was a painted portrait of a beautiful young woman with light brown hair and amber eyes. But despite her natural curiosity wanting to know who she was and what she had to do with their assignment, Clara closed it again and placed it on the seat beside her.
“It’s important you know every aspect of the case before we get there,” Toby reiterated.
“I’ve got four days. I don’t have to read it right now.” She crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap, giving him her full attention. “I thought we could get to know each other, seeing as we’re married.”
“Only until the case is over. I don’t think there’s any need to become overly acquainted. Our time would be better spent on the assignment.” He pulled another folder from his bag and handed it to her. “I’ve also written out several lessons on what you’ll need to know about being a Pinkerton agent. You should study those too.”
