The Mail-Order Brides Collection

by Megan Besing

  The warmth of a June night in New Orleans enveloped them as May stepped aside to allow Detective Bingham to join her on the small balcony. Wrapped in lacy black wrought iron from the rails to the trim, the space hovered over a lush garden that included a fountain much like the one at the safe house.

  “I am curious about one thing,” he said when the curtains closed behind them. “What did my sister say to convince you to follow her here?”

  “That you would be joining us shortly and that this was the home of old family friends,” she told him even as she questioned whether she should have come here at all. “I’ve been had, haven’t I?”

  He looked down at her, his face surprisingly gentle. “We’ve been had, Deputy Detective Conrad. But don’t feel bad. My sister is quite good at what she does.”

  “And what does she do?”

  Matchmaking, he should have told her. Instead, he went with his second choice of response. “Stella is very good at getting people to do what she wishes. However, she also is very good at getting information about people. And that is exactly what you and I need to solve this case.”

  Jeremiah determined to keep his thoughts on a professional level. This was, to his own credit, a woman he’d called his deputy. And yet when he’d seen her across the room all dressed up in his sister’s blue gown with his mother’s sapphires around her neck, his breath had quite literally been stolen from him.

  The deputy had become a thief, and for a moment he thought of rewarding her with a kiss. The idea startled him. In an instant he came up with an excellent argument against it, and an even better argument for it.

  She leaned in, keeping her voice low. “So you think your sister can help us find the Baronnes?”

  Good sense returned. He shrugged off the insanity of his thoughts to give her the proper response to her question.

  “We’re no longer looking for Mr. and Mrs. Baronne. They were found at an apartment on St. Ann this afternoon and are in custody, which is why I was not there to meet you at seven. Officers were working to open a safe in the apartment when I left.”

  “I do hope everything is there so it can be returned,” she said with a smile that melted his heart. “That would make an excellent conclusion to the matter, don’t you think?”

  She looked so hopeful, so lovely in the moonlight. He hated to tell her the rest of the story.

  “They did not act alone,” he told her. “This assignment has become more dangerous than expected, so I’m going to have to take back your deputy status.”

  Miss Conrad took a step backward, anger flashing in those beautiful jade-colored eyes. “You will do no such thing,” she snapped, her voice quiet but firm. “I will see this to the end, either in partnership with you or alone.”

  Jeremiah gave her an appraising look, noting the flush in her cheeks. “All right, then, Deputy Detective Conrad, enjoy your evening, because tomorrow we leave for Texas.”

  She shook her head. “Why Texas?”

  “If Fleurette Baronne is to be believed, the Baronnes answer to a man named Sebastian Thomas whose crimes reach beyond marriage fraud. We can find him in Galveston.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “In her affidavit, she gave the police the name.” He paused to look around. “And she says you can identify him.”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “I highly doubt that. I rarely met any of her visitors.”

  “Apparently you met this one.” He pressed his finger to her lips to quiet her. “This discussion can wait until tomorrow, Deputy. Tonight we pretend to like each other so you are not bothered by Henry Montgomery.”

  She grinned up at him. “Does that mean we must dance?”

  “Only if you wish,” he said, returning her smile.

  “I think it would help keep up pretenses, don’t you?” She paused to drum her fingers on the iron rail before looking back up at him. “And I am surprised to admit I quite like it.”

  “Dancing? You mean you’ve never…”

  “Danced?” she supplied. “With my feet firmly atop my father’s in the safety of our parlor, yes. In public at an event such as this? Never.”

  “Then I am disappointed that Henry Montgomery was the man who made dancing possible for you.” He offered her his arm, reminding himself that he must walk a tight line between keeping May Conrad safe and falling in love with her. “I will make it my business to be the man who made dancing memorable for you.”

  Her laughter followed him back into the ballroom where he held May Conrad against him and showed her just how dancing could be. They danced every dance, and by the end of the evening, when he walked ahead of Miss Conrad and his infuriating sister to the carriage, Jeremiah had lost track of just who was making memories for whom.

  “Thank you for making our little party the talk of New Orleans,” Gennie Montgomery told him as he offered his good-byes. “Who would have thought that the great Jeremiah Bingham would be felled by a nobody?”

  He spied Miss Conrad walking toward them, and anger rose. “I assure you she is not a nobody.”

  “Well no, of course not,” she said, eyes wide. “I find her, well, delightful. And I am so happy for you.”

  Miss Conrad joined them and offered Gennie a smile. “Thank you so very much for your hospitality. I have never danced like I did tonight.”

  “Nor have I,” Jeremiah said as he linked arms with his deputy. “We’re going now, Stella,” he called to his sister.

  “You two go ahead. I’ll be right out.”

  Jeremiah led her to the carriage and helped her inside then closed the door and took a seat across from her. The silence enveloped them, as did the faint scent of lavender.

  “Detective Bingham, I know I am supposed to be on duty, but I had such a wonderful time tonight.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and giggled. “I danced, can you believe it?”

  “First, if we are going to work together, I insist you call me Jeremiah.”

  She smiled. “Only if you will call me May.”

  “Done,” he said. “Now as to your question. What I cannot believe is that you have never danced before tonight.” He paused to study her. “You should dance regularly, May.”

  “I should,” she agreed. “Now tell me again about our case. You say Mrs. Baronne expects I will recognize the man at the top of the operation?”

  “That is her testimony.” Jeremiah shifted positions. “Whether any of it is true, who is to say? She and her husband may be trying to cast blame elsewhere to try and limit their responsibility.”

  Her gaze found his across the space between them. “Then it will be up to us to investigate, won’t it?”

  “This deputy work suits you.”

  “Yes,” she said as she leaned forward and rested her palms on her knees. “I had no idea I would like it so much.”

  “I had no idea I would like you so much, May.”

  She laughed. “We didn’t have the best start, did we?”

  “I think we’ve remedied that.”

  “Yes, we have,” she said, gazing at him with eyes that no longer looked old or tired. Rather, there was a light there that had been sorely missing before.

  If dancing did this, then he would see that May Conrad danced every day. Jeremiah reached over to press his palms atop her hands. She moved closer.

  He did the same and then lifted one hand to trace the line of her jaw. “Moonlight suits you, May.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, her lips near to his. “Would you just kiss me now?”

  Jeremiah leaned back and grinned. “From our first correspondence, I have admired how plainspoken you are.”

  May rested her chin in her hands and offered a disappointed look. “And until now I admired how you appeared to prefer to use few words. Why are you still talking?”

  He laughed as he leaned forward. Never had he met a woman like May Conrad. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be sunk.

  And that was without his sister’s matchmaking efforts.

  Je
remiah wrapped his arm around May’s shoulder. Slowly, gently their lips touched.

  The carriage door jerked open. “I am so sorry. I was just leaving when that awful Isabella Seward called me over to ask me if I had heard the latest about…” Stella froze, half in and half out of the carriage. “Oh.” She looked from Jeremiah to May and then back to Jeremiah. “Oh.”

  Chapter 7

  Get inside, Stella,” Jeremiah said as he leaned back against the seat and watched May do the same.

  His sister complied, her grin almost as broad as May’s as she settled across from Jeremiah. “You two were the talk of the party,” she told him.

  “Then it worked,” May said cheerily. “Your brother and I were using the ruse of being a couple to further our investigation.”

  “I see,” Stella said. “And what were you investigating at the Montgomery’s party?” she said as she turned her attention back to Jeremiah. “How long two people could remain on the dance floor without dancing with anyone else?”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “Yes, and now we know.”

  Stella gave him her I-can’t-believe-you-said-that look and then turned to May. “I don’t know if my brother told you, but you looked so beautiful tonight, May. I hope you don’t mind that I picked that dress out for you, but I just knew it was perfect for you.”

  “I felt like a princess,” she said.

  “You should always feel like a princess,” Stella told her. “And I know just how to fix that.”

  His sister chattered away, allowing May only the occasional response. Meanwhile Jeremiah thought about that kiss, or what that kiss might have been, had they not been interrupted. When he heard Stella promise their guest a shopping trip tomorrow, he immediately put a stop to that.

  “Her clothing has all burned except for the dress she was wearing when she arrived,” Stella reminded him. “And I understand as a deputy, May has an expense account for such essentials.”

  His sister’s eyes twinkled as she dared him to deny this. Jeremiah was, in fact, caught with his own words. Or was he?

  “I won’t allow it,” he told them both. “We’ll send someone out for clothes. Or have a seamstress come in.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Tonight was fine, and tomorrow will be fine, too,” Stella said.

  “Tonight was fine because obnoxious as Henry Montgomery is, he runs a tight ship and would allow no one of any danger near May. But a shopping trip? Not until this man we’re going after in Galveston is caught.”

  “If he’s in Galveston, then how can he hurt her here?”

  “We are taking the word of an admitted criminal. I won’t be convinced of her safety until the case is concluded.”

  “Oh Jeremiah,” Stella said. “Relax. It’ll be fun.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  Those were his final words, and yet somehow the next morning Jeremiah found himself supervising the purchase of a new wardrobe for his deputy detective. Three hours into what appeared to be an endless day of shopping, he declared an end to it all.

  “Whatever has not been purchased, ordered, or promised is not needed,” he said as he ushered the women into the carriage. “At this rate your trunks will sink the ship.”

  “Don’t joke about that, Jeremiah,” Stella said. “Your deputy has never been on a sailing ship. That’s why I thought I would come along instead of joining John in New York.”

  For once, Jeremiah was glad for his sister’s interference. Having her around in Galveston would be helpful.

  “Another first?” he asked May, lightening his tone as he saw her expression. “There’s nothing to it. Just walk aboard here, settle into your cabin, and wake up at your destination.”

  Her weak smile told him that if she was indeed afraid, she would never admit it. Miss Conrad kept up that bravado all the way to their final destination of Galveston, Texas. Even then, she emerged from the cabin where she’d been hiding since they reached open water looking fresh as if she’d actually enjoyed the trip.

  Had his nosy sister not insisted on telling him of Miss Conrad’s seasickness, he never would have guessed as she straightened her back and walked down the gangplank of the Vanderbilt steamship Daniel Webster to the docks and the buggy waiting nearby. Maybe she would make a good Pinkerton detective after all.

  Once the buggy was in motion, his deputy’s facade disappeared. “Fresh air at last,” she said as she inhaled deeply of the salt-scented air. “This is wonderful.”

  “You’ve never been to a beach town either?” Stella asked. “Amazing.”

  “Not really,” she said. “Although I have a distant memory of this very familiar scent. Perhaps it only came from my father’s descriptions.”

  The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Bingham home. While the driver saw to their trunks, Jeremiah helped the ladies down. “The Pinkerton Agency certainly spares no expense in its safe houses,” she said.

  Stella exchanged a glance with him behind May’s back but remained silent. Once inside, he left May in Stella’s capable hands and went off to read the stack of mail he’d been handed upon arrival.

  Topmost was a letter from Mr. Pinkerton letting him know that local law enforcement had been enlisted to watch a man that was under suspicion as being a partner in the mail fraud crimes. He set that letter aside and retrieved a note that appeared to have been hand delivered.

  The author of the message proved to be the man Mr. Pinkerton had recommended in his letter. This man’s note indicated Sebastian Thomas had booked passage on a ship leaving for New Orleans tomorrow.

  Though he knew he should wait until the ladies settled in, the letter indicated that time was of the essence. He sent a maid up to fetch Miss Conrad.

  “I apologize for the urgency,” he said when she returned to the parlor. “But we’ve got some detective work to do. Unless you prefer I go alone.”

  “You’re joking, right?” She followed him out to the buggy. “What is the plan?”

  He settled her onto the seat and climbed inside. “I’ve got information that the man the Baronnes identified as the ringleader has booked passage on a ship for New Orleans tomorrow.”

  “Do we know where he can be found?”

  “The Ayres & Perry Wholesale Grocery on Strand.”

  Never one to ignore the obvious, May reached over to touch Jeremiah’s hand. “About that kiss in the carriage after the Montgomery party.”

  He swiveled to face her. “That was the beginning of a kiss,” he said, his expression unreadable. “I can do much better if given the opportunity.”

  “Does that happen often with your partners?” Soon as she said the words, May wanted to reel them back in. Certainly this was none of her business.

  “I assure you it has not.” He leaned toward her.

  “Jeremiah,” she said, putting space between them. “Do you think this sort of thing is advisable considering we’re in the process of following up on an important lead?”

  He sighed. “All right, Deputy Detective Conrad. You’re right.” He reached for the reins. “Let’s go catch this man.”

  They rode in silence until May decided to give voice to a concern she’d had since before they left New Orleans. “This Sebastian Thomas, what has he done exactly?”

  “The Baronnes claim Thomas is the mastermind behind marriage fraud schemes in several states. People like Fleurette Baronne act as contacts for men who pay heavy prices for brides they will never see.” He paused and May guessed Jeremiah was trying to figure out how to soften his words.

  “I’ll save you the effort of making things sound nicer than they are,” she said. “The contacts find gullible women like me to pose as potential brides.”

  Jeremiah reached over to touch her hand. “You had no way of knowing you were being used, May. Given the timing of it all, I think the Baronnes realized you were living alone and used that to their advantage by setting fire to your home and causing you to depend on their kindness for a place to live.”

  She sighed. “Ye
s, that is all true, but why did they burn down their own home? That just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Think about it,” he said. “What if someone tipped the Baronnes off that the Pinkerton Detective Agency was investigating them for mail fraud? The only way to get rid of the evidence and the one person who could link them to that fraud was to burn down the house with you inside.”

  May shivered despite the heat of the day. “I suppose I should have known that Mrs. Baronne was not as she claimed. I just had no experience with things like that, and I felt so helpless after I lost everything.” She slid Jeremiah a sideways glance. “I have you to thank for giving me a purpose again. If you hadn’t deputized me and given me a job with the agency, I might never have known that I had any value to give.”

  Jeremiah grimaced. “About that. I should be totally honest and tell you—”

  “Stop!” May swiveled around to watch an elderly fellow disappear inside a storefront beneath a sign that proclaimed the establishment as B. SHERIDAN, WATCHMAKER.

  Jeremiah pulled the buggy over to the curb and jumped out to help May down. “I saw someone….” She shook her head, unable to credit her own eyes. “He went into the watchmaker’s shop.”

  “Who did you see, May?” he demanded.

  “I’d rather not say until I’m sure.”

  She hurried inside the watchmaker’s store, a narrow but long room with brick walls covered in shelves that contained watches of all sorts and advertisements for watch fobs and other items, but found it empty of customers. A dark-haired man came out from behind a curtain in the back and regarded her with a smile.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “We’re looking for a customer who might have just come in,” Jeremiah told the watchmaker.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “But you’re the first ones who’ve come in since I opened this morning.”

  May shook her head. “You mean there was no man about this tall with sandy-colored hair?” She lifted her hand to a spot above her head to indicate the man’s height.