by Jen Turano
“There was no letter from you when I returned,” Mr. Victor shot back.
“I certainly don’t know what to tell you about that, but . . . if you didn’t receive my letter, how did you discover that I’d taken the children to New York, and then here to Newport?”
“It was not without difficulty,” Mr. Victor admitted. “After stopping in at my office, where I immediately discovered all of Fred’s ledgers missing, I hurried to Fred’s home, stunned to find the house closed up and seemingly abandoned. I looked through a window that hadn’t been fully obscured by the drape and was horrified to see all the furniture covered in linen.” He blew out a breath. “One of Fred’s neighbors, apparently the suspicious sort, confronted me, and it was through that man that I discovered Fred had died.”
“That must have made for quite the shock,” Millie said.
“I was completely stunned, heartbroken over the loss of my good friend, and . . . confused beyond belief when the neighbor told me that you, Mr. Mulberry, instead of keeping the children in Boston, had taken them back to New York with you.”
“I live in New York,” Everett said. “Taking the children with me was my only option.”
“You should have kept them in Boston.”
“As a businessman, I’m sure you understand, given that most of my extensive real estate investments are in New York, why I moved the children there.”
“And those extensive real estate investments are exactly why Everett doesn’t need to get his hands on Fred’s money,” Millie added with a nod. “Which puts your interest in Fred’s money in question again, Mr. Victor.”
“I don’t need Fred’s money either, Miss Longfellow.”
Before Millie could question Mr. Victor further, the door to the storage room burst open. Standing in the doorway was none other than Caroline, her expression livid as she set her sights on Everett and marched into the room.
“So the rumors swirling around Newport are true. You’ve been in a brawl, and done so right in front of our friends.” Caroline stalked closer to Everett, coming to a stop directly in front of him. “Did you even consider the embarrassment you were going to cause me before you so foolishly engaged in a fight?”
Everett narrowed a black eye on Caroline. “I’m afraid those thoughts never entered my head, my dear, considering I didn’t have much time to think about anything once Mr. Victor attacked me.”
Letting out a sniff, Caroline looked to Mr. Victor before returning her attention to Everett. “You couldn’t have been taken completely by surprise, given the condition of that gentleman’s nose.”
“I was responsible for the nose, Caroline,” Millie said.
Caroline drew herself up. “Do not presume to address me so informally, Miss Longfellow, but . . . surely you’re not suggesting you were brawling as well, are you?”
“I couldn’t very well just stand by and watch Everett get smashed over the head with a pitcher of water now, could I?”
“Ladies should never . . . brawl. It’s unseemly.”
“Then it’s a good thing you weren’t here, Miss Dixon, or else Everett might no longer be in possession of his wits.”
“My head appreciates your interference, Millie,” Everett said, his words having Caroline immediately looking his way again.
“I simply don’t understand what could have possessed you to engage in a rowdy round of fisticuffs while our friends were trying to enjoy a peaceful respite.”
“I didn’t intend on entering a brawl when I got up this morning, and the brawl happened in a private dining room, not the public one.” Everett nodded to Mr. Victor. “He attacked first, and all because he believes it’s his right to take the children away from me to live with him.”
Caroline’s eyes grew round before she actually smiled at Mr. Victor. “Those are marvelous words to hear, sir, but . . . why in the world would you want those children?”
“He’s not taking the children,” Everett said before Mr. Victor could answer her. “Fred clearly left the care of his children to me, which means Mr. Victor has no right to them.”
“That still remains to be proven,” Mr. Victor said.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Duncan Victor, would you?” Caroline asked as she began walking closer to him.
“I am Mr. Duncan Victor.”
For some reason, Caroline looked absolutely delighted to hear that. “But Mr. Victor, our families have been introduced before, although it’s been a few years. I’m Miss Caroline Dixon, of the New York Dixon family.”
She sent Everett a frown. “Why would you punch—or allow Miss Longfellow, from the sound of it, to punch—a gentleman who comes from one of the oldest and most distinguished families in Boston?”
“You know Mr. Victor?” Millie asked slowly.
“I thought I made myself clear, Miss Longfellow. I don’t want you to address me further, but yes, I know Mr. Victor, only as a slight acquaintance, of course, but . . .” Caroline smiled at the gentleman in question. “You actually want to take Fred’s children?”
“Of course I want to take them, but . . . it remains to be seen whether or not I will be given that privilege. Mr. Mulberry told me Fred left a will that’s dated after the one I have in my possession, so . . . I’ll need to see that new will, and then . . . we’ll go from there.”
Caroline gave an airy wave of her hand. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” She turned and arched a brow at Everett. “Will it, darling?”
Millie watched as Everett simply sat there for a long moment, looking at Caroline as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns on her head.
“You want me to just hand the children over to Mr. Victor?” he finally asked.
“That would solve all of our problems very nicely indeed.”
“For some reason, I don’t believe it will.” Everett glanced to the door. “But since it does appear as if the authorities have arrived, why don’t you meet me back at Seaview in an hour or two? We’ll discuss everything then.”
“If you’d have bothered to check your schedule, you’d know you’re supposed to be dining with me this evening at Mr. and Mrs. Olmsted’s cottage.”
“Besides the fact that I’m not in any condition to dine out this evening, I was under the belief that our plans had been canceled since you’re put out with me again.”
“I don’t need to be in accord with you in order to enjoy dinner with good friends, Everett,” Caroline said. “But since you obviously don’t want to escort me, I’ll have Dudley step in, something he’s been gracious enough to do numerous . . .” Caroline’s words trailed off as a man in uniform stepped into the room.
After introducing himself as Officer Peterson, he walked over to Everett, pulled out a knife, and before Millie could so much as gasp, sliced it through Everett’s bindings before he did the same to Mr. Victor.
“Begging your pardon, gentlemen, but the manager here has decided he does not want to press charges against the two of you, so you’re both free to leave.” He turned to Millie. “You, however, miss, are going to accompany me down to the station.”
“You’re . . . arresting me?” Millie breathed.
Officer Peterson nodded. “From what numerous members of the Casino have stated, you’re responsible for the mayhem that recently occurred. You were also responsible, from what I’ve been able to gather, for another troubling incident that happened here just over a week ago.” He shook his head. “We don’t tolerate mayhem here in Newport, miss, so . . . I’m taking you in.”
Everett rose to his feet and moved to Millie’s side, taking her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Miss Longfellow was in no way responsible for what recently transpired here, which means you have absolutely no grounds for an arrest.”
“Everett, don’t be ridiculous,” Caroline snapped. “Of course Miss Longfellow should be arrested. She admitted to punching Mr. Victor in the nose, and I still bear the marks of her assault on me.” She lifted up her hat and showed Officer Peterson her forehea
d where just the faintest trace of a bruise remained. “Shall I give you a statement now, or would it be possible for me to do that at a later date since I do need to get on my way to prepare for a dinner party I’m attending tonight.”
“Being hit in the head with a tennis ball hardly constitutes assault, and it is certainly no reason to have someone arrested,” Everett said between teeth that seemed to be clenched.
“I have no idea why you’re constantly taking her side,” Caroline said right before she threw herself into the nearest chair and began sobbing . . . enthusiastically.
“Since I see no valid reason to arrest anyone today, I’ll just bid all of you farewell,” Officer Peterson said right before he bolted from the room, followed by the burly man who’d been guarding everyone.
Sending Millie a look filled with clear exasperation, Everett moved closer to Caroline and knelt down beside her. “Caroline, there’s no need for such dramatics.”
Caroline raised her head, yet oddly enough, there was not a single tear on her face. “No need for dramatics? You’ve caused us to become the source of rabid speculation by escorting Miss Longfellow and Miss Plum to this establishment, embarrassed me to no small end by getting into a fight, and . . . I have no idea how I’m going to be able to face all of our guests in just two days’ time at the ball you and I, if you’ve forgotten, are hosting together.”
“Perhaps we should consider canceling the ball,” Everett said softly.
In the span of a split second, Caroline’s eyes turned dangerous. “We will consider no such thing. I’ve worked for years to build up my position within society, and this ball . . . our ball . . . is what is going to cement that position for me. That you could even suggest such a thing is completely unacceptable, and . . . you’ve made me promises, promises I’m going to demand you honor.”
She let out a laugh that sounded anything but amused. “I have been the most sought-after lady within society for years, yet I gave you the privilege of attaching your name to mine. You will not abandon me now, especially not for . . .” She turned her head and pinned Millie with a glare that was so hot Millie could almost feel the heat from it even though she was standing several feet away from Caroline.
Drawing in a deep breath, Caroline turned back to Everett. “You’ve made some grave errors in judgment these past few weeks, my darling, but now it’s time for you to do what’s right for both of us.”
“It’s only a ball, Caroline.”
“It’s not, and you know it.”
Everett reached out and put a finger under Caroline’s chin, raising it so that she was forced to meet his gaze. “Considering the strife between us at the moment, the ball is not going to be the crowning moment of the season, and I wouldn’t count on any surprise announcement at the conclusion of it.”
Prickles of something alarming shot down Millie’s spine when Caroline’s lips thinned as she stared at Everett for what seemed like forever.
Then, to Millie’s surprise, Caroline smiled rather sweetly at Everett, pushed herself up and out of the chair, and headed for the door, turning when she reached it. “Of course there will be a surprise at the end of the ball, darling, and shame on you for saying differently.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed through the door, the distinct sound of her laughter trailing after her.
16
I had no idea, Everett, when your mother asked me, along with Reverend Gilmore, to track you down, that our tracking would culminate with finding you hiding in the dark depths of the Reading Room, buried behind a newspaper.”
Folding the newspaper over the copy of Pride and Prejudice he’d been trying to discreetly read, Everett lifted his head and found his father staring back at him.
“Have you forgotten that you’re hosting a ball in only a few hours’ time?” Fletcher asked as he lowered himself into a chair right beside Everett.
“I’m hardly likely to forget that, since I was woken up this morning at a completely unacceptable hour by Miss Pickenpaugh and ordered to either stay out of her way, or roll up my sleeves and help with the preparations.”
“And I take it you decided there was something wrong with rolling up your sleeves?” Fletcher asked.
“Since I’m paying Miss Pickenpaugh a small fortune to organize what I’m firmly coming to believe is a disaster in the making . . . yes, I had a problem with the idea of being put to work. Did you mention something about Reverend Gilmore?”
“He’ll be along directly. We ran into Millie, Lucetta, the children, and those adorable, yet incredibly misbehaving, puppies wandering down this very street. Reverend Gilmore is speaking with them now, but I’m sure he won’t be long.” Fletcher smiled. “Thaddeus still seems a little fascinated over some story you told him about this particular club. For some reason, he asked me if I thought Chip, his puppy, would be large enough to ride by next summer.”
Everett settled back in the chair. “He’s talking about the story I told him about how the Newport Casino came to be—the one that had Captain Candy riding his horse into this very establishment.”
Everett smiled and shook his head. “It’s probably a good thing that—what with the way this summer season is shaping up—I’m not all that keen about returning to Newport anytime soon. Although, considering the reputation I’ve been gaining of late, I don’t think anyone would be too surprised if one of my wards tried to ride a dog into the Reading Room. I have to say, though, considering Thaddeus’s fascination with this place, I’m surprised you didn’t bring him in here with you.”
“I extended the darling boy that very offer, but Thaddeus thinks it’s not fair his sisters, or Millie and Lucetta, aren’t allowed in here. That’s why he’s manfully trying to suppress his curiosity.” Fletcher laughed. “I’m not certain about this, but I think Millie might have tried to sneak a peek in one of the downstairs windows, because she had telling flower petals on her clothing, petals that just happen to match the bushes surrounding this place.”
“Her curiosity is going to get her into real trouble someday.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but it was a stroke of genius on her part to get the children and puppies out of the house, since Caroline seems to be in quite the state today.”
“Why in the world would Caroline be in any type of state at all? She’s getting exactly what she wanted—the ball of her dreams to impress her friends. And because Miss Pickenpaugh brought in an entire army of people to set up and staff the ball, Caroline really doesn’t have to do much of anything.”
“She decided at the last minute there needed to be more impressive gifts to give the guests.”
“I thought the plan was to give the ladies fans and the gentlemen handkerchiefs.”
“You still will be giving those out, but Caroline wanted something a little . . . grander, and something that would leave a lasting impression after the ball is over.”
“Do I even want to know what that ‘something grander’ is?”
“Since you’re footing the bill for this added touch, you should want to know.”
Everett closed his eyes. “Go on then, tell me what I’m paying for.”
“To give Caroline credit, it’s a very clever idea, although costly, and the sheer stress of pulling this daunting feat off properly is sure to leave Miss Pickenpaugh with a nervous condition for the rest of her life.” Fletcher cleared his throat. “You’ll be pleased to learn that every guest will be given a children’s pail, filled with sand.”
Everett’s eyes shot open. “That doesn’t sound as if it will be too costly.”
“In that sand is a miniature shovel,” Fletcher continued. “That shovel has been placed at a precise angle, something Reverend Gilmore can attest to since he got coerced into placing those shovels just so before I dragged him after you.”
“Why is there a miniature shovel in all the pails, and why was it so important that it has to be placed so precisely?”
“The placement is, of course, for effect, but the shovel will be used
to help your guests dig up the trinkets Caroline had sent over from . . . Tiffany’s.”
Everett sat straight up in the chair. “She ordered trinkets for over two hundred guests from Tiffany’s?”
“I’m afraid she did. Jeweled combs and bracelets for the ladies, and jeweled stick pins and small snuff boxes for the gentlemen.”
“I have half a mind to refuse to pay the bill and make her pay it instead.”
“You and I both know you can’t do that, no matter how wrong Caroline is about the matter.”
Everett raised a hand and began rubbing at an ache that was developing behind his temple. “She must still be very annoyed with me regarding the brawling incident.”
“Of course she’s annoyed with you, and not only about the brawling, if I were to hazard a guess.”
“She has nothing else to be annoyed about.”
“There is Millie,” Fletcher said slowly.
“You mean the woman who has been deliberately avoiding me ever since the brawl?”
“Your mother thought something was amiss between the two of you.”
“Well, she’s right, but as for what that something is, I certainly don’t know.” He slouched down in the chair. “Millie’s odd behavior began when we walked through the Casino after the unfortunate brawling incident to get to my buggy.” A trace of temper shot through him. “All of the members of the Casino were gawking at us as we walked, sending Millie, Lucetta, and me looks of what can only be described as disdain. And . . . the society ladies were tittering behind their gloved hands, some of those titters rather loud, and none of them very kind in regard to Millie or Lucetta.”
“Do you think Millie’s upset because you did nothing to stop the tittering?”
“I told the crowd to mind their own business, which didn’t go over very well, since they started tittering about me—and nothing pleasant, I must admit. But, instead of appeasing Millie, my attempt at protecting her and Lucetta from the harsh words seemed to aggravate her.”
“Hmmm. . . . Well, good for you for making a stand, but as for why that would aggravate Millie, I must confess myself a bit perplexed.”
